Classic Cars At Gougane Barra.

 We stopped off at Gougane Barra last Sunday on the way back from County Kerry.  It's a beautiful lakeside setting and the home of the patron saint of Cork Saint Finbarr.  

There is a chapel and oratory there and couples often get married or just have their wedding photos taken there.  It's also got an hotel, pub, gift shop and forest and lakeside walks.

We stopped off to stretch our legs and give the dog a walk and a drink and she decided to cool down by jumping in a stream.

It was a red hot day and we bought ice lollies and noticed there were classic cars parked there after an annual memorial run.  Here's some pictures:

A taste of Anerica or even America.  Complete with a double front seat,  I  thought of the Fonz and Happy Days.

A reminder of Blighty.  This Rolls Royce is bespoke fitted with leather seats and walnut dash.  I think they only go nine miles to the gallon?  I suppose if you can afford one you can afford to pay for the motion lotion or petrol even?

Classic cars parked next to the lake and you can see the beautiful church  in the background.  It was a nice stopover enjoyed by  all.

A Ride Out To Fenit of "Feenit" even!

 I am often corrected when I pronounce Irish words.  For example Rory Gallagher one of my Blues Rock guitar heroes surname Gallagher is pronounced without the second "G" over here. I've always pronounced the second "G".   On Monday morning we discussed where we had been for the weekend with my work colleagues.  I said: "we went to Fenit in County Kerry and I was told "You mean Feenit".

 Spelt Fenit!

Any road or I digress:

Fenit is rather beautiful and is on the opposite side of Tralee Bay and Camp  where I recently posted  a blog about on here.  It was  a pleasant few hours walking about along the beach and the dog had a swim. 

Cricket In County Kerry.

What could be more quintessentially Irish than seeing a game of Cricket in county Kerry?  

Is there a more stunning backdrop/vista of Tralee Bay in the background? 

We drove from Tralee to Fenit on Saturday afternoon and passed through the village of Spa. We couldn't believe our eyes.  A game of Cricket was being played at Kerry Cricket club.

We talked to one of the Cricketers.  He said they play mainly 20 -20.  We told him about the new 100 format where each team gets 100 bowls at each other.  We were intrigued that Cricket was being played in Ireland.  He said there are Cricket grounds in all the Cities and they are very keen on it in the North.

It was a magical sight and that great Manchester band 10CC song started playing on my mental jukebox:

What's So Great About Great?

One thing I really like about working with people is the conversations we have.  Living in the countryside I can go days without speaking to anyone other than immediate family.  I think that's why I write and  compose blogs and comment on my favourite blogs that I follow.

I was talking to someone when I was working the other day.  He remarked that he couldn't understand why when people refer to the famine in Ireland it's called the Great Famine.  He said there was nothing great about it.  I agreed and said that the first world war is often called the great war.

I thought this might be a 'great" topic for a blog post.  So I looked up other examples of when great is used:

Great Wall of China.

Great Lakes.

Great Dane.

Catherine the Great.

Great Bear.

Arthur Ashe was a tennis great.

I am sure you have examples of the word great?

Do you remember Bullseye?  "How you doing, smashing, great!" 

"I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself".

 I've been working all week and going on my twice daily free cruise across the bay to the island and back.  Will catch up with  my favourite blogs soon.

A group/duo I would have loved to see in the early noughties would have been The White Stripes.  They consisted of Jack White on Guitar and vocals and Meg White.  They are from Detroit in Michigan.

I once watched then on Later with Jools on BBC 2 and Jools said they were a brother and sister duo.  When in fact they were actually married at the time.

Probably their signature tune is Seven Nations Army.  How many times have I heard number two son playing that tune on his electric guitar?

I'm not going to play that though.  I'm going to play a cover song by Mary Catherine Bernadette O'Brien or Dusty Springfield to be precise.  She was  born in West Hampstead of Irish parents.  Her mother was born in Tralee in County Kerry.  Dusty's ashes were sprinkled over the cliffs of Moher in County Clare.

I really like both versions of this song:

Beetroots And Yellow Wellies.

 

"Oh they called them yellow wellies!"

That's me this very morning harvesting a very nice beetroot specimen in 'Portugal' my plastic polytunnel pal.

I sowed them and planted them in a polystyrene welder packing case.  They've had no chemicals just chicken pellets and some of my cow poo and nettles garden tea.  

Like the great comedian Frank Carson would say: " It's a cracker!"

Like the majority of our vegetables, beetroot originate in the middle east and are said to be a seaside plant.    They like a sprinkle of salt when they are growing and it also helps keeps the slugs and snails away.

Beetroot is very popular in Russia and central and Eastern Europe.  Beetroot is very good for cleansing the blood too.

The beetroot is now boiling away in a big pan with it's leaves still intact.  Brotherhood of Man recorded the following b side to the Eurovision song contest, honest!

"Beetroots for tea.  Save your beetroots for me...  "

Rabbits Grazing In A Cemetery.

We noticed four rabbits happily grazing in a new part of a cemetery the other day:

The cemetery grounds staff keep the grass mown and the rabbits obviously enjoy the young and tender short grass.

Animals are so resourceful and don't mind using a cemetery for a dining place.

It's good to see rabbits grazing instead of us sighing at beautiful animals that have become casualties of roadkill.  I saw a beautiful badger dead in the middle of a main road the other day.  All it had done was to go for a stroll and a midnight feast.  There's no cemetery for those poor creatures.