An Open Letter to the People of Booterstown and Ireland

Nearly two years to this day, the Rames Family was certainly sitting in large van with considerable baggage heading for Sea-Tac International Airport in Seattle, WA, USA.  We were actually heading toward something with much less certainty:  relocation to Dublin.  At that point, two weeks before school was to start, we didn’t know where the kids were going to go to school, where we were going to live, or what was really in store for us.  There were tears in that van from young and old.  We were leaving a community that we loved and felt very comfortable in.  A community with treasured friends.   A wise man in the van said, “It’s a good thing that you feel this way because it means that you have built good friends and when you leave something like that, it should make you feel sad.  I can only hope that when we leave Dublin, there will be these same tears.”  - Joe said this.

We’re a few days from leaving Booterstown and many tears have already been shed.  It’s really difficult to write a letter of thanks to a community, because “thank you” is something best delivered to a set of eyes.  Something that should be accompanied with a hug or a handshake.  We’ve already parted with many hugs and handshakes and there will be more tears to come, but many will have been missed.  Please take this letter along with a virtual hug and handshake.

I could probably fill many screens with stories of how the people and places of Ireland have seeped into the fabric of the Rames Family and I could sit here and mention each one.  I would likely miss my flight to the States.  How you captured us, is very simple:  You accepted us into your community.

I know that some may say that we found you by living in the community.  But renting a house does not mean acceptance.  Some may say that it was really our efforts and embracing of the community that made it possible.  Anyone that has embraced another and received nothing in return can attest to the fact that it takes two to make it happen.  You took us into your homes, schools, churches, clubs, and pubs.  You accepted us and taught us lessons that will stay with us forever.

I thought I’d end this letter with something Grace wrote and drew.  I will replace names with “Booterstown” as it so perfectly reflects how our family feels.  The rest will stay the same as I would not want to correct an imperfection.  There are certainly things about Ireland that are not perfect, but we have come to accept it as our home and know that we are not done with it. 

Dear Booterstown,

I will miss you soo much. Leaving Ireland is so hard and complacated.  You really lit my life up. At first I was didn’t really notice anything and I was like a little stone on the ground being trampled, but when I noticed I could stand up for myself I would be able to become freinds with everyone, my life changed completeley.  My life never be the same without you.  But when I left America, I thought my life would be horrible a tough, but now that I made freinds with you and everyone else, it was like I was born again and started a new life.

Love from the Rames Family

Xoxoxoxoxoxo

P.S. Teers

As you have accepted us into your lives and community, please know you are welcome into ours.  Until we meet again….

When Cemeteries Speak To You

This blog has mainly been about family trips and experiences while we spent our limited number of days in Ireland.  Those days are coming to an end as we plan our repatriation in August.  In my last blog about Rod and my visit to Normandy I mentioned that we visited quite a few cemeteries and I promised to expand on what we saw.  My comments here might get a bit raw as it was, is, and I hope always will be a very emotional experience.  My comments might sound very political, but I don't think these thoughts are owned by any political party.  My comments might sound war-like and hawkish, but when you spend a few days in Normandy and put it in context with what happened in our country from 1939 to 1941 and the years leading up to D-Day and the cleaning up of tyranny in Europe and Asia, you realize the cost of inaction.  My comments may sound like they glorify war, but glory was not something I saw in those cemeteries.

The cemeteries of Normandy have not been there since 1944.  The simple fact is that Normandy itself was one giant cemetery.  The number and speed that casualties mounted required that soldiers be buried quickly.  There were many battlefield cemeteries, but there were also many soldiers that were found and buried by locals and many that were just not found in a state they could be identified.  The reality is that troops were buried pretty close to where they died.  After the war, the task began to collect and consolidate from the many battlefield cemeteries and plan for the future.  Not all soldiers that died in Europe remained there.  The next of kin of every soldier had a choice.  Leave their soldier in Europe where his/her grave would be taken care of forever, or bring them home.  In the end the ABMC (American Battle Monuments Commission - overseers of military cemeteries overseas) has records of 176,399 casualties out of the 405,399 total (43%) in World War II.  And the ABMC does an incredible job.  I would love to tell you to donate money to this incredible organization, but you already do.  It is an agency of the executive branch of the US government.

We visited 5 military cemeteries, only two of which were US.  We tend to get the US view of things in America, but there were 5 beaches hit on D-Day.  Two were hit by Americans.  They were the worst in terms of casualties, but none were easy.  Utah and Omaha beach were US.  Gold and Sword were British.  Juno was Canadian.  There were other countries involved.  Australia, Belgium, France, Czechoslovakia, Greece, New Zealand, the Netherlands, Norway, and Poland also participated.  And they all didn't land on the beach.  About 17,000 parachuted in or arrive on 1 of nearly 500 gliders that essentially crash landed where they could.

Ranville
We started an Ranville.  Not because of a plan, but just because we were close.  Ranville (the town) is noted to be the first town liberated on D-Day.  This is a Commonwealth cemetery meaning it was made up of soldiers of the United Kingdom.  It was the smallest we visited with 2,235 Commonwealth soldiers.  It was unique in that it also had a small section of German casualties numbering 330.  The graves were also very close together with flowers and plants in a bed along the graves. 

Le Cambe 

Le Cambe is a German cemetery.  It was pretty large in size, but it had the distinction of being the home to the most casualties with 21,222.  The German headstones are flatter, but they also had some Latin crosses in the mix and the stone looked like a lava stone.  Dark and rough.  What made the numbers possible in this space is that most of the headstones contained two names, so each soldier had a wing man.

 

Brittany American

We didn't plan to stop here, but on our last day on the way toward the airport, we saw the signs and stopped.  This cemetery was on the edge of Normandy where the troops basically blasted out and began their moves across the plains of Brittany toward Paris.  There are 4,410 US soldiers laid to rest here.  It had a very majestic chapel and the plots were incredibly beautiful.  They have very linear as well as rounded aspects. 

Mont-de-Huisnes
Another unplanned visit on our final day and quite a surprise.  This was a very compact place as it was an ossuary.  For your edification, this is a storage place for bones.  It can be a box or a building, and in this case it was a very large complex. Some might call it a mausoleum.  It was a large circle with two levels and little alcoves around the entire circumference.  In each alcove, the bones of 180 soldiers rested.  This totaled up to 11,956 casualties in WWII.  As with all of these places, it was immaculately maintained, but it was not my favorite.  It seemed out of style, which is an odd thing to say, but as well maintained as it was, it seemed old.  Kind of like when you a perfectly nice building, but it's style is noticeably different when looked at in context with others in the area.  It was pretty new with it being opened in 1963, so I'm sure it was cool then, but the coolness hasn't lasted in my opinion.

Normandy American Cemetery and Memorial

This place just grabs a hold of every emotion you have and pulls it further than you think it can stretch.    There are 9,383 men and 4 women buried here.  It is the largest WWII cemetery in Europe. It also has 1 WWI casualty, Quentin Roosevelt I.  His brother, Theodore Roosevelt, Jr. received the Medal of Honor as a General when he landed on the first wave on Utah beach.  He was the only General and the oldest man at 56 to go in the first wave.  Theodore's son, Quentin II, was a Captain and landed on Omaha beach in the first wave.  General Roosevelt died in Normandy, but not from battle wounds.  He had a heart attack in his sleep.  When they built this cemetery, they collected the two brothers and placed them side by side.  Speaking of brothers, there are 33 sets of brothers side by side in this cemetery.  The inspirations for Saving Private Ryan are here, but the story is just a story.  Also buried here are the Bedford Boys.  This small town in Virginia sent 35 volunteers to battle on D-Day and 19 died there or in the days that followed.  This was a town of only 3200 people.
This cemetery looks over Omaha beach.  You can hear the constant sounds of the waves and the wind was unceasing.  As beautiful as they come, but there is much more here that what the eyes can see.  You can feel this place.

One of the Band of Brothers.  If you come to visit someone

and tell them, they take sand from Omaha beach and fill in the

letters so you can see them clearly.  The rain washes it out.

Joe's Thoughts

Dark and Light

All these cemeteries pull at my emotions and they effect me differently.  It may sound strange, but the Allied cemeteries give me a feeling of hope.  The German cemeteries gave me feeling of loss.  All cemeteries are about loss, but as I thought about these places, the sense of dark and light came out.  We see light as hope and optimism and dark and scary and evil.  Metaphors, yes, but these are core to the human psyche.  I first thought that it was the color schemes of the cemeteries, but realized that it wasn't about that.  It was really about seeing the loss that occurred on both sides and what drove those losses.  Our losses were driven by a fear of losing our freedom and liberty.  Fear of losing our friends.  Their losses were driven by the idea of superiority and that their way was better and they were better or other were unworthy or inferior. They were driven by anger at how WWI ended and the pain they endured between those two wars.  They were driven by need to take over and accumulate and create a legacy of power that would compensate for their previous losses.  I feel hope in the American cemeteries because when you see people act in ways that are completely contrary to their well-being, but do it anyway, and do it for people and countries that would never really impact them if they didn't act, it gives me hope in the human spirit.  They did what was right.  The darkness I feel is because the losses on the other side were not incurred because of righteousness, they were incurred because of anger and bigotry and greed for power.  When I see soldiers led down that path to death, it also invokes anger.  Anger that a small group of people can lead people down that path to utter destruction and death.  The sheer arrogance that they can rule others without their consent and think that they will somehow come to a different end that those that have tried this before them is something that makes their death seem like a waste.  Any soldier that dies in a war is a terrible loss, but when they on the wrong side of righteousness, it saddens me more.

Inaction kills

When we went to Pointe du Hoc, we saw war.  We saw craters 10 feet deep.  We saw the battlefield.  What really impacted me and made me question our country is why did we wait so long?  France surrendered in 1940.  The amount of concrete poured by the Germans along the coast of France was enormous.  The bunkers were reinforced concrete six foot thick and they were everywhere.  We let the Germans build up without fear or concern for years before we finally decided that we couldn't stay out of it.  Then it actually took the Japanese to wake us up.  No one could ever calculate how many lives that inaction cost, but you could see them buried in Normandy.  So the next time someone asks me whether I think we should send our military somewhere to fight, the criteria are pretty simple.  Is it the right thing to do?  Does doing it promote and protect the people where we are going.  Not the government, the people.  Does it promote our values of freedom and liberty?  Does inaction just delay the inevitable?  If it is just a delay, then we act now.  I know the people of 1939 did not have a crystal ball and couldn't see how things were going to turn out.  But there were no voices saying that what the Germans were doing was right and just.  The voices were just afraid to stand up for righteousness.  They were afraid of war and the cost in $'s and lives.  This is my biggest embarrassment as an American:  We stood by and watched freedom and liberty trampled on across the globe and because we had a couple of big oceans on either side of us, we didn't have the guts to speak up and act until it slapped us in the face.

Seeds of Freedom

We had a great tour guide at the Normandy American Cemetery and Memorial.  He was actually Canadian, but that's another story.  On our tour was an active duty Colonel in the US Army, not in uniform.  The true impact of this guide was seen as his stories brought tears to this Colonel's eyes.  What impacts people are stories about people.  This guide had a folder full of stories.  He didn't tell them all, but he did listen to the questions of the people on the tour and found out who we were so he could head to his folder of stories to make the tour fantastic. He asked us why we came and I told him it was because Rod wanted to visit Normandy versus all the other places in Europe - true story.  After the tour was up, he left us with a personal story and hopefully a 13-year old boy with a memory that will grown in him.  He talked about an interview that his grandfather gave.  His grandfather was a Canadian from Juno beach.  When asked what the people of today should do to honor those that served in WWII, he had a simple answer.  His generation planted the seeds of freedom and liberty back in the ground in Normandy.  And it is up to the following generation to tend to those seeds and nurture them.  You can do honor to the seeds planted in the cemeteries of Normandy by always standing up for liberty and justice, regardless of how unpopular, uncomfortable or dangerous it might be.  At this point, he turned to Rod and said, "Thank you for coming here.  Not many young Americans come here.  It says something about you that it was your idea to come."  Turns out the Colonel on the tour is the Director of Admissions at West Point and I have her name.

Reflections on a D-Day experience

As we were sitting on our bed in Redmond talking to the kids about moving to Ireland for a couple of years, the kids were profoundly sad.  They had never lived anywhere else outside the eastside of Seattle and the idea of Ireland and a foreign country did not excite them.  We talked about how cool this experience could be and how we would be able to see/do so many things that would be much more difficult living in Redmond.  That pep talk didn't really help.  But we did talk to them about places that they would want to see.  Grace wanted to meet the Queen.  Don't think we'll swing that, but we're working on a long weekend to London.  J.J. wanted to go to Liverpool to the home of the Beatles.  Check.  Rod wanted to go to Normandy.  Check, Check.

We had a bank holiday weekend a couple of weeks back and we had initially planned to use that time to go to Normandy, but with the June 6th anniversary a week later, we felt it would be better to delay a week and participate in the events surrounding the anniversary.  It was a great decision.

Good old Ryanair flies to Dinard, France, which is about 1-2 hour drive from Normandy.  So we got on their incredibly terrible website and booked our tickets.  A little known fact for the uninitiated about Ryanair.  You can only book tickets over the web and then you can only book single legs of a flight.  So Ryanair doesn't fly from Dublin to Dinard.  The only way to get to Dinard is to go through London-Stansted or East Midlands, UK.  So I had the pleasure of booking my Dublin to London flights and then my London to Dinard flights separately.  OK, it was worth the cheap flights, but I still have the rights to complain, don't I??  Also, as a non-EU passport holder, I am required to get a Visa check/Passport check on the front counter before each flight.  So even though my flight in London was a few gates away from my flight to France, I had to leave the area and go back out to have this check done and then make my way back through security yet again.  But it was worth the cheap flights (I keep telling myself.)  Flying into Dinard was funny.  The airport is so small, there's only one place to park a plane.  There are small private planes parked in the grass a few meters from where you get on.  There is no tractor to push the planes, so the plane just pulls in and turns so it is pointing out for the next departure.  Everyone stands outside to get though border security.  But it was worth the cheap flights.  However, yet again, the flights all arrived on time, as we were reminded by the obnoxious trumpet blast that accompanied each touchdown of the wheels.

We rented a car and Dad went cheap.  It turned out to be a Fiat Panda, which is undoubtedly the smallest car I've ever driven since I was probably 4 and pedaling the vehicle.  But it was worth the cheap price.  Did everything we asked ask long as we didn't ask it to be comfortable or fast or quiet.  Since we got on a God-awful early flight (because it was cheap), we ended up in Normandy pretty early on the 6th.  So we checked in and headed to our first destination.

Sainte-Mère-Église This town was liberated pretty early in the D-Day campaign and was most known for the disastrous parachute drop right into the heart of the town that resulted in heavy casualties for the 505th PIR (Parachute Infantry Regiment).  The most famous incident was when one of the paratroopers was caught on the church steeple in the middle of town.  It was then that I was touched the first time by the incredible love and gratefulness for the veterans.  The town had a ceremony that day in the square and although in French, you could sense the deep feelings these people have.  There were a handful of veterans there.  Remember, the ones that LIED to get into the Army are now 85 years old, so their numbers are dwindling.  They were in wheelchairs and walkers and many had canes and everyone of them had a unending supply of people willing to help them get up and get around safely.  We went into the church for a ceremony where a Colonel from the 101st Airborne spoke along with ministers from France and the US.  They read the names of many that died in that area on D-Day.  After, in the square, there were a couple of WWII tanks driving off.  We saw someone signal to the tank driver to stop and they had some words, while the crowds around admired their vintage vehicles and sucked in their incredible exhaust.  It turns out that one of the veterans had expressed an interest in a ride and that message was transferred to the tanker.  So what then commenced was very careful and raising of these 80+ year olds up on the tank.  And then IN the tanks.  For those familiar with tanks, they are not built for the aged, but the tanks were swarming with hands to help ensure they made it in safely.  They then drove these gentlemen out of the square in style.  It was VERY cool.

After this, we made a quick trip out to Utah Beach, but it was getting late, so we had to vow to return later.  On the way back in the evening, we were driving through a small town called Saint Marie du Mont and ran into a WWII scene.  The entire town square was filled with tents and vehicles and people in period dress, both uniforms and not.  The people of Normandy move back to 1944 at this time and it seemed like everyone.  There were kids and teenagers and mothers and grandfathers.  I cannot even fathom how many vehicles we saw during the week.  As we got out and walked around, we saw a C47 flying overhead and then out popped a stick of paratroopers.  It was VERY cool.

We stayed in Caen, which is really on the eastern edge of the Normandy beaches, so on Day 2, it was Allies day.  We went to Juno Beach (Canadians) and Sword Beach (British), which were closest.  We got a tour of Juno Beach and heard the stories of their D-Day (which was much less deadly than the US experience at Omaha Beach).  The guides for their museum are  young Canadian students that come for the summer.  I thought that would be the coolest internship.  We got to go in the German bunkers that were built up for 4 years prior to D-Day and hear the stories of the Canadians that day.  At each of these beaches is at least one museum and the Canadian one was really good.  We then stopped at another fortification called Le Grande Bunker.  I don't need to translate.  This was a large command and control centre built by the Germans. Think GIANT concrete bunker with 5 levels.

Leaving the beaches, we headed inland to a place called Pegasus Bridge.  This is the site of a British battle where they flew gliders in with troops to capture this bridge along with another and destroy a few others as part of the battle.  We enjoyed a French MRE lunch that included rabbit pate.  Only in France.  We then paid our first visit to a cemetery in Ranville.  This one was unique in that it was mixed with a British section and a German section.  I'll get to cemeteries in my next blog entry.


On Day 3, it was US beach day.  Utah and Omaha.  Omaha Beach was especially bad and it was easy to see why.  The attack came at low tide so the obstacles in the water could be seen.  However, this made the beach about 200-300 meters long from where the troops left the landing craft.  This was a rather somber day as we toured and read about this place.  We went back to Sainte-Mere-Eglise to go the Airborne museum.  We went to our 2nd cemetery (Coleville) overlooking Omaha Beach, but we got there just before closing.  Will be heading back there in the next blog.  The day ended in Isigny-sur-Mer for a vintage vehicle parade.  Again, there were probably 75-100 vehicles.  From tow trucks to jeeps to fuel trucks to ambulances to tanks.  The tanks are always the favourite.  We left and stopped by our 3rd Cemetery at La Cambe, which is one of the German cemeteries.

Day 4 brought us back to Coleville to the cemetery overlooking Omaha Beach.  We spent nearly 1/2 the day here and I'll tell you about that later.  After this, we went back to Sainte-Mere-Eglise where they were going to have a large air drop.  This turned out to be 150-200 paratroops in 8 sticks out of 6 planes.  There were hundreds of cars and people hanging out in pastures and waiting for the planes.  It was very windy, so there were some delays, but the show went on.  On to Pointe du Hoc, which is another famous battle sight.  The unique thing about this one is that it has been left as is.  There are dozens of HUGE bomb craters and blown up bunkers and all open to run around.  Rod had a great time climbing in and out of everything.

Day 5 was the return day.  We didn't plan on doing any military sights, but were going to head to Le Mont St. Michel which is a 14th century abbey on a rock in the ocean that is surrounded at high tide.  This was a cool visit, but there happened to be a strike on (imagine that in France??!!?!).  There were some protests by the tour guides to price hikes for tourist parking by the multi-national contractor that runs the concessions and parking.  So although the parking was pricey, the tours on the island were free as there were no guides.  In and out and got a few pictures.  We then visited two more cemeteries on the way to the airport.  More on these later.

Never will forget this experience and I think Rod would say the same.  I think every person that values their liberties should pay a visit to Normandy as those events changed the path of liberty for nearly all of us.


 Here are some various pictures of the just a fraction of the vehicles we saw and photographed.

Ok. Dr. Who Experience in Cardiff

There will be a few things we take away from Ireland when it comes to TV.  But likely tops in this category will be Dr. Who.

For those that don't know, Dr. Who is a BBC series that has been running since the sixties and is about a time lord that travels around the galaxies saving everyone and everything.  I could try to categorize it but wouldn't likely do it justice.  Just imagine every sci-fi show you've ever seen combine with every time travel show you've ever seen.  Now run the series for 50 years.

Well in Cardiff, they have a venue where Dr. Who  fans flock to.  And our kids are fans. (their parents are fond of it too).  So we planned a day in Cardiff.  Ok, it is kind of like a star trek museum, but they also have a 30 minute piece where you are inside a Dr Who scene which was very neat.  Pack in 50 years of props,  costumes, and a gift shop, and you come out a couple of hours later fully entertained with some t-shirts and a Dalek Christmas ornament.

We had an impromptu picnic on the promenade and made or way back to Cardiff castle by water bus for some more traditional tourism where we saw another example of how extreme wealth/power and a desire to build something kept designers and architects busy since the days of Stonehenge?

All of this occurred with sunshine and highs in the no coats or no jumpers range.  Beautiful.

How do you top off a day like this?  How about a little Iron Man 3?  Exhausted, but had a great day with no head butting incidents.

Guess where we are?

Stonehenge

Only had one venue on the agenda for Sunday: Stonehenge
It was another of those places you hear and see about that draws you.  A bunch of  rocks in the middle of a field.  Big rocks, granted.  Ok, it's 5000 years old...
It was simply a beautiful day. I hope not to spoil our luck, but this is getting close to or first multi-day trip on these islands (UK and Ireland) where we haven't been rained on.
We had a couple hours to get there and as the GPS counted down to 2 minutes and we were still not seeing the signs of one of the worlds most well known tourist locations, we had a fleeting doubt.  But then there was a bus and then another and then a brown sign and after rounding a corner, there it was.  Literally right there!  I don't know that I've ever seen a sight like that so close to the road.  I could have spit and hit the heel stone if I were driving a left hand drive car and driving on the wrong side of the road (which Martha will quickly tell isn't the most unlikely thing to witness with my driving).  The throngs of people surrounding the stone would have been  put out, I imagine.  It was busy. 
It seems there was some type of half marathon with dogs happening across the road where everyone parks so there was a lot going on.  Although there was room to park say a million more cars in the field where we were directed.  It is literally in the middle of giant open sheep fields. I know this as the first thing that happened was the attempt to gross out another sibling my kicking the now hardened manure at one another and see how high they could strike.
We got our tickets and headsets and joined the masses after only a few minutes waiting.  Another site that got Martha misty as she finally got to visit after studying it in college.  Alas, the polish wore off after an accidental head-butting left one child heading for the car a bit early.  The survivors carried on enduring the Rodney King speech, yet again.
We headed toward Cardiff in the afternoon after a brief scare with the vehicle.  As I rounded a traffic circle I felt the car splutter like it was running out of gas. Which amazingly enough, it was.  I had tossed my sunglass case on the panel in front of the gas gauge as we drove obliviously across the English countryside with the little red light blazing.  Fortunately a quick three point turn and a downhill drive into the village we just passed had us coasting into a petrol station.  Where a $117 later we were on our way.  Yes fuel is just a expensive in the UK coming in at $7.90/gallon according to our impromptu math and conversion lesson.
Hunger struck as we passed a pub called The Fox and Hounds, so another 360 turn at the next roundabout had us dining.  It was sunny so we ate out front on the picnic tables.  They took the hounds part seriously as we watched two Great Danes head through the front door.
The remaining drive was uneventful outside the periodic scream from JJ as an exotic car passed in the other direction.  This culminated in a Lamborghini passing in the same direction we were heading.  Despite my desire to heed the wishes of JJ and catch him so we could see it better, sense prevailed since the Mitsubishi Grandis starts vibrating uncomfortably at around 130km and our target was traveling a bit faster than that.  No, A LOT faster that!
Into Cardiff where we walked around for awhile.  After Dr. Who, we'll visit the town a bit more.
Enjoy the pics.

Liverpool

Arrived in Liverpool at 530am.  Not much to do...  Went to the Liverpool cathedral at about 630 and walked around for awhile, then went on our own star tour finding the Beatles childhood homes.  Ringo definitely had the worst digs...at least how they looked in 2013.  We bided our time until the Beatles story museum opened at 930.  Nice museum really enjoyed.  JJ got to play a bit of guitar in one of the discovery rooms. Up the street we completed the rock n roll tour with a run thru the Elvis museum.  Since the Beatles were so influenced by the King there was a kind of Elvis museum with a heavy Beatles influence.  Graceland in Liverpool.

We planned going on the magical mystery tour bus, but the time got away from us.  So we went to something rod has been itching to do and see...a nuclear bunker tour.  This one was out in the country and was to be the place where the local government would go.  Not sure how they would have gotten out there in time?  Lots of interesting stuff and filled the remaining part of the day. 

Left the "Secret Bunker" and headed for our overnight in Birmingham.  Going to hang with the druids tomorrow.

Bank Holiday Weekend

Taking on long weekend and visiting the big island...We're headed for some long desired locations.  Starting with Liverpool.

Taking the overnight ferry with the car to visit the home of the Beatles.  This is JJ's desired destination.

Supposed to get into Liverpool early in the morning.

Jamison's Confirmation

The largess of our sacrament haul during our Ireland stay continues.  Jamison was the latest to add one with his Confirmation on Friday.  Confirmations are a 6th class activity and are happening in all the schools in the area.  There were 52 kids from the boys and girl's schools where Grace and J.J. attend.  Felt a little bit like Christmas and that started with the jammed car park.  There was excitement in the kids and a bit of apprehension.  The kids wear white albs and they spend quite a bit of time in preparation for this in school, incorporating writing and art projects into the effort.  The younger classes also participate by  providing music.

J.J.'s sponsor was Declan, who is is a guitar-mate at church.  His confirmation name was Colmcille (pronounced:  col'umn-kill.  St. Colmcille or St. Columba or was a 6th century cleric from Ireland and one that resonated with J.J.. The ceremony was very well done and all the kids had a part.  J.J. brought up the gifts.  Rod and Grace were more than willing to take the day off of school to attend.

We were expecting a marathon event, but Fr. Cormac sped things along and we were very early for our lunch at Gleeson's.  Gleeson's is the local pub about 1/2 a sand wedge away from the church.  J.J. had a bowling event with the class late that afternoon and so we went back to rest up for that.

The boys in blue shirts.  All with one of Joe's ties on.

The girls chose pink

The kids get to choose their dinner.  It's either eat out or pick your menu.  J.J. invariably chooses the homemade route for events like this and it was no different for this one.  Since our Germany trip, J.J. has been a vegetarian (still don't know what prompted the change).  This probably made the decision easier.

Menu
Eggplant Parmesan
Spinach Salad
Watermelon
Pasta with sauce
Chicken breast (just in case the non-vegetarians had to have some meat)
Cake with ice cream

All were delightful.  Declan came over at 7.  The party ended up out in the back garden with the boys trading guitars and playing around the fire, until it got a bit chilly and the party moved back into the house.  There, the electric guitar and amp were broken out and the music continued.  The party broke up about midnight and all were exhausted.  A delightful night.

Martha's creation with Grace and Joe's labor included

Tonight, we head to Aine and Philip's for a party for their son Ros (J.J.'s classmate and friend).  Our instructions were to think about walking so we both "could enjoy a few jars."  I'm sure you all understand the meaning of that!!

Clear and cool, but you must head outside when it isn't raining.

The "Talk" with Jamison

Like most of the schools we've been in, there comes a time when a form comes home and we are requested to approve of the school's efforts to give "the talk" to the kids.  Jamison's turn was in order. They have this talk in 6th Class in Ireland.

We've always been pretty upfront with them when they had questions, so we weren't too concerned about signing away and letting his mind be filled with the textbook presentation of growing up and sex. Man, was I wrong!!???

After getting home from work, J.J. was waiting, ready to pounce on me with details and comments.  No questions from this boy, only facts:

Scene 1:
J.J.:  Dad, I can't wear tighty whiteys anymore.
Dad: <Still breathing hard after getting off the bike>  Uhhh, why not?
J.J.: Well, did you know your testicles are supposed to be held at a temperature of 1 degree Celsius lower than your body temperature.
Dad: <Still catching my breath and attempting to understand what was hitting me.> I didn't know that?!
J.J.: The problem with tighty whiteys is that they hold your testicles too close and they get too warm.
Dad: <Nearly caught up and ready for the offensive.>  What happens if they get too warm?
J.J.: Don't know, but she said we shouldn't wear tighty whiteys, only boxers.
Dad: <On the offensive.>  She! She?  A "she" has no credibility making underwear choices for boys or men.  I have not found tighty whiteys to be a detriment in my life.
J.J.:  Just saying...


Scene 2 (about 1 minute later):
J.J.: Oh, Dad.  I'm not supposed to wear jeans anymore, either?
Dad:  <Now I'm ready.> Really, not
even loose fitting jeans?
J.J.: No jeans.  She said they're too tight too.
Dad:  What are you supposed to wear?
J.J.:  Sweatpants.
Dad:  Sweatpants?  That's it?  You can only wear sweatpants?  And only with boxers?
J.J.:  Yep.

Scene 3 (about 4 minutes later):
J.J.:  Dad? One more thing.
Dad:  Yes...
J.J.:  I'm only supposed to take a shower every 3rd day.
Dad: Huh?
J.J.:  Yep.  A boy my age should only have to shower every third day.
Dad:  Did you ask her about what you should do after you get out of hurling practice in the rain and mud and it's not the 3rd day?
J.J.: No.  Didn't ask her about that.
Dad:  Didn't think you would.

I think it is official.  I've found the last nun teaching sex education in the world.  She's obviously never been in the smelly room of an 11 year old and NEVER had "the talk" with an audience of experienced male underwear wearers on what the correct pair of underwear is for a young boy - One that can withstand multiple bleachings to rid them of unsightly skid marks...And she's obviously never read J.J.'s favorite cartoon (Calvin and Hobbes)!  He's definitely a brief guy, no boxers there!!


Jamison will be having his confirmation this Friday, so please keep him in your prayers.

The legs of a hurler (Jamison's)

The Boss in Dublin

--The timing of this blog is way off.  Somehow, it was mostly written, but never published--

One thing that my Mom instilled in me, whether by design or accident, was patience on acquiring things that weren't really needed.  True to her genius was doing this without me realizing it.  It is certainly something that I try to teach my kids, although I think my direct approach sometimes backfires.  Last year I tried this out on Martha.  It was a grand experiment.  I decided that I wouldn't ACTUALLY get her something for Christmas that she could immediately put on or use.   Instead, I bought her tickets to a concert that wasn't going to happen for 7 months.  Wednesday night in Dublin, the concert finally happened as Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band were in town for their second show.  Martha and I had never been to one of his shows, but any fans of music know they are legendary for their loyal followings and length.  For a 63 year old man (yes, 63), he runs around for 3 1/2 hours on stage without a break longer than a quick drink.  The rest of his band takes off for a break, but he doesn't.  His concerts are definitely key to his workout routine.  He pulled people up on stage.  He carried a young boy on his shoulder after having him sing part of a song.  He picked a woman up in his arms after she was invited on stage to dance.  His shows are so long that they could be tiring for people watching, but he builds people up to a frenzy, and in the end people walk away exhausted but fulfilled.

We had planned to share the concert with our friend Carol that was in town.  She had a long planned a visit to do a bit of walking in Ireland and we tied the concert into the plans.  Shorter in planning, another visit was planned by Phil and Jeanette (my brother and sister-in-law).  So we made a late effort to find one more ticket to make it 5.  That wasn't very successful, but Carol's plans changed and she couldn't join us for the show.  So the 4 of us were able to share the experience

As the Irish say, it was lashing rain at points during the day.  There were made rushes in the family to buy some ponchos (not needed as our seats were covered).  It spit on us as we walked to the train to take it a couple of stops to the RDS (Royal Dublin Society) venue.  Normally a rugby pitch for the local team.  But as showtime approached, the clouds cleared and nary a drop was seen.

His 32 song set can be seen and listed here:  Dublin Setlist, July 18th.

It was a great evening and we were blessed to have been able to share it with Phil and Jeannette.

South through Bavaria and to other countries

Leaving Prague, we decided to run up the score on the number of countries we visited on this trip.  To do that, we headed back to Germany and then south for the Alps.  We couldn't head in that direction without hitting perhaps the biggest tourist attraction in Bavaria - Neuschwanstein Castle.  The model of Disneyland's castle, it is pretty amazing.  The story of the castle is a bit more interesting, but I'll  let you do your own research there.  Crazy Kings and their money are soon parted and some don't leave with their lives.  I had visited the castle in 1994 when Anna and Frank were married.  Mom and I traveled for the wedding.  It has grown up as a tourist attraction since then.  I can't say that the weather cooperated at all.  It was cool and foggy for the majority of the visit, but only managed to turn to cool and rainy.  Good thing it was mostly inside.  As much as I tried to convince my family that I walked up the hill to the castle with my retired Mother, they persisted in badgering me for the ride up in the horse drawn carriage.  It was a rather entertaining ride for J.J. in the front as the left horse had a tendency to release gas when he strained and it was a very big hill!!

 
The castle was never finished, but I thought we were able to see more on this visit than the last and it was pretty cool.  The pretty view from the bridge was nothing but a foggy mess, so that little walk returned few dividends.

After finishing at the castle, we headed for our accommodations. How many of you can say that you not only have been to Liechtenstein, but actually slept there?  We can!  Yes, Martha found a hostel in Liechtenstein. So we touched another country (Austria) and made it to Liechtenstein.  Like everything else we saw in this tiny country, it was neat and clean.  And when looking online for something that sleeps 5, you grab the ones  you see.  The room had a loft with 3 sunken mattresses and was just perfect for us.

It was the Saturday evening before Easter and nearly everything was closed, but we managed to find the one sit-down spot for dinner in the country and had a very wonderful meal.  This country is known as a center of finance and the meal was so costly that I considered financing when the bill came.

I can honestly say that there isn't much to see in Liechtenstein and if I never have to type that word again, I will have had my fill in this blog alone.  I guess there is some good skiing, but that is really it.  We did see this well-lit castle overlooking the city of Vaduz (the capital if you are ever in need of a trivia question answer).  After dinner we decided to drive by it as we were certain it wouldn't be open. On the way up the the steep and curvy road, the excellent meal that we had just paid for and topped off with a VERY LARGE vanilla shake was unceremoniously rejected by Grace before we could stop and find a better location for her to return it.  It was not a happy end to our visit to the country that will not be typed again, but we were certainly happy that it was an event of excess versus an event of illness. We were also thankful for rental cars. Grace has already rejected a number of opportunities to revisit the vanilla milkshake, but I'm sure her memories will fade and they will be welcomed back to her list of acceptable items soon.


 The next day was Easter Sunday and we had a rather long drive to get back to the airport for our journey back to Ireland.  We were all ready.  We chose to drive along the southern side of the Bodensee or Lake Constance.  We ticked Switzerland off our list of countries touched and headed toward Germany.  It is a very beautiful drive with the Alps on the left and the lake on the right.  None of which we saw due the snow and fog that obscured them.  Ah, well.  We had good intentions for a scenic drive.  As we approach hunger time, the reality of Easter Sunday set in.  After a long trip of eating the native food, we succumbed to a McD's.  We just couldn't find anything else and need to prop up our spirits for that last leg.  One more RyanAir flight and we were home in Ireland with nothing to do the next day, but relax.

The biggest event that came out of our trip was J.J.'s decision to become a vegetarian.  We are frankly not sure what triggered this, but he has forsaken meat for the time being and knowing him, it will not be a short endeavor.