And now for something completely different!

I thought you might have had enough of me and my tales of babies bikers and breezes, so today I decided to treat (?) you to something different.

So, here's something that my Father wrote for his granddaughter, my seven year old niece Eliza.  Eliza, who was born and lives in London, has decided to take an interest in all things Irish, including Leprechauns and tales of folklore as told to her by her Grandad...

Unless you are Irish, or have some insight as to how my Father's brain works (I think we might need Prof Wiseman's help with that one!), then you may not fully 'get' the humour in this short story.  I really hope you do.  But, of course as with anything I post here that I don't write myself, I must issue a public health and safety warning before you attempt to read it!! 

WARNING:
The reading of this story may leave you never being able to take a goat or a Leprechaun (or me) seriously again.  So if you are a lover of all thing 'goat', then stop reading now.

You have been warned!!!


BILLY THE KID-GOAT, AND THE LEPRECHAUNS
A silly story by GRANDAD


Once upon a time there was an old man who lived alone on the top of a mountain in Co. Kerry.  His name was FESTY O'HOULIGAN and his mother had been a witch called NELLY (The belly) O'KELLY.  She owned a Deli, which was smelly.  That's why Festy moved to the top of the mountain.  


The mountain was named CARRANTOUHIL, which when translated means: ' the mountain with the cave on it where old Leprechauns go when they retire from minding the crock of gold and painting all the colours of the rainbow'.  There they play poker with the coins that 'fell off' the crocks that they were supposed to be minding.


Festy was a hermit, a man who wanted to live alone away from all the crowds and people of towns and villages.  His only friend was a big Puck Goat called GAROID (Gerry the Goat).  Now Garoid loved the mountain, and the plants and bushes that grew there, because this was, to a billy goat, a toy shop a sweet shop and a cake shop all rolled into one.  Garoid loved leaves, shoots, and sweet new branches which he chewed up with gusto.  He enjoyed just galloping all over the place and leaping over the bushes of gorse and clumps of heather.  He was especially fond of purple heather, which he felt was as good as any choc-ice that he licked from the wrappers left behind by the littering tourists down at the boreen (little road) car park.


Because Garoid was a fine big strong and handsome goat, he was just the sort of animal that the people of the nearby town wanted for their annual PUCK FAIR, a sort of big party held every year.  At this party they had a big boy-goat (A billy) high up on a platform where they crowned him 'King Puck'.  The goats did not like this at all, and they made great efforts not to be caught out on the mountain.  This year Garoid was the biggest and the most handsome of all the goats on the mountain, and Festy was determined that he would not be captured and be made King Puck.


Festy had a plan, and as soon as he heard the noise of the searchers at the foot of the mountain, he stopped his prayers and went in search of Garoid.  He found the billy-goat beside a very large clump of rocks playing with two sheep.  The sheep were twisting a long rope over and under and Garoid was skipping over it while the woolly fellas were chanting a skipping rhyme...


Umpa, Umpa, we have woolly Jumpas,
Goats, Goats have only hairy coats,
Pigs, Pigs can't do Irish jigs
Aon, Doh, Tree...skip along with me!


They were from the Gaeltacht at Sheep Head.


"Garoid" called Festy, "come here quickly, we have to hide you, cos the goat rustlers are out on the mountain".  The only place that Festy could think of as a hiding place for Garoid was the cave of the retired Leprechauns known to all the locals as 'Poul an Oir' (or in English, the 'Golden Hole').  Now the Society for Sick and Indigent Leprechauns, was very partial to Festy, and trusted him not to tell where the entrance was to their rest home, known as 'Cus in airde, thoin sios, (which means in English, 'feet up, bums down') Casino and Rest Home'.


Festy took Garoid to the back door which was down a rabbit hole and under the roots of a whitethorn tree, into the kitchen of the Golden Hole.  He was greeted by the chief Leprechaun, BIG EDDIE, who was the oldest and the meanest of the residents, and who was a tall as Festy's cat.  "Why are you bringing that smelly goat in here?  He will eat all our clothes and our beards and we will not be able to go to any of the international football matches!!  Besides we are going to hold and international congress of Leprechauns here next month and the Jewish and Arab and African Leprechauns won't want to stay here if we have a goat staying with us.  You can leave him if he promises not to head butt the Chef, and he lets us have his milk for cheese."  Both Garoid and Festy agreed, and Festy went back home.


In two days, Garoid had learned to play poker, and to cheat better than the little fellas did, so he won all their gold coins from them.  He was now King Puck in the Golden Hole and not very popular with the little men!  Big Eddie called a meeting of the council to find a way of getting back their money, and also getting rid of Garoid.  The meeting agreed that they should send Ruby, (the jockey Leprechaun) on their fastest rabbit to Donegal with a plea to their great friend Daniel (here's your tea Ma) Dullnote, who was an expert on dragging money from people, especially hairy people.  Daniel arrived by helicopter and landed on the mountain near Festy's cave, and was greeted by a salvo of 24 sheep bleats and 2 cow farts as he knelt to kiss the ground.  He spat out some sheep sultanas and set off for the Golden Hole.  


Daniel was greeted by Big Eddie and filled in on the currant goat situation.  Daniel knew right away how to resolve this dire problem.  He would sing...  Daniel cleared his throat, and the room. Skinny Sindey (the anorectic Leprechaun) disappeared into his beard and was never seen again.  Louis the Lip Leprechaun choked on his snail sandwiches (which came from the 'Smelly Deli').  The Chef (Cookie Chips) fell into the chip fryer and became the first deep-fried Leprechaun in Ireland.


When Garoid heard Daniel sing, he made a dash for the back door and in his haste forgot to gather his coins.  He had left them on the Tallboy in his room, but the Tallboy decided to keep the gold for himself.  Really, he was the smallest of the Leprechauns, but they called him Tallboy for short.


Garoid ran straight back to Festy's cave and when the hermit saw him coming he ran out to meet his missing goat.  In his haste he tripped over a snail that was running home from school to see Postman Pat on the Television.


Garoid picked up poor Festy and helped him back into his cave, where Festy hold him that it was now all right to go back out on the mountain and play with his woolly friends once more.  The Puck festival was over and the second class of a goat, which the festival had hoisted up instead of Garoid, had been released, and was now out on the mountain again and all would be safe for another year.


Now..
If you ever go to Carrantohil, and see some skipping goats
Don't ever mention Daniel for he wouldn't get their votes.
For all the hairy Leprechauns who live at Golden Hole,
lost all their golden income and are dependent on the dole.... 

Born to be wild!

692 miles, 30+ riders, 18 counties, 8 (or 9) hospitals, 4 (or 5) police escorts, several babies...and a partridge in a pear tree!!

Me, all the other riders, pillion passengers, and support crew, are home safe.  Although the last bit of the journey along the M7/N7 from Portlaoise to Dublin today wasn't the easiest of rides.  The cross winds were horrendous and even the more experienced drivers were complaining.  At one stage it was so bad that I contemplated getting off the bike and riding in one of the support cars.  But then I remembered little (tiny) Baby S that I had met on the first day and thought what would happen if she gave up.  She can't give up, so I thought I better not...  Even Joe said at one stage that it wasn't much fun, but he never complained about the Velcro like grip that kept me attached to him for most of the motorway driving.  I didn't dare let go!  But once we reached the relative shelter of town and were guided in along the north Quay then down Dame street by two Police bikes stopping the traffic and making noise, we forgot all about the wind, and enjoyed the ride, and the excitement, and the noise...!

So now I really have, been there, done that, and worn the tee-shirt.  Me, and the rest of the crew, were presented with 'Prem Baby Warriors' tee-shirts last night and they were proudly worn today by all and sundry.  At last I had some part of the uniform that wasn't borrowed!!

We had dinner at the Hard Rock cafe and then after many fond farewells (including one for my brother, who  leaves tomorrow and faces a drive of 300 miles home when he gets off the ferry) and plenty of hugs, I made my way home, on 4 wheels!

All that's left now is to unpack my bag and put away all my stuff.  What an anti climax.

I wiped clean my helmet and put it back into its protective bag.  I opened a wardrobe door to put it away and I wondered when would be the next time that I get to wear it again....

So, what did you learn from my experience??  :-)

The long and winding road...

Today, "The late JC" as the bikers fondly refer to him as, smiled on us and it was sunshine all the way.  That meant that I got to ride in leathers like a real biker instead of the very unflattering rain gear that I has been my uniform for the past two days. Obviously, I looked VERY cool!!

So, 14 counties, two more hospitals and several more babies.   One of the hospitals was presented with a 'syringe driver'. A machine thats keeps the babies intravenously fed a drip of glucose at a time until they are able to be fed in a normal way for a prem baby.  Again, it wasn't my turn to see the babies.   But my big brother, who is on this trip with me, did get to visit the prem unit.  Normally a man of many words (must be a Brennan thing), he had very few when he came out.  He swears that the baby he saw moved her hand when he waved at her as the nurse held her upright.  He was a bit emotional.   I know how he felt. 

While he was in there and the rest of the group were waiting outside, I was chatting to one of the riders who rides in a different group to mine.  He told me that he had had two prem babies.  Neither had survived.  I have no idea how to put into words how that must have felt/feel, so I am not going to try...

I also spoke to a lady this evening whose husband Liam, is on the trip, that had a prem baby 43 years ago.  She had to watch him develop through a glass window for the first month of his life.  She didn't get to hold him until he was a month old...again I have no words!  How times have changed.  She made me cry with her story, but she had endless praise for the nurses that, through their dedication, she got her baby home, on her second wedding anniversary, when the porter from the hospital cycled down to her house to tell her to bring her baby home.

So day three on the road.  I have decided that I don't like motorways on two wheels.  Normally when four wheels are at my disposal, a motorway would be my first choice, but on two wheels, they are just boring, and windy, and scary!

After our hospital visit this morning, we had a longish journey to get to the ferry, so having sorted the earphones for my iPod and the speakers for our communication device, and finally getting them comfortable under the helmet, I plugged myself in and off we set.  Being plugged in with the sound up, on the back of a bike, is very isolating, you are very detached from everything.  It wasn't unpleasant (except for the motorway bit) and I sat comfortably in my isolation until we stopped for lunch.

After lunch we had a shorter trip to the ferry at Tarbert so myself and Joe chatted on the radio.  At one stage we passed a wind farm.  I asked him to stop so that I could go in and tell them that some of their produce had escaped and it has been following me for the past two days!!!  He said we'd miss the ferry if we stopped...

Made the ferry in nice time and we were all very giddy, buying lollipops from the little kiosk on board and taking photos up on the top deck.  A very pleasant crossing, but No dolphins today tho'.

Another learning day!!  Today I learned:

That you need to make sure that all your hair is tucked in under your helmet as loose strands flapping in your face can be very annoying.

That no matter how hard you try, you cannot avoid helmet hair!

That you need to check that the zip on your leather trousers and the zip at the back of your jacket are compatible, other wise you can't zip them together and keep the draught out.  I had several offers of help with that problem from the bikers...hmmm...

That being isolated from the world with only my music and my thoughts was very good for me.

And last but not least, I really need to delete some of the rubbish that I have on my iPod!!!   :-)

Day two in the big brother house...

Yesterday, I had an amazing experience!  

I wasn't sure what, if anything, could top that! Well...today I had an equally as amazing but definitely the coolest experience ever, because this morning we were treated to a police escort through Letterkenny.   (That was after we had the guided tour of the town by Joe who couldnt find the hospital even with sat nav, he has been re-christened now asTom Tom McConville). Anyway the escort was VERY exciting.  30+ bikes all riding in formation with a policeman on a bike holding up the traffic at every junction and roundabout! I haven't seen the like of it since the Queen visited Ireland last summer!! The stopped traffice rose to the challenge and sounded their horns, which in turn set the bikers revving their engines.  The noise was incredible.  I had been pre warned not to be "plugged in" (listening to my iPod) as I would miss the excitement.  For once I was glad that I took somebody's advice.  Although even if I had been plugged in I don't think I'd have missed anything.  Did I mention that it was VERY exciting!

So, we visited three hospitals today but I didn't get to see any babies.  No, instead I got to see the reaction of the big hairy bikers that did get to visit the tiny creatures.  It was very funny to see big leather clad bikers being reduced to tears by a visit to helpless tiny tots...

So far on this trip we have passes through 11 counties. I noticed every so often yesterday and today, that Joe would take both hands off the wheel and stretch out his arms out wide.  Slightly concerned I asked him were his arms getting stiff?  He explained that on the route 66 trip across the US it was traditional to do this when you cross a state line.  So he has adapted the tradition for the county borders in Ireland.  Not to be outdone and always one to follow tradition (!!) I joined in.  So now we do both do it,Titanic-esq !!  He tells me that before we go home I have to stand up on the back and do it Leo and Kate esq.  Hmmm, there's more chance of me swimming the channel, and I'm a terrible swimmer!!


So what did I learn today?


The bikers bible of hand signals! (I'm still on the gospel according to Joe)

How to greet an oncoming biker - by sticking you leg out as one approaches! (I've been really friendly all day as my knees have been so stiff I have to keep moving them)

Not to undertake a police escort while talking on your iPhone!! (yes somebody did)


So, to Kerry tomorrow, on the Tarbert ferry and hopefully spot some Dolphins!

Now....slee....zzzz

Baby it's cold outside!

Today I had an amazing experience.  

Yes, I did 164 miles on the back of a Harley never having been on a bike before, but that wasn't it. No today I met an amazing little lady, Baby S, who is a resident I'd the Neo Natal intensive care unit in our lady of Lourdes hospital in Drogheda. She was born a week ago, at just 28 weeks and was completely oblivious to me staring in to the incubator at her.  She was oblivious too to the wind and rain and cold that we had ridden through to get to see her.  I, along with one other lucky girl were invited in to the unit to see just what the money we raised had paid for.  

When I decided to do this trip it was all about me.  A new experience for me. Something I had never done before. Yes I had to raise the money and yes, I knew it was for charity, but I didn't really give it much thought.  

Today, apart from Baby S I met another amazing lady Mary Tonbin, the sister in charge of the prem unit.  And unlike me, her every thought is about the babies.  She gave us a tour of her domain and answered every question before I had a chance to ask it.  Actually I probably wouldn't have been able to speak coherently as the whole thing made me very emotional. She explained how no baby goes home until they reach 2kilos.  2kgs! Thats still tiny! And how the machines help them to breath.  Myself and Emma were privileged indeed, as normally only parents and grand parents are allowed in. Mary made us feel very welcome and I would be very happy to put my most precious possession in her very capable and caring hands.  I was miserable and cold when I got there, after my baptism of fire wind rain and 40 foot trucks the m50, but I came out with a very warm heart. I thought of little (tiny in fact) Baby S and the way that I am sure she arched her eyebrow when Mary said her name, and was very happy to get back on the back of the bike.

So, As well as learning how the machines in a neo natal unit work to help the babies breath, I also learned that:

Bikers get respect, especially when they ride in formation of groups of ten. (I was riding with the road captain, so I get loads of respect!!)

I Also learned that it's not wind burn on my face and I've actually been sandblasted by the sh*t that's coming up of the road. (What SPF do I need for that?)

That you need to chose your earrings very carefully as apparently they need to go with your helmet!! And myself and the other biker lady on this trip got a demonstration of how to keep your earrings on from a big hairy biker!! (I lost both my earrings by the time we reached drogheda.)

That leather trousers are very uncomfortable...

I learned about the 'bring and fling' policy....no really...you don't want me to explain that one. (it relates to underwear)

That's it's hard to scratch your nose when your gloves are too big to fit in 
under your visor!

I'm riding 'bitch" and apparently that's a term of endearment. (but my jury is still out on that one).

And also, being on the road from 7.30 in the morning makes you very t.i.r.e...zzzz

One for the road...

Only three more sleeps, including tonight, 'till my bike trip.  Well, that's if I actually do get any sleep between now and Thursday.  I'm not sure if it's excitement or sheer terror that's keeping me awake these nights!!

But while I was lying awake staring at the ceiling counting sheep, (or is that counting sheep-like cobwebs) I had the bright idea that I would make myself a play list for my iPod, for the bike ride.  Of course while I am lying awake I can think of loads of tunes that would make great biking tracks, but eventually I doze off and then when I wake up, I can't remember any of them.  I keep meaning to leave a pen and paper beside my bed so that when I do have a eureka moment I can write it down.  But I am usually so tired I forget to!!

So, whilst having dinner with family and friends on Saturday night, I told them of my plan and (mistakenly) asked for some suggestions for suitable 'biker type' tracks.

After much discussion (arguments) the following were suggested:

Steppenwolf - Get your motor running.
Thin Lizzy - The boys are back in town.
Motorhead - The ace of spades.
ACDC - A whole lotta Rosie
(I can see a pattern forming here)
Ram Jam - Black Betty
Status Quo - Rocking all over the world.
(The pattern has just gotten a bit fuzzy)
And, any track by Dumpys Rusty Nuts!

I must have been a biker in a former life because I already have most of those on my iPod.  With the exception of Dumpys Rusty Nuts, who I had to 'You tube'.  But, to my surprise, I did actually know some of their stuff.  (I'll never admit to that in court).

But then, the plot thickened as it was then suggested that Harley drivers, or 'riders' as I should be calling would be more likely to listen to the following:

Westlife - You raise me up
Boys to Men - I'll make love to you....
Queen - Fat bottomed girls.
Abba - Fernando

(Fat bottomed girls!!!  I hope that wont be a reference to me when I am finished the trip)

Is somebody trying to tell me something, are Harley Riders not the big burley 'hard' men that I think they are.  Well I will let you know when I find out on Thursday.  I hope I am not disappointed, buecause I'll never learn to sing those songs by Thursday.  (I can do a good version of The Boys are back in Town - but that might be just while I am counting those cobwebs).

Anyway, I did remember one track that is definitely going on my 'Tripping' list.  It's this one:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6yCIDkFI7ew

It's my 'headworm' at the moment, which is good, because I think it makes a really good biking track....I can just see myself....rolling down the highway....wind in my hair (the bit that's sticking out from under my helmet)...sun shining....singing at the top of my voice...

Oh wait, it's Ireland, the forecast is rain, and we don't have any highways....oh well, back to counting the cobwebs....

Sweet Dreams.

Professor Wiseman (yes, that really is his name!), of Hertfordshire University in the UK, has developed an App that will induce sweet dreams….

According to Mr Wiseman getting a good night’s sleep and having pleasant dreams will boost your productivity, and are essential for psychological and physical well-being.  Jeez did we really need a wise professor to tell us that?  He wants to find out why we dream and how we can provoke pleasant dreams.

Anyway, apparently you download this App and it turns your iPhone or iPad into a dream factory.  Loads of people are talking part in his experiment.  The App plays you sounds which are designed to make you think of pleasant scenes such as… lying on a beach…golden sand all around…the sound of the sea ebbing back and forward gently…not a cloud in the sky…a cocktail in one hand… a book in the other…the sun beating down on you….oops nearly dozed off there!!

So, you go to his university, you lie down, an iPad or iPhone plays you peaceful pleasant sounds, you go asleep, dream a lovely dream, and then you wake up and tell Mr Wiseman all about it!!  No wonder thousands of people have volunteered!

You can download the app from iTunes, go on try it, now, while you are working.  You can tell your boss that you are taking part in a very important experiment.

I should have been a professor, because that would be a great experiment to take part in or even conduct.  Oh well, I can daydream…

Gosh, I hope nobody invents an App for monitoring daydreaming, ‘cos I’d really be in trouble!!

Should I stay or should I go?

I read yesterday that there were along with all the others, 353 female passengers, 3 barbers, four priests and a monk on board the Titanic when it sank on its maiden voyage.   It’s, apparently, a common held superstition among sailors that women, red heads, flowers, priests and dogs are bad luck, and some old time sailors would suggest that the cumulative effect of all these on board the doomed ship, angered the sea so much that it caused the terrible tragedy. 

And it’s a well-known fact that a lot of Airlines don’t have a row 13 on their fleet of Airplanes because of passenger’s superstitions, and it’s also suggested that air travel drops dramatically on a Friday 13^th.

Believe it or not, If you are travelling on a train, you are supposed to stop talking when passing under a railway bridge because it is unlucky no to do so.

Apparently too, there’s a legend that tells of Evil Road Spirits that have been latching themselves on to motorcycles for as long as there have been bikes on the road. These Evil Road Spirits are responsible for mechanical problems and bad luck along a journey. Legend goes on to say that by attaching a small bell onto your bike, the Evil Road Spirits will become trapped inside the bell where the constant ringing drives them insane, making them lose their grip until they fall to the ground. (So that’s where potholes come from?) Legend also has it that the mystery of the Guardian Bell carries twice as much power when it is purchased by a friend or loved one and given as a gift.

Also, another well know superstition is that anyone embarking on any sort of journey by whatever means should never look back once they set off, as this will mean bad luck for the rest of the day.  There are hundreds of other seeming senseless superstitions associated with travel all over the world. Like for example if you are Russian, you must sit on your luggage.  If you are Scottish you must leave by the same door that you came in.  If you were from the Philippines you would have to turn your dinner plate in a clockwise direction before you set out on a journey.  In Mexico you have to put your luggage on the front door step the night before you travel.  Try doing that in Tallaght!!  Jeez…If we were to believe them all or to carry out all the rituals associated with them before we went anywhere, then we would never go anywhere.

Last night I went (without doing any rituals) to a meeting of my new ‘biker’ friends.  We were meeting to have a safety briefing and be put into our groups and to get our itinerary.  When all the official stuff was finished I was presented with my very own ‘guardian angel’, in the form of a little metal pin.  Apparently I can’t go on the bike without it.  I was really pleased, I feel like I have been ‘accepted’ and I am one of the gang now.  They all wear an angel or a bell somewhere on their bikes and I have to wear mine pinned to my jacket while on our journey! 

But it’s OK, I’m not superstitious.  I’ll wear it! It won’t take me long to put it on, just a couple of seconds after I… make sure it’s not a Friday 13^th….spill water for good luck….clean the house….throw salt over my shoulder….make sure my underwear is not inside out….get a bird to poo on me…. find a four leafed clover…tie a bunch of mint around my wrist….put my lucky coin in my pocket….find a black cat…