Earls and Abbots.

Last weekend, we decided to have a Brennan family outing, so we packed up our car and set off to pay a visit to the town of Kilkenny.  A town, for those of you that don't know, which is about an hour and half drive, south of Dublin.  On the signposts along the motorway it's listed as a 'Medieval City'.  That made me curious, but once we got there I could see why it has that title.  The streets are so narrow they are only wide enough for a horse and carriage, or in some cases, just a horse!  

Anyway, we found our way round the cobbled streets and enjoyed lunch in what was once the stables of Kilkenny Castle.  So, having seen their stables, and while we were in town and had nothing better to do, we decided to pay the The Butlers a visit.  Alas, they weren't in.  

In fact, they haven't been in since 1935..

Even tho' they weren't there, we decided to have a look around their house.  It was a bit like an episode of Cribs. If you've every seen one of those programs, you'll know what I mean.  Everything neat and tidy, beds made, table set, nursery kitted out, library well stocked, garden landscaped, nothing out of place, but looks like nobody lives there!  Well that was what we saw, it was like they had only moved out yesterday.  It all made for very exciting viewing!  

Here I am on the terrace that leads into the very posh dining room and out to the well groomed rose garden.  

There were no roses in bloom, but the garden was still impressive!  Actually the whole house was very impressive.  I really liked the last room I was in, they call it the picture gallery, obviously because it was full of pictures!  And speaking of pictures, on our way in, they told us not to take photos.  But, of course, Dad wasn't listening, and overcome by the spectacular light in the room, he took a photo.  I can be clearly seen in the photo talking to one of the OPW workers questioning her about the beautiful wooden floor.  It looks like I was distracting her so that Dad could take his banned photo!  When I pointed out to him that the taking photos was against the rules, in true criminal style, he put the camera in my bag, took off his hat so that he couldn't be identified by the CCTV and ran for his life, leaving me behind carrying the evidence.

It's a pity that the Butlers, or the Earls of Ormond to give them their full title, had to leave, but they couldn't maintain this lovely dwelling.  The fortunes of the Earls went up and down over centuries and eventually a visit by the then Queen of England in 1900 which cost a pretty penny to stage, and the Wall Street Crash in 1929 which depleted their coffers even more caused them to eventually sell up.  Sad for them, but nice for us now to be able to visit their Castle.

And so Sunday dawned, and being the Sabbath and all that, we decided to be a bit religious and visit the Monks of Jerpoint Abbey.  Well, guess what?  They weren't in either!  

They haven't been in since 1530..

They left when that other English Monarch, Henry the Eight embarked on his dissolution of the Monasteries and politely asked them to vacate the premises.  I'm noticing a pattern here. 

(Note to myself:  in future make sure that you visit stately homes and Abbeys before the English Kings or Queens do!)

I'm sort of glad that the monks weren't there when we called as apparently they were a bit miserable.  

A very jolly and well informed tour guide showed us round the ruined Abbey and described to us the Monks daily routine, and to be quite honest, it sounded like she was reading the script from Monty Pythons sketch "The Four Yorkshire Men"!! The Monks got up at 2 in the morning, after sleeping in their clothes on a straw bed, and straight away went to work. No breakfast!  Unbelievable. They didn't stop work until 12 noon, when they had their one meal of the day, and all they got was watery vegetable soup.  On a special occasion they might get some white meat, but never red meat.  After dinner (if that's what you could call it) they went back to work until an hour before sunset.  I'm still trying to work out how many hours that would be in the summer.  They fared a bit better in the winter as the sun goes down earlier (obviously!).  They lit one fire in one room in November and it stayed lighting until Good Friday, when it was put out.  There were allowed to warm themselves in front of the fire, but only for 5 minutes at a time, up to a total of one hour per day.  Seriously?  In between all that work and lack of food they also had to spend time praying.  Life expectancy for a Monk at the time was 36 years.  I can't blame them for dying young.  I wouldn't want to be a Monk for 36 hours never mind 36 years!  I suppose the only thing that made their life bearable, was the eight pints of beer (which they brewed themselves) that they were allowed daily...

So, next time you are in Kilkenny, spare a thought for the Monks, and have a beer in their honor!

A night at the Opera! (Without the Marks Brothers)

A night at the Opera.

The Dynamic Duo are on tour again.  No, not Batman and Robin, but me and the Maestro.  We are performing again tonight and the local community centre is the venue.  As I type, the audience are taking their seats.  (The seats that I put out myself).  They are reading through the play list.  Surprisingly, it's in Italian.  I really need to learn Italian.  One of these days...

But it's OK, I'm saved, just in the nick of time, the interpreter has arrived.

The anticipation is building.

At last the audience are signed in and seated, and we can begin.  As usual he, the Maestro, starts with a quote.  Well, tonight it's not a quote as such, but a definition of the word Opera:

Opera: "A dramatic work in which the whole of the text is sung with instrumental accompaniment"

That sounds like a definition of me singing along to my iPod whilst washing the dishes.   Washing the dishes in my house is always such dramatic work!

And a bit of trivia to go with the definition?  Well the First opera house was opened in 1637 in Venice.  Sure where else?!

And again as usual, we start like any good Opera, with an Overture. The one chosen tonight is by a composer with an unpronounceable name.  Dad had a try at reading it out.  Everybody had a try at pronouncing it.  Go on, you try.  Schneitzhoeffer!  Well?  Having trouble?  Yes, that's what I thought...

Glancing over the the play list tonight, I see that it is dominated by men.  Somebody called Jose Bros makes a couple of appearances.  He's not bad, for an Italian.  But, I prefer the female singers, and reading down the play list I see the Diva herself, Maria Callas, is making an appearance towards the end.  Keeping the good stuff till last?  That keeps the audience interested.  Although in fairness they all do seem interested.  Well when I say interested, I mean they are all still awake!   Anyway I better get the water glasses cleared away before Ms Callas sings, as some of the notes she hits are so high she is likely to shatter them.

A trivia quiz before the tea break got everybody chatting.  Where was the first place Pavarotti sang outside Italy?

Do you know the answer?  No?  I didn't either, but I do now...

I'm learning lots tonight.  I learned that the Italians had to translate their Operas into French if they wanted them played in Paris.  Those pesky French, always wanting things their own way.

I'm also learning some new tunes as all the music tonight is new to me, there is nothing I recognise.  Sometimes I recognise the track when I hear it but don't know it by name, but not so tonight.  Not to worry, I'm always happy to listen to new music.  There is a track called The Blasphemy Aria.  I like the sound of that one, and shock of shocks, it's sung in English, by a woman!  I might learn it.  It would be a good one for the Karaoke on Saturday Night.

A lot of audience interaction tonight.  That means it's going well, doesn't it?  (It also means they're awake and paying attention!).

All too soon the fat lady sings!  Well it was actually Jose Bros (again) accompanied by a couple of other singers who closed the show with a tune from my old friend Mr. Bellini, entitled 'I yield to a horrible fate'.

And speaking of Bellini's, I think I've earned one.   A good Italian way to finish!  Let's hope it's not a horrible fate for my head in the morning!!

Ta Da!!

Well here it is.  The final product.

Did you guess?

My very first (and last!!) Croquembouche.  Next time a friend asks me to make something for them I'm going to see what they want before I say yes...

You can't really see from the photo, but it's covered in spun sugar.  And so am I.  And so is every utensil and work surface in my kitchen.  The dog is also covered in it, but he is quite happy about that.

It will probably take me longer to clean up then it did to put the cake together.  The caramel that makes the spun sugar is like cement.

Anyway, I would love to stay and chat, but I have a kitchen to clean and then I have a very important rugby game to watch!

Come on Ireland!!  #shouldertoshoulder

Another clue...

So, are you still clued in?

Still guessing?  Or have you given up?

I've nearly given up on the whole project....  only I promised my friend....

Anyway, here's another picture:

I've completed the easy bit, and tomorrow I will attempt to complete the task.  So like any good magician (cos it will take some magic!) I'm going to get an early night before tomorrows great performance.

Keep watching (and guessing!).

Guess what?

A friend asked me to make something for her.  She's having a 'bit of a do' for a special occasion...

So, I've been doing some shopping, from that brilliant store that has everything - the Internet.

This arrived with the postman this morning.

Can you guess what it is?  No?  OK, well it came with instructions, so I'll put it together and then you can have another guess.

Later that day....

I thought it would be a simple task, but the instructions were in Chinese or Japanese, I'm not sure which as I'm proficient in neither.  All I could decipher was something to do with 23 seconds.  I'm not sure if it meant that it took 23 seconds to put this together, or, 23 seconds for your stress levels to rise to dangerous levels while trying to put this together!!  Anyway, after a lot more than 23 seconds, I have finally assembled it and here it is waiting to be used:

Have you guessed yet what it is and what I'm going to make with it?

If yes, then well done! (But don't tell anyone else yet, as I'm trying to keep it a secret).

If no, then tune in again next week and all will be revealed.  (Well I hope all will be revealed, or otherwise this will be in the bin, and I'll be off to that big shop again to try and buy what I'm supposed to be making!!)

Here goes...

I'm ready!

Here we are, ready for the match:

And look, in honor of the occasion I'm even wearing a jersey I am.  It's my nephews shirt.  He says he'll never wear it again...

Come on you boys in green!!

I 

England v Ireland

It's the big match day!

And to celebrate I made some English tea scones.

I'm all set now to sit down and watch the match.  I'm going to eat one of these while I watch Ireland demolish the English.

Lets hope I don't have to eat my words as well...

COYBIG!!