A drive with Howard

The best laid plans are often the ones that come unstuck. Robert found that in Devon and now we have experienced it also. Allan woke Thursday morning and sat up in bed only to have a wave of sickness come over him. He spent the day between the bed and (as Howard McCollum would say) the big porcelain telephone. There was no way we were driving to Cavan that day.

But we were confident that the Lord was with us, so settled in with Marion for another day. We got to see Charis and two of the boys again, bonus. I had a lovely day with Marion, talking and walking. And I got to do two loads of washing, double bonus.

Friday morning looking out of Marion's kitchen window at sunshine. Yeh! But it didn't last. Allan was feeling better but very weak. We had a quiet, slow beginning, enjoying one last devotional with Marion before we headed off. Called into John and Barbara's for a quick stop over before continuing onto Cavan, in the rain, arriving in time for 2pm dinner, which Allan didn't eat.

It is so good to be back in Cavan and sitting around the kitchen table again. Howard, Catherine and John were there to greet us warmly. Catherine collected some of the grandchildren from school and brought them back. What a lovely sound, the children speaking with their beautiful Irish accent. I think they are having difficulty understanding us because they look blankly at us when we speak to them.

Now I know you are already asking if we have had any of Howard's epic road trips yet. Yesterday we set off for a drive at 6pm! Yep, that's right, 6PM! Another entertaining drive in the car with Howard at the wheel and Catherine driving from the back seat. Howard is a human road map, he drives, claiming he doesn't know where he is going but always knows where we are. We drove past the house where my aunt and uncle used to live and the present owner was out the front so Howard stopped for a chat. It's like his car can't drive past anyone who can be spoken to, much to Catherine's dismay.

He drove us to See House, the former and very old residence of the bishop of Cavan, where there was a group of bearded men standing out front. Howard's conversation began with a comment about bearded men to which they were quick to say he could join them (Howard has a beard). Something was then said about placing bees around the area - not sure what that had to do with anything but that never stops Howard. One of the men stuck his head into the car and asked, "Who are you?" The quick response was that he was driving his visitors from Australia around and quickly asked what they were doing at the residence. Turns out they are a band, making a video in the building because it has great acoustics, very echoey and loud. The band is called Ten Ton Slug! If you want to scare yourself, google it. Howard asked what kind of music and was told heavy metal. He asked if it was heavy in weight or heavy in sound. "Heavy in sound" he was told. So in true howardism, he asked for a sample. The lead singer began to sing and Howard joined in immediately. Without the band backing him it just sounded like typical Irish music. I asked if I could take their photo and their agreeableness was a satisfactory end to the conversation. We all parted on good terms with much laughter all round.

Howard began telling us about a man named Sean Quinn, a local bloke from Ballyconnell, who started off working in a quarry on the family farm and then developed a cement factory, so he needed a road between the two. He managed to get the approval of every farmer along the planned road and had the road made and sealed. We drove along the road for quite some time, meeting a small group of ponies who wouldn't stop running in front of us. They only had short legs so we were expecting them to run out of puff but they didn't. Eventually we managed to pass them, so we hope they have stopped running.

Mr Quinn continued to build his empire, employing over 5500 people and turning what was a very poor area into a thriving community. Eventually he got too big for his boots, ended up in prison and lost his whole empire. Most of what he built still employs the locals but he has lost his reputation in his old age and his money. He was once the richest man in Ireland.

We travelled through or heard about many towns with charming names; there was Doapey which is near Aghabog. We passed Knockninny's Well and someone commented that they didn't know he was unwell! Finally drove past a signpost to Auchankillymaude before stopping for tea at Maggie May's, just before 9:00pm. Just caught the kitchen before they closed. An Irish man named Sean set up his gear in preparation for a night of singing. We stayed for a few songs but they were all very mournful, so typical of so many Country songs.

Arrived back at the farm round about 10:30 and watched a show on telly about Michael Flatley, the American guy who developed Riverdance. The prancing pony is still kicking up his heels. I wonder if the other ponies have stopped kicking up theirs!