Minor Pleasures (12 Viewers)

we found out in the last 5 years that a relation signed up for the british army before world war 1. Poor (or maybe fortunate) fucker was killed in training and never made it to France.

No one knew a thing about it until a friend of my aunt's accidentally came across his grave in England and did a bit of research into this young lad (19) with an Irish name. Some coincidence that he knew family of his.
 
we found out in the last 5 years that a relation signed up for the british army before world war 1. Poor (or maybe fortunate) fucker was killed in training and never made it to France.

No one knew a thing about it until a friend of my aunt's accidentally came across his grave in England and did a bit of research into this young lad (19) with an Irish name. Some coincidence that he knew family of his.

lots of Irish folks in the british army in wwi, many kept their heads down on their return (without channeling Kevin Myers ;-), more than a couple put their skills to good use in the WOI

the most interesting link with the great events of history in my family is my maternal grandparents; English G.Grandfather fought in WWI (and all his sons in WWII), Irish G.Grandfather tortured by the 'tans, had a nervous breakdown and spent the rest of his life in a mental hospital. Grandfather went to England to work in a munitions factory during the war (and also dug the foundations for what would become windscale/selafield), met my grandmother, and moved back to Ireland to live with his mother... some awkward coversations there I'd say.

There's some more WOI mythology around my paternal G.Grandfather who was more directly involved in the IRA, but as he's a much mythologized figure in the locality I'm not sure how much is fact or fiction.
 
lots of Irish folks in the british army in wwi, many kept their heads down on their return (without channeling Kevin Myers ;-), more than a couple put their skills to good use in the WOI

the most interesting link with the great events of history in my family is my maternal grandparents; English G.Grandfather fought in WWI (and all his sons in WWII), Irish G.Grandfather tortured by the 'tans, had a nervous breakdown and spent the rest of his life in a mental hospital. Grandfather went to England to work in a munitions factory during the war (and also dug the foundations for what would become windscale/selafield), met my grandmother, and moved back to Ireland to live with his mother... some awkward coversations there I'd say.

There's some more WOI mythology around my paternal G.Grandfather who was more directly involved in the IRA, but as he's a much mythologized figure in the locality I'm not sure how much is fact or fiction.
your G.Grandfather is Bobby Sands?
 
your G.Grandfather is Bobby Sands?

ha no. A primary school principle from the days when the priest and school principle were the only two in the village with anything beyond a primary education.

The story is he was involved in planning/adminstration/quatermaster sort of stuff (rather than running round the fields with a lee enfield). Tans apparently searched his classroom, and didn't find a list of names he had tucked into his prayerbook (adding a nice note of ''gaelic:catholic:nationalist'' re-enforcement to the story). Could well be true - but no way of knowing, as even the kids in the classroom are most likely dead now!
 
Aside from the being up early and the swimming, sounds great!
We swam about 1/2 mile out from shore and we're headed back, and this lady stops swimming and is looking right back at me
I immediately ask "you okay?"
"Look at the sunrise"

So I turn around, and there's the two of us treading deep water just ooh- and ahh-ing this glorious miracle of creation before continuing back to shore.

Swimming used to be hard work for me. This awesome lady has shown me the joy in it.
 
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My maternal grandfather who died earlier this year played as a schoolboy international for the Irish Free State and years later was a manager of Telephone United, or whatever it was called, the P&T football team. He was also ambidextrous and could mirror-write with each hand.

My paternal grandfather, who died in 1998, as a child ran messages for the IRB in the Dublin Mountains.
 
I just hate the sea. It’s beautiful from the land or on a boat but the not knowing what’s beneath you feeling is panic inducing. Fuck you Steve Spielberg for traumatising me!

Every now and again things will happen to you in the sea that make you feel very very small. Even if it's friendly and not bitey, it can still make you feel a bit funny. A bottlenose dolphin came out of nowhere, right up to me, RIGHT up to me, I could see their strange skin and hear them and things... like, you know it's not going to eat you. But still like. They could if they liked. You're on their turf now. They appear from nowhere, and go back to nowhere.

There's a lovely seal that likes to sneak up behind me, a seal, lovely girl. But that slipping in and out of existence thing, it's a tough one to get past.
 
It's glorious out there. I had to take a break from work to bring one of the dogs to a groomer. Driving around this stunning midlands countryside I just wanted to keep going
 

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