Author: Alan Skeoch

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EPISPODE 668 NEW FARMHOUSE ROOF…DONE IN WINTER 2019


EPISPODE 668     NEW FARMHOUSE ROOF…DONE IN WINTER 2019

alan skeoch
oct 28, 2022

As winter approached in 2019 our new roofing crew arrived.  Surprised us.   Who would expect 
roofers to work on a slippery metal roof as snow felll.  But they did.  And they did the whole job
including downspouts and eavestroughs in just two days.  Skilled tradesmen…no small talk.


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EPISODE 667 THE BIG PUSH…THE BIG BOX…FAILURE IS NOT AN OPTION OCT. 27, 2022

EPISODE 667     THE BIG PUSH…THE BIG BOX…FAILURE IS NOT AN OPTION   OCT. 27, 2022

alan skeoch
Oct. 27, 2022

What is happening at the end of Pinetree Way?  A lot of people are chewing their fingernails this week end?  Because this is the week end
of the big push…Big push!  It is happening while the leafy splendour of Mary Fix Park remains unchanged as in the picture.


DATELINE:  OCTOBER 27, 2022    WHAT IS THE ‘BIG PUSH”?

I am sure that a  lot of top construction engineers will be nervously chewing their fingernails this
week end.  Why?   Because this week end the big box is about  to be pushed under the
railway tracks at Port Credit, Ontario.   Suppose something goes wrong and the push box
fails.   Suppose the railway tracks above are moved even slightly then the whole  the push box is compromised…i.e. bent, broken, collapsing.
Then we have a major disaster on our hands.  East West transportation by rail will be disrupted.
The GO trip will cease to operate.  Freight traffic also.  A disaster.

Tests indicate success.  Cross your fingers.

There are two ‘Big Pushes” planned.  The second one?  Pushing a concrete box under the Queen Elizabeth Way
The box must succeed. .  Failure cannot be considered.  The Queen Elizabeth way is the most travelled
super highway in Canada.   If the big push fails and the QEW is compromised then transportation east west will
be impossible.   

So there will be two big pushes underway shortly both of which will allow the new Light Railway to connect
Brampton to Port Credit.  The cost?  4.6 billion dollars.  The cost of success.   What is the cost of failure?
Inconceivable.  Both big pushes must succeed.

I think it would be a good ides for all of us to the our fingernails this week end.

alan skeoch



Just stones throw from Mary Fix Park is this jumble of construction signs, police cars, Excsvstors, drag lines, detours, and Johny on the Spots.



Something big is about to happen but no one can see behind this jumble of huge concrete slabs … THE BIG PUSH = THE BIG BOXES…one at Port Credit …and the other
at the Queen Elizabeth Highway and Hurontario Street.  The cost so far is 4.6 billion dollars.

$4.6 billion Hurontario LRT uses unique ‘push box’ system to keep trains rolling


COURTESY METROLINX — A large part of the $4.6 billion Hurontario LRT project is the push box, which is a large, hollow concrete box that will be pushed under the rail tracks to create a tunnel underneath without disrupting rail service above. Last year, crews completed a critical part of the process: the launch slab. The next step is to push the system through and lay the tracks. A pre-push successfully took place in February.

The $4.6 billion Hurontario LRT, which will be renamed the Hazel McCallion Line, a critical 18-kilometre north-south connection between Port Credit and Brampton, is on track with plenty of work on tap for 2022.

Crews will be installing a tunnel underneath the GO rail tracks at Port Credit station and building a new underpass under the QEW at Hurontario Street. New flood walls are also being erected to protect Mary Fix Creek.

“The delivery of the Hazel McCallion Line is making great progress,” says Matt Llewellyn, a spokesperson for Metrolinx. “Significant pieces of work were completed in 2021, creating for an exciting start to 2022.”

Last year crews installed about 7.5 kilometres of new watermain, sanitary and stormwater sewers along Hurontario Street.

The 11,000-square-metre Operations Maintenance Storage Facility (OMSF) south of Highway 407 and west of Kennedy Road is nearing completion, with the internal fit-out now underway. It will have an operating centre that will control the LRT system. Tracks will be installed in the yard this year.


As a refresher, the push box is a large, hollow concrete box that will be pushed underneath the Lakeshore West rail tracks at the Port Credit GO Station. This will create a tunnel under the rail tracks, allowing the future LRT line to move without disrupting rail service on the tracks above.


i0.wp.com/blog.metrolinx.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/02/LSW-Structure-Push-Box-2-edited.jpg?resize=300%2C169&ssl=1 300w, i0.wp.com/blog.metrolinx.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/02/LSW-Structure-Push-Box-2-edited.jpg?resize=1024%2C575&ssl=1 1024w, i0.wp.com/blog.metrolinx.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/02/LSW-Structure-Push-Box-2-edited.jpg?resize=768%2C431&ssl=1 768w, i0.wp.com/blog.metrolinx.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/02/LSW-Structure-Push-Box-2-edited.jpg?resize=1536%2C863&ssl=1 1536w, i0.wp.com/blog.metrolinx.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/02/LSW-Structure-Push-Box-2-edited.jpg?resize=2048%2C1150&ssl=1 2048w, i0.wp.com/blog.metrolinx.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/02/LSW-Structure-Push-Box-2-edited.jpg?resize=1200%2C674&ssl=1 1200w, i0.wp.com/blog.metrolinx.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/02/LSW-Structure-Push-Box-2-edited.jpg?resize=160%2C90&ssl=1 160w, i0.wp.com/blog.metrolinx.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/02/LSW-Structure-Push-Box-2-edited.jpg?w=1440&ssl=1 1440w, i0.wp.com/blog.metrolinx.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/02/LSW-Structure-Push-Box-2-edited.jpg?w=2160&ssl=1 2160w” data-lazy-loaded=”1″ sizes=”(max-width: 720px) 100vw, 720px” loading=”eager”>




Image shows work on Port Credit GO and the push box.i0.wp.com/blog.metrolinx.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/02/LSW-Push-Box-Steps-v3-004.jpg?resize=300%2C197&ssl=1 300w, i0.wp.com/blog.metrolinx.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/02/LSW-Push-Box-Steps-v3-004.jpg?resize=1024%2C673&ssl=1 1024w, i0.wp.com/blog.metrolinx.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/02/LSW-Push-Box-Steps-v3-004.jpg?resize=768%2C505&ssl=1 768w, i0.wp.com/blog.metrolinx.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/02/LSW-Push-Box-Steps-v3-004.jpg?resize=1536%2C1010&ssl=1 1536w, i0.wp.com/blog.metrolinx.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/02/LSW-Push-Box-Steps-v3-004.jpg?resize=2048%2C1347&ssl=1 2048w, i0.wp.com/blog.metrolinx.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/02/LSW-Push-Box-Steps-v3-004.jpg?resize=1200%2C789&ssl=1 1200w, i0.wp.com/blog.metrolinx.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/02/LSW-Push-Box-Steps-v3-004.jpg?resize=137%2C90&ssl=1 137w, i0.wp.com/blog.metrolinx.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/02/LSW-Push-Box-Steps-v3-004.jpg?w=1440&ssl=1 1440w, i0.wp.com/blog.metrolinx.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/02/LSW-Push-Box-Steps-v3-004.jpg?w=2160&ssl=1 2160w” data-lazy-loaded=”1″ sizes=”(max-width: 720px) 100vw, 720px” loading=”eager”>







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EPISODE 666 SOON THE LEAVES WILL BE DOWN SO HERE IS A FINAL REMINDER OF THEIR GLORY

EPISODE 666     SOON THE LEAVES WILL BE DOWN SO HERE IS A FINAL REMINDER OF THEIR GLORY

alan skeoch
oct. 25, 2022

In spite of the ugly presence of Covid 19 there is still lots of room for us to marvel at the world
around us.   We have both contracted Covid 18 sadly.  I registered clear and thought my life
could rear not normal so I went to our curling club for my regular fame.  A mistake.  No energy even
though free from Covid.   I really let my team down.   John Morton’ team knew that I was not up
to par when they  did not put the third end score on the board…i.e. i failed to do an obvious take out 
because I had no strength.   We cancelled the game.  I disappointed Tracey and Peter who also
noted I could not throw a takeout rock.   Even though Covid free it will take time to be able to
wing  a rock down the ice.

So here are some pics that show that our trees are holding on to their fall leaves just to 
keep us all happy.  
….except for that derelict farm…

alan
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EPISODE 665 : Guess what’s happening next week on Glenburnie

EPISODE 665  : Guess what’s happening next week on Glenburnie

Marjorie skeoch
Ot 22, 2022



Some good news this morning.  I tested negative for Covid 19….at last.  From my birthday last Sunday Oct. 16 to my rescue from

the clutches of  the virus…today, Oct 22, 2022 I have been on a nasty roller coaster ride that I would not like  to visit ever again.

Note that the second red line is gone…which means I am virus negative.

Here is Marjorie’s contribution































Sent from my iPhone


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EPISODE 661 THE WUHAN MARKET, HORSESHOE BATS, RACCOON DOGS, AND THE COVID 19 VIRUS (OCT. 19, 2022) ALAN SKEOCH

EPISODE 661   THE WUHAN  MARKET,  HORSESHOE BATS, RACCOON DOGS, AND THE COVID 19 VIRUS  (OCT. 19, 2022) ALAN SKEOCH


alan skeoch
oct. 19, 2022





Large-eared Horseshoe Bat - The Australian Museum

HORESHOE BAT …
Cute little fellows?  Not cute at all…the link between Covid 19 and humanity


Untold story: That time when Asian raccoon dogs nearly invaded Minnesota - Duluth News Tribune | News, weather, and sports from Duluth, Minnesota
RACCOON DOG

One of the rarest animal in the world…a raccoon dog.  No  others in
its family tree save , perhaps distant connection to the fox family. 
I had never heard of raccoon dogs until I got Covid 19  on Oct. 16, 2022.
The was my 84th birthday and I was sick, really sick after a root canal surgery
three days earlier on Thursday Oct. 14, 2022.  On those days I had no reason to link
my illness to this RACCOON DOG, one of the rarest creatures on earth today.

 the Raccoon dog today is on the verge of extinction.


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CUTE, but also very dangerous.  Raccoon dogs are now the chief suspects in the spread of the Coronavirus around the world with
hundreds of thousands of deaths.

How can the scourge be traced to Raccoon dogs?   Indeed, how can Covid 19’s history even be traced back in time?
Many teams of scientists have been doing this and their weapon is the SWAB.   those little sticks with some fluff on the
tip.  Thousands and thousands of these swabs have been used to ‘wipe down’ suspected concentrations of the Covid 19
virus…a virus so small that it can only be seen through electron microscopes.


THE WUHAN MARKET PLACE, WUHAN CITY, CHINA




January 1, 2020, The Wuhan Police shut down the Wuhan Market.  Guards prevent entry. 

There are 11 million people living in Wuhan!  I had never heard of the place until the global pandemic arrived.  And the scourge arrived
with the speed of summer lightning.   On Feb 29, 2020 I was guest speaker at a meeting in Mississauga.   My subject was Invasive 
species and the Great Lakes.   We had an audience of 100 people at the Stonehooker Brewey in the City of Mississauga..
Covic 19 was not on my list of invasive species.  Not that day.  But the next day  March 1, 2020, Covid 19 was on the tip
of everyone’s tongue.  The virus had become a pandemic which spread around the world between December, 2019 and
March 2020.   The Grim Reaper followed.

World Health  scientists,  Chinese national health scientists,  Independent scientists have swabbed the Wuhan market
from floor to table height….from cage to cage searching for concentrations or even evidence of the presence of
the Coronavirus.  

They found one corner of the market…a tiny corner where once stood several live animal cages holding
two racoon dog cages and a fox cage.  the rest of the huge market was blank…no sign of Covid 19 but
this corner was dense with contaminated swabs.

And one table was loaded with evidence….that table may have been the table where one or perhaps
both of the raccoon dogs wee slaughtered and their wild meat carried away to contaminate the whole of
planet earth.

There is now almost total agreement that these two raccoon dogs provided the Intermediate link between
the Horseshoe bats who carried the virus and the transfer of the virus to the first few humans.

(There remains the possibility, remote though it be,  that some human carrier brought the virus
to the market and gave the Covid 19 to the racoon dogs instead of the other way around.
This is a one in a thousand possibility.)




CASE OF ALAN SKEOCH…HOW DID ALAN GET THE VIRUS?



We did the Covid Test twice and each time I got the red line…..positive test for Covid 19




“AT 5 P.M. on Oct. 13, 2020,  I stepped out of my dentists office with a new root canal.
I felt good.  Some pain which I was sure would diminish.  Instead of getting into the car
right away, I turned left nd walked about 100 yards to the Salvation Army Thrift Store 
to look at there book collection and perhaps buy a couple. Passed three very down at the heal
man on the way   Then I got in the car
and drove home.    

Did someone cough passing me in those hundred feet and a droplet got ingested?
Was my mask ineffective?   Had persons with Covid 19 been handling the 
books before me?   

I was contaminated but did not know it.  How?

I have no idea.   I did not know that I Had been contaminated with  Covid 19 until
October 18 when my dentist wondered at  my prolonged sickness after surgeryd, “Is there a chance you have Covid 19?”

“Let’s see … we have the test kit.”
“Cn’t see how I can have picked up Covid 19?”
“That is probably what most infected people say.”

“You know what else people say?”
“They think those Raccoon dogs are really cute”
“Turns out they are not cute at al….they are carriers of disease.”




 The Covid 19 virus seems to have originated as living material in Horseshoe  
bats living in wild properties north and west of Wuhann, China.  No danger unless  
doing scientific work in a bat cave stumbling on the bat excrement, perhaps toaching live bats.  
Rare.  But Chinese scientists were, at the time studying these pats and the diseases they
carried.  

What was needed was to find an Intermediate carrier of Covid 19, a creature that might have more direct contact
with humans.




1,149 Raccoon Dog Stock Photos, Pictures & Royalty-Free ...

NOTES FROM VARIOUS SOURCES

Background

HORSESHOE BATS  and PIPISTRELLE BATS

THE carriers of the Covid 19 viruses.

“Among all the known creatures, the bats are rich in various viruses inside. You can find most viruses responsible for human diseases like rabies, SARS, and Ebola,” Tian Junhua, a Wuhan CDC (Centre for 

Disease Control) researcher, says in the video. “It is while discovering new viruses that we are most at risk of infection

Bats, with extensive geographical distribution and capability of flight, constitute the second largest group of mammalian species and have been documented as natural hosts of a large number of diverse viruses such as lyssaviruses, paramyxoviruses and filoviruses [1, 2]. In the past decade, numerous novel coronaviruses have been discovered in a wide variety of bat species throughout Asia, Europe, Africa and America [3]. Within the coronavirus genera Alphacoronavirus and Betacoronavirus, which mainly infect mammals, 7 out of the 15 currently assigned viral species have only been found in bats [4]. It is proposed that bats are major hosts for alphacoronaviruses and betacoronaviruses and play an important role as the gene source in the evolution of these two coronavirus genera [5]. Among the coronaviruses harbored by bats, some have drawn particular research interests, as they have been found to be associated with two high profile human disease outbreaks, Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome (SARS) and Middle East Respiratory Syndrome (MERS).


There are way more species of horseshoe bats | EurekAlert!






Scientists have released three studies that reveal intriguing new clues about how the COVID-19 pandemic started. Two of the reports trace the outbreak back to a massive market that sold live animals, among other goods, in Wuhan, China1,2, and a third suggests that the coronavirus SARS-CoV-2 spilled over from animals — possibly those sold at the market — to humans at least twice in November or December 20193. Posted on 25 and 26 February, all three are preprints, and so have not been published in a peer-reviewed journal.

These analyses add weight to original suspicions that the pandemic began at the Huanan Seafood Wholesale Market, which many of the people who were infected earliest with SARS-CoV-2 had visited. The preprints contain genetic analyses of coronavirus samples collected from the market and from people infected in December 2019 and January 2020, as well as geolocation analyses connecting many of the samples to a section of the market where live animals were sold. Taken together, these lines of evidence point towards the market as the source of the outbreak — a situation akin to that seen in the epidemic of severe acute respiratory syndrome (SARS) in 2002–04, for which animal markets were found to be ground zero — says Kristian Andersen, a virologist at the Scripps Research Institute in La Jolla, California, and an author on two of the reports. “This is extremely strong evidence,” he says.


However, none of the studies contains definitive evidence about what type of animal might have harboured the virus before it spread to humans. Andersen speculates that the culprits could be raccoon dogs, squat dog-like mammals used for food and their fur in China. One of the studies he co-authored2 suggests that raccoon dogs were sold in a section of the market where several positive samples were collected. And reports4 show that the animals can harbour other types of coronavirus.

Nevertheless, some virologists say that the new evidence pointing to the Huanan market doesn’t rule out an alternative hypothesis. They say that the market could just have been the location of a massive amplifying event, in which an infected person spread the virus to many other people, rather than the site of the original spillover.

“Analysis-wise, this is excellent work, but it remains open to interpretation,” says Vincent Munster, a virologist at the Rocky Mountain Laboratories, a division of the National Institutes of Health in Hamilton, Montana. He says that searching for SARS-CoV-2 and antibodies against it in blood samples collected from animals sold at the market, and from people who sold animals at the market, could provide more-definitive evidence of COVID-19’s origins. The number of positive samples from the market does suggest an animal source, Munster says. But he is frustrated that more-thorough investigations haven’t already been conducted: “We are talking about a pandemic that has upended the lives of so many people.”

Ground zero?

In early January 2020, Chinese authorities identified the Huanan market as a potential source of a viral outbreak because most people infected with COVID-19 at that time had been there in the days before they began to show symptoms, or were in contact with people who had been. Hoping to stem the outbreak, the authorities closed the market. Researchers then collected samples from poultry, snakes, badgers, giant salamanders, Siamese crocodiles and other animals sold there. They also swabbed drains, cages, toilets and vendors’ stalls in search of the pathogen. Following an investigation led by the World Health Organization (WHO), researchers released a report in March 2021 showing that all of the nearly 200 samples collected directly from animals were negative, but that around 1,000 environmental samples from the stalls and other areas of the market were positive.

A team in China including researchers at China’s Center for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) has now sequenced genetic material recovered from those positive samples, and released the results in a preprint posted on 25 February1. The scientists confirm that the samples contain SARS-CoV-2 sequences almost identical to those that have been circulating in humans. Furthermore, they show that the two original virus lineages circulating at the start of the pandemic, called A and B, were both present at the market.

“It’s a nice piece of work,” says Ray Yip, an epidemiologist and a former director of the China branch of the US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. “They’ve confirmed that the Huanan market was indeed a very important spreading location.”

As soon as the report from China had been posted online, Andersen and his colleagues rushed to post manuscripts they had been working on for weeks.

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EPISODE 660 MY BUNMAHON DIARY, IRELAND 1960, PART ONE

EPISODE 660     MY BUNMAHON DIARY, IRELAND 1960

NOTE: SOME OVERLAP …BUT THIS WAS THE ORIGINAL, WHERE MY NERVOUSNESS WAS CONFESSED.

POSTED ON BY TERRAVIVA

THE UNFORGETTABLE SUMMER OF 1960…BUNMAHON (MAIN COPY PART ONE)

NOTE:  THIS IS  JUST A ROUGH INTRO TO BUNMAHON FROM MY OLD  JOURNAL…NEEDS TO BE POLISHED…HOPE MY BOSS DR. NORM PATTERSON
IS NOT OFFENDED.  WE HAD A LOT OF TROUBLE ON THIS JOB. THERE ARE LOTS OF TYPOS.


THE UNFORGETTABLE SUMMER OF 1960…BUNMAHON


alan skeoch
May 2019


Flying in to Ireland in 1960 was like flying back into time.  Wonderful…spellbinding.
This  piece  of the story covers  my first month on the job in the tiny village
of Bunmahon.   it was not always a village. At one point in the 19th cetury the 
population exceeded 2,000.  In 1960, when we arrived the population was 200 at 
best and  likely less than that,  Many were unemployed  and glad to see us.
There was high hope that the ancient copper mine could  be reopened.  Our
survey would help make that decision.






Tuesday June 14, 1960



At last our crates  of equipment have arrived in Bunmahon.  Long trip by rail then ship  to Liverpool, then trans shipped
to Dublin and finally put on train to Waterford  then by truck to Bunmahon.  That trip took nearly a  month, two weeks
of which I spent in Dublin trying to expedite things.  No matter. No surprise really.  The good thing is that  we are now ready
to get the survey underway which means the pressure on me will increase exponentially.   I think I am ready.






HISTORY OF KNOCKMAHON COPPER MINE and TANKARDSTOWN COPPER MINE, BUNMAHON, COUNTY WATERFORD, IRELAND

Once upon a time there were two big mines here.
The Knockmahon abandoned mine site does not look as dramatic as  Tankardstown with its stone ruins stand high above the cliffs that far the Atlantic Ocean in
County Waterford, Ireland.   Copper stained these cliffs for centuries so even the  most ancient Irish  people  were aware that there was
something different about the place.  Mining began  in  earnest at the Knockmahon site in the1820’s reaching peak production in 1840 
 the copper seams were exhausted unless the miners decided  to tunnel under the sea.  A new mine was  found nearby at Tankardstown
which thrived through the 1850;s when copper prices were initially high and then began to fall.  In 1879 the Tankardstown mine was 
abandoned.   In the glory days there were more than 2000 men using picks and  shovels and blasting powder to make a near starvation
living wresting copper from the depths.  Some of their passageways  and  stopes extended far out beneath the sea.  (*Later I would get
a chance to crawl on my stomach through these old mine adits and  shafts.  Stupid and dangerous but I was young and foolish.)

The rise and fall of the two mines occurred at the same time as the Great Potato Famine of the mid to late 1840’s.  Where  did all these
miners go?  Most were  present among the starving Irish families  who risked  their lives  on the immigrant ships  crossing the Atlantic  to 
Canada and the United States.

Today, in 2019, the whole 25 kilometres coast from Tramore to Bunmahon is a  walking trail and road  designed to attract tourists
Called the COPPER  COAST.

THE  1960 RECONSIDERATION OF THE IRISH  COPPER COAST

Copper prices  jumped in 1960 largely due to a crisis in Africa where political instability threaened
the world  supply of copper.   Big mining companies began to look elsewhere.   Denison Mines  decided 
to give another look at these two old  Irish  copper mines.  Had the mother load been missed?
Were there still rich copper seams to be exploited?



JOURNAL ENTRIES OF ALAN SKEOCH, AGE 21, INSTRUMENT MAN

TUESDAY JUNE 14, 1960

I guess I am nervous because I spent a terrible night in my new bed,  Body began twitching.  Nervousness
I imagine.  Much is  expected of me.  Hope I can  deliver. Got up and wrote letter to Marjorie. I should be fine
since I am now surrounded and I assume protected by quite  a  collection Roman Catholic icons. 
 My room is large but damn cold.  Meals
cooked by  Mrs. Kenneday are good.  Before we started  laying out our base line and getting things underway
we had to get our bearings so we went down to the sea, below the cliffs and then on top of the cliffs.  Then 
the three of us took a close look at the ruins of the old Tankardstown mine.  Several shafts. Dangerous.  One
shaft has been used as  a garbage site by local people.  Noticed a great pile of old glass milk bottles…antiques
but worth your life to retrieve them as they are on the edge of a great black hole.  The mine operated here
in the early to late 19th century…1870’s it seems to have been abandoned.  Must have been a big community
here at one time for locals say there were once 21 pubs and now there are only two.  Kerwin’s is the Catholic 
pub and therefore the most active…hub of the community it seems.  The other pub across the road is
Anglican in clientele.  Few people.  John Hogan very wisely spent several hours in Kerwin’s pub playing darts.
The place is dark and rather decrepit.  But the bar is fascinating.   Good to show the flag here as it were.
We  had a tremendous evening meal in our private dining room at Mrs. Kennedy’s.  That was followed  by
a religious discussion where I was odd man out.  Kept my mouth shut.  John Stam and John Hogan then
set up a game of pinochle.  Never played the game before but won all the same.  I no longer need  worry
about expense money as John Stam brought lots.  Wrote another letter to Marjorie.  I need some rough
clothes.  Lucky that Mrs. Kennedy also operate the only store in the village or in the region.  She sells
everything from clothes to cigarettes to hard goods and even food.  Her main floor store is big but very 
dark.   Business does not seem to be good.  Village empty most of the time.  Very little traffic on the
main road.  One man approached us  about a job.  He would  be the first of many.  Seems the villafge
is placing great hope in our work.

Wednesday June 15, 1960


The Kennedy family of Bunmahon made room for us in their sprawling house above. 
Mrs. Kennedy ran the only surviving store in Bunmahon which  was a combined dry goods,
hardware and limited  grocery store.  It was very dark inside indicating sales  were anything but brisk.




The Kenneday family made us  feel very welcome.  Their handicapped son Gerald was especially enthused  about
our arrival and he would have willingly followed me into the hills and galleys had not Mrs. Kennedy interfered.  She
was the boss…not only of the  family but also the leading matriarch of the whole community.   Mr. Kennedy was
a genial man who loved his large farming operation.  Their daughter was shy but very happy to have us as tenants
in rooms  that were abandoned most of the time.


Woke up and got dressed early.  Everyone else asleep.  Nice Irish Breakfast with all the trimmings
including fried  tomatoes and Irish back bacon (like a steak).  The house is really a row of houses
all  linked together and  lived in by the Kennedy family.  Sort of reminded me of Charles Dickens
house where Miss Havisham lived her solitary magic life…A house that Time forgot filled with spider webs and very musty and sad…
 but that is an unfair comparison for the Kennedy house is very
much alive.  Damp and dark though.  

Now facing the big test.  I am supposed to be a veteran instrument man who has worked for HUNTEC
for some time.  In other words  I bloody well seem to know what I am doing.  Got the Ronka E.M. unit
and took it to the old stage road for a test.  I remembered much about it but took time to read and re-read
the manual just in case I made a mistake.   When all seemed  correct I switched  it on and the  damn ‘in phase’
did not register nor did  the ‘out phase’.  Tested again and  again on 60 odd stations at 50’ separation.
Gave up finally. Then visited the little lumber mill and bought 1,000 stskrd got 5 pound.  Needed to mark
stations when things get working.  Then I spent the afternoon playing around with the Ronka.  Worried.
Finally…miracle of miracles…I got the thing working.  Amazed at myself.  We are trying to keep John
Hogan unaware of my ignorance.  Must Speak a kind  of pseudo professional mumbo jumbo.  

I expect to be here well into the month of August.  Played  pinochle all evening.  Great meals.
We drew up a grid for our test survey using the Turam as opposed to the Ronka.  But the Turam has
not arrived.  It is the backbone of the job.   Bill Morrison taught me how to set it up and operate it
on the Alaska job last summer.  My memory is pretty good…not perfect…but good.

Went down the sea for a few minutes.  Weather is changing and some huge waves are
crashing into the stony beach.  There is  a huge iron ball on the beach.  A reminder of World War II
…a decommissioned floating mine about the size of a small car.  Holes now evident where once
the detonators were.

Thursday, June 16, 1960

Heavy fog this morning.  John and John planned  to attend a special mass being held  for them but
heavy fog was a problem. The Fiat car would not start anyway.  I cannot understand why a special
mass was being done for John and John.   Obviously they know I am a Protestant and are therefore left
out which is fine by me.  Seems to make me the only Protestant in the village…but that does not seem
to be a problem so far.  Took the Ronka out for the whole day…62 stations, 3 lines, dual  frequency. We
came across a  number of old mine shafts…perhaps  air adits…will have to be careful as little warning, false
step and down we go…lucky there is a cable joining the Ronka hoops at 50 or 100 foot separation.  Fall in
a shaft and hang there until partner pulls me out.  Bad joke.  Now that
is more of a joke than anything else but the open shafts  do  exist.  

Hard to believe how cold Ireland is in June.  Should have packed heavy clothes.  Shivering. But the land
is beautiful with wild poppies blooming in the lush green fields and stone fencerows.  Donkeys, horses, pigs 
and  cattle. Really old Ireland, some of the buildings even have thatch grooves while others have no rooves
at all…derelict cottages testify that the population is shrinking.   Hundreds of miners, many of them from
The copper mines in Cornwall, left Ireland  when the rich copper seams could no longer be found.  Became
miners  in Montana and Canada.  

This is the Mahon River that flowed from the hills deep in the interior.   

Bunmanhon has two churches…Catholic and Anglican…but only one is ;used…i.e. the Catholic Church
 The Anglican church  was abandoned and is  now cemented at the doors and windows. Mrs. Kennedy
regaled  us with stories of a  local authoress who wrote ‘dirty’ stories about Ireland. The books  are now banned
here in  Bunmahon.  The priest has burned  any he finds.  Our ears perked up at this story so we will
keep our eyes  open for dirty books as we assume they concern sex.  Then again the books could be about
politics  which is  less interesting.  

Now  that we have settled into the village the local men are approaching us for jobs.  We will do some hiring
of course.  I will need someone to help me get through the brier fences…thousands  of sharp needles have
already ripped my shirt and punctured my skin.   I saw a badger today…seems  bunch of them have burrow
in a  brier patch.  After we plotted the results John and john got the pinochle  game ready. Hogan told the
funny biblical story about Jacob tying his ass to a tree then walking three miles into Jerusalem…:That’s
stretching it,” he concluded.  We get silly at times which is a very good sign.  Maybe I will  not need
to keep up the bluff that I am a very experienced field man and let John Hogan know i learned how to
run the Turam last summer on the barren lands  of Western Alaska.  That would make it easier on me.

Friday, June 17, 1960

Got up with the sun and  wrote letters then heard Mrs. Kennedy getting breakfast ready downstairs.  Beautiful
day today…warm, sunshine.  Today was spent setting up stakes on our new  survey lines.  Pickets every
hundred feet on the lines running at right angles from our base line which is one long line of  shielded  copper
wire grunded at both ends with iron rods and hooked to our motor generator.  We pump electricity into the
ground in search of possible mineral conductors.  Seems weird but it works.

Sounds like an  easy job putting in pickets every hundred  feet on our survey lines.  I thought it would ve a
piece of cake compared with doing so in the Canadian boreal forest with its thick btush and  millions  of biting
insects of varying sizes but all on a blood diet.  Not so fast, Alan.  Problems  here as well.  I fell headlong
into a six foot wide gulley of brier.  Did not see the dip and  in a  microsecond  I ripped  pants and skin and
lay there with the brier needles  all  around.  Dared  not move for a few minutes  so spent the time swearing
using fine sentences taught to us by our dad…”Goddamn son of a bitching bastardly brier,” etc. etc.  Not sure
if  Irish swear like that.  Slowly and carefully I moved backwards  and snaked  my way out of the needle trap.

“These  gorse bushes are trouble…big time trouble, John.”
“Why?”
“The are impenetrable.”
“No worse than a cedar and tag alder swamp in Canada.”
“Far far worse…each branch  of gorse is covered with needles…rip my clothes and puncture my skin.”
and to make matters worse the damn gorse lines these tiny Irish farm fields. Today I could not get
through from one field to the other without shedding blood.”
“Surely we can cut holes with axes or machetes.”
“Can be done but it will be difficult and slow. And then there is going to be another problem…the stone
fences under the gorse.    How will I be able to climb these fences when strapped to the Turam console,
receiving coil and battery pack…ear phones  and field notebook as well.”
“What do  you suggest?”
“I suggest we hire a man to help me get over the fences.”
“There going to laugh at you back in Canada.”
“More worried that Norm would see me as a bit of a baby.”



“Nothing worse than gorse in your pants  and shirts…needles  that could reach through almost
any material to make a person bleed.  Hence gorse made excellent fences.  In May and June
the gorse is deceptively beautiful.”



WHEREVER we experienced beautiful yellow flowers in June we also found thousands a stiff sharp needles  capable of
penetrating clothes, boots and flesh.  Good and evil on the same branch.



Saturday June 18  1960


Both E.M. units, the Ronka and the Turam, are designed to pick up signals from  an artificial electrical impulse forced into the ground
by s motor generator attached to a base line of yellow shielded copper wire.   Barney Dwan (above) is setting down this three mile long
strand of  wire across an open field section.   Our ‘lines’ were set out at right angles on both sides of  this base line.   NOTE: We 
had big problems with this yellow wire base line…BIG PROBLEMS. In Alaska I had a roll like this strapped to my back once when jumping
from the helicopter pontoon to the cabin as we took off.  I did not make it but fell between pontoon and cabin as we lifted.  Unhurt because
of the melted  bed of sloppy summer muskeg above the permafrost.  Our problem with the wire in Ireland was much different.  WHAT PROBLEM?
You will see.

Saturday June 18, 1960


Base Line #2 North west 30,
Up a little late….8 a.m….on job at nine, worked until three extending the base line from 2400 to 7600feet over some very rough patches of brier (gorse) and
nettles.  Lots  of cattle in  the small  fields which could be a problem if they get curious about our yellow electric base line cable.  John Hogan joined me in
the field as  he is quite curious about the project naturally.  Had lunch in the pub…2 shilling bottle of corona (apple cider…hard kind) Then back to our rooms
took a bath, washed clothes then we drove to Tramore for a game of miniature golf on the strand after which we found a pub for 3 beers and a five course supper
(12 shilling, 6 pence) then carried  on to Waterford for a glass of creme de menthe and the movie ‘Carry On Nurse’.  Wish there was more to do other than drinking
and pinochle in evenings.  Must keep client happy however and John Hogan does love touring and socializing.  An  easy life except when doing the dirty work
crawling through gorse fences and bleeding.   Saturday is a day of rest in the normal world.  It has never been such doing Geophysical surveying…seven day week.
But 7 day week does not work here in Ireland.

Sunday June 19, 1960

Bridey woke me.  Who is Bridey?  She is our caregiver…gets  us up in mornings, makes our beds, and  supervises our spiritual lives.  Today she entered
my room and hauled off my covers commenting, “Time for Mass, Master Skeoch…out of bed.”  I am not sure if she knew I was Protesant or not.  Did not matter
 to Bridey for she was determined I go to mass, perhaps to make me into a better person.  That posed a dilemma.Should I conform and go to mass or should
I just take the opportunity to sleep in on Sundays?   I chose mass…with Bridey’s encouragement.  Glad I did as our presence at Sunday mass made us part
of the Bunmahon community.  John Stam and John Hogan are both Catholic.  Spent the afternoon writing and playing pinochle then we went down to Kirwinn’s
pub where the village drinkers gather.  Only stayed  briefly as I decided to take a long walk along the cliff footpath above the ocean. Looked  down upon that 
huge cast iron land mine on Bunmahon beech.  Reminder of World War II..  Later in the evening I quizzed Mrs. Kenneday about Dunhill Castle. “Stormed by
Cromwell,” she said.  Then she casually mentioned that a previous Canadian mining crew (McPhare Group) set a bad reputation for Canadians.  The inference
was that they did not go to church and raised  hell in the evenings.

It was only 15 years earlier that floating mines like this were floating submerged along the Irish coast.  

“When Mrs. Kenneday found out I was Presbyterian she commented “the new bridge over the Mahon River was built by a Presbyterian” .  John Hogan respnded
“Christ, that bridge will never last long.”  

Sad to see so many local people spending all their money in the pub.  None of the Kennedy family go to the pub though so there must be others who avoid
drinking.  Perhaps the expression that Guiness is a “meal in a glass” makes  sense.  Someone told 
us a local joke about a visitor to ireland asking: “When do the pubs close?” “September, I think.”

Monday June 20, 1960

Rose early…beautiful sunny day. Did 12,000 feet of line with John Stam and our Irish employees (Bandy, John and Larry).  The going is very slow…obstructions
everywhere, especially those gorse covered stone fences.  Nightmare. Used the Brunton Compass to try and keep lines straight.  Worked steadily with just 20
minutes for a fast lunch.  Returned to Bunmahon at 6 p.m.  Letter from Arbuckle arrived saying the Turam E.M. unit would arrive tomorrow.  About time as the
Turam is our key unit.  The Ronka is our back up. Stopped at Kirwan’s pub for a beer then home to Mrs. Kennedy’s for a grand supper.  Did some writing before
going back to the pub where I was shown a collection of old weapons, some from “the time of the trouble”, an” expression meaning the 1920’s and gaining of
Irish Home Rule.  Just as I was looking at the weapons a gentleman arrived  with a shotgun and his hunting dog.  Dressed like a lord.  The dog befriended me
although the hunter said “that was not his habit.”  Four girls seem to congregate in front of the house each evening.  Seems vain to say but they seem to be
interested in me.  Played another game of pinochle which is becoming very tedious.  I am really getting to enjoy the village life of Bunmahon which has a lot
of similarities  to the John Wayne and Maureen Ohara film ‘The Quiet Man’ even down to the friendly toleration of a Church of Ireland (Anglican) minority who 
visited the pub across the road from Kirwin’s. (seemed empty most of the time though).

Tuesday June 21, 1960

Today we drove to Waterford to get the Turam.  We?  Hired the local owners of Kirwan’s pub (Frank and Kevin) and their aged Ford truck.  All was ready and soon
loaded then we retired to a local pub where I bought the boys a  glass of Guinness and lunch.  Quite a different atmosphere in this pub…very political…had to be very careful
cautioned Kevin and Frank.  Sort of interesting.  No smart remarks.  We drove back to Bunmahon and began unpacking while cleaning up the Kennedy garden shed
which would be our workshop and paymaster shop.  Hired two men…Andy Kirwan who is very shy and will not talk unless forced to do so and Tom Powell who talks a
lot…perhaps too much.  John came back and assisted another man to coil 15,000 feet of shielded  copper wire.  All set for tomorrow with the Turam.  It has been a long wait.
Tried a new drink called a shandy…ale and  lemonade…probably I will stick to Guinness as most do.  Nice to have clean clothes to wear thanks to mrs. Kennedy and Bridey.

Wednesday June 22, 1960

Wrote home then packed cable on the back reel for our first Turam baseline of 14,500 feet…nearly three miles. Very rough going.  We set up our generator base down by the
Atlantic Ocean.  Cranked motor…held my breath.  It would not start.  Gas was  wrong…put in regular gas and the motor purred. I know that sounds simple but it was not so
simple.  I was  supposed to be the expert on the Turam but I had no idea what was  wrong and just changed the gas on impulse.  Floyd told me years ago that all problems are
usually simple to solve.  “Al, do not make things difficult.”   Floyd was my first real wilderness scholar and teacher back in Canada.  He nicknamed me Fucking Al for some 
twisted reason.  It was not used as a hateful term. I think he liked me.  Maybe he spoke in opposites.




We hired two new men, Andy and Tom.  Today I saw my first Irish hare…big speedy creature.  At night John Stsm and John Hogan got into a religious discussion with me.  I am
not really up to speed on religion…never will be…although I stood my ground as a Protestant and they took theirs.  No hostility.  Very Canadian.  I think most Canadians  are
really Humanists.   Then we got down to another serious game of pinochle.  I would rather be out walking the cliff trails at sunset.

Thursday June 23, 196-0

Now our real troubles began.  Started the motor generator but not generating.   Took a long time to figure out why.  Again the problem was simple…the base line
wire was broken in three places along one thousand foot stretch.  Some creatures had nibbled…foxes? rabbits?  Simple to repair.  Looks like we  will spend hours
and hours repairing our base line each day.  Did not know which  creature was doing the damage but as usual it was simple and should have been obvious right from
the start.  The fields had herds of cattle.  Cattle like to munch grass but they also liked to munch yellow copper cables.


Three of our employees are resting after lunch.  Bandy, on the right, became my right hand man.  We were good friends in not time
and he shared some wonderful adventures with me.  More of that later.  Behind the men are the cattle…peacefully chewing up ou
grounded cable.  Then ruminating and vomitting balls of copper wire about the size of baseballs.


 the Turam operated perfectly on 660 cox frequency so the rest of the day was a success. We had data for Dr. Stam at last.  Began training more men as instrument 
helpers.  I was surprised to discover that one our new men, Willy, could not count.  He never said so.  Wish he had as that would have made my job easier.   I would not have asked
him to mark the pickets.  Larry on the other hand cannot hear which makes things difficult.  Not their faults.  All and all things went well today and we found two anomalies which
were plotted on graph paper in the evening.  Surveying in a country as old as Ireland brings lots of discoveries such as the stone bridge we found today covered in ivy but no
sign of ever been connected to a road network.

Got a long letter from Marjorie.  She is a wonderful writer…better than me for sure.  She seems to be enjoying herself back in Canada.

John Hogan and I went down to Kirwan’s for cider and the owner bought us each a pint of Guinness.

There is an old black Labrador dog that belongs to the Kennedy’s and has a special job.  He is trained to keep Gerald from drowning in the sea.   Gerald is Mrs. Kennedy’s disabled son.
Mongoloid little boy who is sure friendly and good natured although severely handicapped.  When he strolls down to the sea the Labrador dog goes  with him.  He is allowed to wade
a bit but never deeper than his ankles before he is pushed back out of the water by the dog.  

Friday June 24, 1960

New gas for the generator.  Expected a fine day with lots of distance covered.  That did not happen as a serious of small disasters tumbled out.  First, the cable was broken in three
places none of them close…had to cover 8,000 feet to find them.  Second, something wrong with the gas again.  Suspect water got in somehow as rain is regular occurrence.  Third,
there were two broken instrument cables and some kind of short circuit.  Fourth, the motor itself broke down once we got clean gas. Why?  Fifth, another  cable broke just as we
finally got started.  Suspect cattle.  Solution is to hire a man to walk the cable each day and make repairs.  Even with all thsse problems we managed to get 3,000 feet of survey line
completed.  

Good news when we got back to Bunmahon.  My university results arrived.  I passed.  I would like to have had higher marks but word I was getting that a number of my friends did
not pass.   John Hogan came back after a short visit to Killarney.  I think he rushed back just to play $%^%$ pinochle.

I made up the pay checks for our employees and they lined up outside the garden shed office.  Got cash through Mrs. Kenndy.  I bet the boys back in Canada are wondering why we need
so many men on the payroll.   I have an answer.  “The wages here are 1 pound per day…about $2.50 a day…so we can hire a lot of men for very little money and they need it badly otherwise
Kerwan’s pub will go bankrupt.”


Here is our crew, most of them, lining up on a Friday evening for their weekly pay.  John Hogan
is the man  on the left.  He  represented  our client Denison Mines.   Dr. John Stam is
our company geophysicist (far right).  His job was the most important for he would interpret
my survey results and write a report that would either support the idea of a new mine in 
Bunmahon or state there was nothing worth retrieving.

Payday in the Kennedy Garden Shed.  The wage was one pound per day…about $2.50
Canadian.  Not much really.  Some days the men  worked overtime though for more money.  And as
my job as paymaster proceeded I got a bit carried away and gave each man a
pack of cigarettes then added  a  chocolate bar.  Dr. Norm Paterson would be amused back in Canada
if he saw  this picture..which he will  never see..

“ALan, just who do  you think you are…some kind of philanthropist using other people’s money?”
“Right, I guess I made payday a  little excessive.”
“Where did you get the idea of adding cigarettes  and chocolate bars?”
“John Wayne!”
“Do you mean  you were beginning to think you were The Quiet Man?”
‘Suppose it looks that way.”
“What did they think  back in Toronto?”
“I think Norm Paterson…Dr. Paterson…used the term precocious applied to me.”
“And  Floyd?”
“He continued to call me Fucking Al.”

We became quite the community celebrities as the local police constable kept close eye on us as did
the local priest who was  often seen standing along the road as we crossed nd  criss-crossed.

Saturday June 25, 1960

“Why hire so many local people?”  The answer is not so simple.  I am not trying to run a charity on
Huntec money.  We need people that we never needed in Canada.  We need a  man to check our grounded 
cable and make repairs.  The cattle chew chunks regularly…must taint the milk a bit but they regurgitate
the balls as they ruminate.  A bigger worry is cattle biting into the live cable.  One farmer claimed a cow was
knocked down and out by the electric charge.  That my or may not be true but we want to assure the local farmers that
we are being careful.  The government of Ireland made me paint a danger sign in English and irish and place 
that sign where our generator is located.  We have hired a local handicapped boy to guard the motor generator site.
Then there is the problem of the fences and the gorse.  We need a man to help making a path and lifting me over
these places and there are many of them as the fields  are small.  We also need a linecutting crew of three men
to survey and mark with pickets the 50 and 100 foot spaces for readings to be taken. We are lucky that so many
men are available and willing.

This young handicapped lad just loved his job protecting our base line.  He set up his campsite wherever we moved
the motor generator and took his job very seriously.   The first job he ever had  and perhaps his  only job.  The other 
employees covered for him so that I  would not notice he was mentally handicapped.  I  knew.

Drove to check cable as usual with Bandy as helper.  Today I discovered his real name was  Barney Dwan but
the local  dialect was so hard for me to understand that “Barney” became “Bandy” much to the amusement of
everyone who started calling him Bandy.  I wondered  why the men laughed so much. 

The instrument failed again.  Wasted three hours trying to find the problem. Narrowed  it down to the amplifier which
I could not fix so gave the men half a day holiday while I took he Turam to Waterford for repairs   Very depressing.  Spent
some time in a Waterford  pub waiting then drove back west to Tramore for supper.  Saw  the movie “Sirrocco” after playing
a round of miniature golf with John Hogan who accompanied me on the trip.

We  were all startled at bed time when John Hogan found a tick buried  in his thigh.  Gorged in blood so the damn
thing looked big.  Got it out using a cigarette and careful work with tweezers.  Mickey offered  us his bicycle for our
use if we needed to get a doctor.  We slathered the wound with rubbing alcohol and hoped for the best. From now
on we will examine our bodies  after work as the area is infested  with ticks.  A close look at the cattle herds show that as
most of their noses have ticks hanging there like little sacks.




Ticks Were something new to me.  At first I dismissed them as creatures of no consequence to me personally for they
seemed associated with sheep.   Surely in Canada the hords of black flies, moose flies, deer flies,
mosquitoes and midges were far worse than ticks.   Ticks cannot fly and if  sheep or cattle or horses were carrying ticks I 
was unlikely to pick them up for petting domestic animals was not part of the job.

Ignorance is no excuse.  Irish  ticks may not fly but they do know how to leap from a  waving piece  of long  grass to
a piece of exposed flesh and then begin their burrowing and  do so  painlessly.  Once engorged with blood the female tick
just drops off and continues its’ life cycle.  It is possible to be a tick host and never know it.   Ticks are not themselves dangerous
The serous problems arise from the bacteria the tick transfers to the human or animal host.  Ireland in 1960 had  lots of ticks but
most were not too dangerous.  Hedghog ticks  were the most likely to grab us  as  we climbed over and t through gorse covered fencerows.

NOTE:  TODAY, 2019, Black Legged ticks are spreading through Ontario perhaps  aided by global warming.  These ticks  are
extremely dangerous for they transmit Lyme disease to humans. People die.

Sunday June 26,1960

An uneventful day.  Went to mass at the Ballyaneen RC church.  Then we played  pinochle until noon, had  nice lunch,  read 
part of  Forster’s Passage to India and dosed off until evening,  Repaired  cables and switches and then went to the dog
races where I lost three beers to John and John.

Monday June 27, 1960

Bandy (Barney) had  long ground  cable repaired from cow damage by 8 a.m.  Worried about Turam but took it out on wild
hope it would work but once again it let us down.  John Stam is very depressed and  even considering giviing up the contract.
So I took out the Ronka for the day.  On our first set up disaster happened when a car drove right between us tearing the 
connecting cable apart.  Could have dragged  us along the road if  cable had  not snapped. We made rough repairs  and continued. 
 At four p.m. the Ronka stopped working, likely the rough
connection reoair.  No matter because John Stam  arrived from Waterford with the newly refurbished Turam which  seems 
OK now.  

Andy offered to buy me a beer…very generous as his income is close to poverty level.  I bought a bottle of cider for John and  John
to drink at our pinochle game where, as  usual, we discussed religion.  I  was  surprised  to learn that Catholics actually believe
in Adam and  Eve.  Maybe they were putting me on. 

Got nice letters from Marjorie and Russ Vanstone.  Spent sleepless night worrying about the Turam.


Now here is an interesting  pair of photos.  On the left we are working across an Irish grain field in 1960 while
the right I am doing the same kind  of survey in Alaska in 1959



Tuesday June 28, 1960

Got up early and soldered some cable heads in our little shed.  What a beautiful  day and even the Turam seemed to notice
the sun on the irish greenery.  The Turam worked perfectly until noon when once again our cable was severed by some cow
located somewhere along the three mile base line.  Sure enough.  A cow had bitten the live wire and got knocked out.  “She
fell like a  stone!”  We are lucky that the local farmers have not launched law actions if we have been stunning or knocking out
their cattle.  I wonder if the knock out story is true?  The Irish  are good story tellers after all.  Some farmers are after us according
to my Irish crew who are not too concerned.  There seems to be a cultural division between the largely unemployed cottagers
and the distinctly better healed farmers.  They do not like each other.

John Stam is more cheerful today since our expense money arrived in Dungarven. My day was terrific because the Turam  worked
perfectly.  We crossed over some old mine shafts which  are hardly guarded or protected,  Some seem to be used as garbage pits.
“Some animals fall down them but not many…no worries.” Some comfort!  I did my washing in the evening, wrote home and 
as usual did some light repairs this time to the voltmeter connection.  Mrs Kennedy served us tea while we played yet another
game of pinochle.  Outside the night was stunning with Golden clouds and a crescent moon.  

How can  I say to John and  John that i am getting to hate pinochle.  Bunmahon is so interesting.  I would rather walk the cliffs 
and have a pint of Guinness  at Kerwan’s.  I would  like to have a pint at the Anglican pub but fear that would cause trouble.
It would be interesting to hear what the Anglo Irish minority have to say.  Perhaps they would say nothing.  Amazing how close
to the stereotypes created in the Quiet Man fit the local social dynamics of Bunmahon.  I am sure, however, that such a comment’
by a newcomer like me would be resented so I try to take everything in but keep my mouth shut.   The men seem to like me.

This is  Kirwan’s pub on every Friday evening when a percentage of income was  spent
on a few pints of Guinness.   We joined as often as we could.  Sometimes the fellows
wanted to treat us to pints of Guinness.  Without insulting we thanked them but
avoided these ‘free’ pints.    John Hogan is lighting up a Wild Woodbine cigarette on
the far left.  Mrs. Kerwan is presiding over the bar on the far right.



Kerwan’s pub has a  dark sitting room featuring slabs of pine nailed to the walls  and stumps tables.
In this case John Hogan and  I are relaxing.


Wednesday June  29, 1960

John Hogan took off early to drive to Dublin for some reason.  I had a successful day with the Turam finishing 2.5 lines in the morning
then Andy brought me a quart of Cidonia (hard cider) for lunch in an Irish field before finishing line 4400 and  finding a very large
anomaly.   Then the motor stopped and we had another two hour delay.

In the evening Willy and Bandy took me to a hurling match in Dunhill.  The game can be rough if they hit each other
with the curling sticks that look like shortened  hockey sticks.  Clubs if you will.  The outdoor washroom was  interesting.
A few sheets of corrugated iron were anchored  in place by steel posts and that was  a washroom.  I do not know what
women used.

Hurling is an Irish brute force kind of game.  










Thursday June 30, 1960

Got an early start today which was spoiled as usual by a broken base line cable.  We are now getting used to finding baseball
sized rolls of  our base line wire here and there in farmers fields.  Farmers are getting more and  more concerned that our wire is
endangering their dairy herds.We did 4 lines today working from 8.30 to 6.30.  A long day here in Ireland.  In Canada I would cover
much  more territory doing Turam work pushed on by the millions of flies f

Willy had to be sent home when his lumbago began acting up.  Then the console connection broke and had to be soldered.

Today we saw an old fort…2,000 years old according to Bandy.  “Supposed to be filled with fairies, you know.” “There are ghosts
in this valley.” “Then there is the mystery of the postman that just disappeared one day.”



Bandy alerted me to another danger today when we crossed a field dominated by two huge boars.  Big tusks and angry 
demeanour.  “Be careful with the herds  of pigs, Maser Skeoch, a nun disappeared around here once when she crossed
a field with pigs.  All that was found was her boots with her feet inside.”  The men love telling me stories.  Maybe some of the
stories are true or have a kernel of truth.   Enjoy them immensely.  Today we worked  until 7 p.m. and then I spent the evening
trying to fix the Ronka with no luck.   The men are all good workers and I hate pushing them but we are expecting Holmes to
arrive any day from India.  He is a top man with the company.  Needs to be impressed.   Tired tonight…”Too tired to 
climb the stairs,” as my grandmother used to sing to us on winer evenings at the farm.

Small thatched  roof cottages  were located here and  there on the outskirts of Bunmahon.  Small  holdings
of an acre or less.  Some of these cottages turned most of their land over to potatoes.  Others  managed
to keep a few animals, even a  horse or two.


Friday July 1, 1960

“Mass! Master Skeoch get out of bed…time for mass.”  Bridey hammers on my door then enters the room
and rips of my covers  reminding me all the time that  I must not miss mass.  She even carries a BELL that 
she rings with gusto.if I am not out of bed fast.   Lucky I wear in a bIg night shirt because Bridey  
rips off the blankets to speed me up.  Mass is very important to Bridey and she  has made mass feel
important to me…a Protestant…a  Humanist.

Quite amusing…nice really.

STOP FOR A REST


END OF THE INTRODUCTION TO BUNMAHON…LOTS MORE TO COME
SUCH AS AN INTRODUCTON TO THE BOYS WHO  MADE THE SURVEY 
SUCCESSFULL.

AND THEN THE PRIZE OF PRIZES WHEN BARNEY SUGGESTED “MASER SKEOCH
DO YOU WANT TO GO UNDERGROUND IN THE OLD MINES….I KNOW THE SECRET
ENTRANCES.”

alan  skeoch
May 2019

Posted on

EPISODE 659 “MARJORIE ! HELP ME OFF THE BATHROOM FLOOR”



On Oct 17, 2022, at 10:58 AM, ALAN SKEOCH <alan.skeoch@rogers.com> wrote:


EPISODE 659    “MARJORIE !  HELP ME GET OFF THE BATHROOM FLOOR”


alan skeoch
Oct. 16,2022




<IMG_2189.jpg>

“Marjorie!   need help!  Slipped and fell on bathroom floor.  My good leg is under the bathtub.”
“Use your arms”
“Too weak..useless”
“What happened?”
“Just about got out of the bathtub.  Floor mat must have slipped and I tumbled.”
“Hurt?”
“No but trapped.  Arms and legs useless.  My good right leg under the tub.”
“Must be the antibiotic.”

HOW DID IT COME TO THIS….SPLAYED NUDE ON THE BATHROOM FLOOR?

Started with a chipped tooth. Seemed minor problem just needed a filling,  Then my 
dentist said he should take an Xray to check for infection.

“Infection under the tooth’
“Choice?”
“Extraction will affect your appearance.”
“Other option?”
“Root Canal”
“Can you do the root canal now”
“Yes”

Seemed a good idea.  Vanity trumped extraction.  Two hours later it was done and seemed OK.
Some pain and sponginess but that would pass for sure.  Surely.  Well, it did not work and the  pain
increased.  Bearable but present.   

What followed were two nights watching the clock move slowly, minute by minute, hour by hour….
until daybreak.’

My dentist phoned to see how I was even on his day off.  

“Not good…tooth seems wobbly….cannot eat….cannot sleep…pull the bastard.
“Let me get you an antibiotic to kill the infection.”
“Is it dangerous?”
“Common.  Amoxicillin’

GOD that stuff is strong.  Three pills with food, three time a day. Pretty well knocked me
out.  So I spent the next two days in bed.  Scrambling occasionally to the washroom.
I did not realize how weak I was getting until I fell to the floor on one trip to the washroom.
Hard to get up which was strange.  

“what you need is a good hot bath.”
“Pain in my mouth has diminished.  Can eat soft food… like soup.”
“Fine.  You have a shower and I’ll get some easy food.  Want Jello?”
“yes.”
“Better to take a shower other than a bath.”
“Love my bathtub…to hell with the shower.”

So I crawled carefully from bed to bathroom.  Stripped and gingerly slid into our cast iron
bathtub. Felt good.   But I was really weak.  And now a bad head cold began.  Damn
head cold!  Just waiting to get me when i could not fight back.  

“Don’t get out of the tub until I am there.”
“I’ll be fine.”  What did Marjorie think I was..some kind of pansy?
Placed both hands on the bathtub rim and lifted.  Got up a little but arms failed me 
and I fell back.  Tried again and again until I was up.  Both arms and legs were 
failing me when I needed them most.  Bastards!

Got one leg out of the tub.  Then moved the other.  Not sure what happened next.
Did the bathmat slip ?  Or did my legs and arms refuse to help me?  Perhaps both.
So there i was flat on the bathroom floor with one leg under the tub and calling
for Marjorie.

“Marjorie, I fell.”





<IMG_2194.jpg>
Try putting an imaginary body between the tub and the door…one had to be moved
for Marjorie to Wedge her way into the bathroom where she found a stark
nude husband in grave difficulty on the floor. Only the nude was movable. Maybe.

“Can’t get the door open.  You are in the way.”
“Maybe I can slide over a bit.  There.  Can you help me up?”

She tried and tried but no luck. I weigh 215 pounds stark naked.  My arms refused
to let me drag my leg from under the tub.  I really did not care that I was naked. Just
wanted to get back to bed if possible.

“Let me get a chair for you to grip. “
“No good”
“Sit on it…keep it steady.  No strength in my arms.”
Inch by inch I moved but not enough.  Finally  I could get my arms
around the toilet bowl.   It was imovable.  Just what I needed to
help me drag my good leg from beneath the tub.  Hands and knees now
but the sons of bitches would not help me.  Marjorie pushed and pulled.



<IMG_2191.JPG>


“Try crawling on hands and knees to the bedroom. “
“Can’t .  No strength.  Let me use the toilet bowl now to lever myself up.
There, standing but wobbly.  Just enough strength to make it to the bed,”

The goddamn head cold was gaining on me.  Fever.  But 
my mouth pain had diminished to almost nothing.  Jello and not much else but
had to eat something according to the label on the antibiotic container.
Soup.  Mary brought over her home made chicken broth.  Her husband was in
bed with the same cold. Molly sent muffins.  


How many other enemies will try to get me now?

Just the thought of getting to the bathroom again was a nightmare.  But I did
it.   Drank so much water that my kidneys must have been floating.  Inch by inch
made the way to the toilet bowl which I now considered a saviour .

What would have happened if I was alone.?  NO Marjorie to help me. ‘Alone, alone
all all alone’ on the bathroom floor.  That must happened to lots pf  people,  Hopefully
they had the emergency necklace and can get a burly fireman to lift them
back to bed.  I have Marjorie and the toilet bowl who did the job.

“Alan, Oct, 16, 2022, that is your birthday.”

“And that is how I spent by 84th year on planet Earth.

alan skeoch
Oct. 16, 2022

P.S.   My dentist phoned every day.   He was concerned.  “Can you come in
on Monday .  Just to get some X-rays to see if there is any other infection.”
“No, can’t. Otherwise I will just spread this head cold to everyone.  Others
do not need to share my pain”  

That sounds very noble of me.  But really means nothing because I wrote
this story just to ensure all readers shared my pait.  Hardly a noble act.



Posted on

EPISODE 658 HUMBERSIDE DISC JOCKEY and HANK WILLIAMS

EPISODE 658    HUMBERSIDE DISC JOCKEY AND HANK WILLIAMS


alan skeoch
Oct. 13, 2022

We Can't Quit You, Hank Williams | The New Yorker
HANK WILIAMS
Your cheatin’ heart will make you weepYou’ll cry and cry and try to sleepBut sleep won’t comeThe whole night throughYour cheatin’ heart will tell on you
When tears come down like fallin’ rainYou’ll toss around and call my nameYou’ll walk the floor the way I doYour cheatin’ heart will tell on you
Your cheatin’ heart will pine somedayAnd crave the love you threw awayThe time will come when you’ll be blueYour cheatin’ heart will tell on you
When tears come down like fallin’ rainYou’ll toss around and call my nameYou’ll walk the floor the way I doYour cheatin’ heart will tell on you


IT BEGAN AS A P.A. ANNOUNCEMENT AT HUMBERSIDE. C.    I. IN 1955

“WBEN radio wants a student disc jockey — doing book and music reviews — if anyone 
is interested come to the main office today.” This appeal was part of the morning 
announcements at Humberside Collegiate Institute one morning in 1955.
“Who would be stupid enough to do that,” was general student reaction except for me.
Along with two nice girls from Bloor Collegiate, I became a disc jockey for a few months.

Once a week we would meet with the real disc jockey at the tiny studio on the second
floor of a nondescript office building.  This was not big time but it was interesting…even fun.
The radio station wanted to attract high school students as listeners and the three of us
were the bait.  Once a week we would do a short on air review of a book or a musician.
Free books and recordings was payment.  Fame Would follow our insight into fine literature 
and great music.


1950's radio station studio | Internet radio station, Radio, Radio station
PICTURE OF A RADIO STATON LIKE WE USED IN 1955
I was about the age of this disc  jockey. It was possible to run
around the broadest table as my female friends from Bloor
Collegiate discovered.



Well things did not exactly go as planned.  The books were not earth shattering.  And who had
time to read them anyway.  Most of my high school time in the fall of 1955 e playing football in
the mistaken belief that my uniform would attract girls.  I never read the books.  Maybe picked 
a page then made some asinine comment about the author. “Must be smart uses a lot of big words”
 No danger of lawsuits because no one
I knew even listened.

There were two events that made my disc jockey career memorable however.   

The two girls from Bloor Colegiste were gifted.  Really bright.  Cheerful. Good looking.  And they 
actually read the books and played the records.  My comments were generally stupid.  For instance
I had the same comment for every record. 

“And what do you think of that recording, Alan?”
“Well, I like the beat.”

Liking the ‘beat” was my sole claim to fame in 1955.  I don’t remember one girl at Humberside
ever saying a word about my role as a reviewer.  And saying “I like the beat” may have shortened
my radio career.

The experience all boiled down to two memorable events.

TWO MEMORABLE EVENTS

1)  Our host was a professional and lonely disc jockey. Place the emphasis on the word lonely.
He  had sexual interests in the girls from Bloor Collegiate. They counted on
me to protect them.  One of our last meetings when I was a little late I entered the broadcast
booth to find our host chasing the girls around the table.  Was he for real?   The girls laughed and
ran but I think they were losing interest in their ‘on air’ experience.  Was he radio host serous?
Was he capable of molesting the girls.  I think not.  Then again maybe he was serious  Ho could
he molest two girls at once?  (Today, in the year 2022, this would be scandalous. In 1955 it
seemed funny to me, perhaps a little sad.  Not sure the girls agreed)

“Alan, try not and be late again.”

2)  The Bloor C. I. girls were very cultured.  Think they read the books  I fondly remember their
taste in music. Classical music.  Think they were real musicians.  But they did not like
Hank Williams who I adored.   Somewhere in our cellar is a 45 rpm collection of Hank’s
recordings.

“Alan, we do not like country music.  You do the review ,,, and keep the Hank Williams album”
“Great!”

My review was not earth shattering..  Just the usual, “I like the beat” . But I loved the album and
still remember the Hank Williams songs.  I did not know about  his alcoholism and his
early death of  a Heart attack when 29 years old.  Nor did I know he had a powerful influence
of other great pop stars of the 1950’s such as ” Elvis Presley, Bob Dylan, Johnny Cash, Chuck Berry,

How could these terrific girls not love Hand Willims?  Maybe they knew about his alcoholism which
I did not.  My musical interests were a notch or two below theirs that’s for sure

(Note: Years later when our oldest son took piano lessons I asked the instructor
who was a classical musician, “Could you teach Kevin to play the piano like
Jerry Lee Lewis?”  “Are you serious?”  “You bet, I like the way he pounds the piano and jumps
around.”  Which was the end of Kevin’s piano lessons.

There you have it.  Two memorable events in my career as a disc jockey.  Our host chasing my female
friends around the studio.  And my acquiring of a HanK Williams Album which included some of these wonderful
country blues  songs:

alan skeoch
Oct. 13,2022

POST SCRIPT> NOTES AND TITLES – HANK WILLIAMS

 song lyrics

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Hank Williams

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

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For other people named Hank Williams, see Hank Williams (disambiguation).
Hank Williams
Hank Williams Promotional Photo.jpg

Williams in 1951
Born
Hiram Williams


September 17, 1923

Mount Olive, Butler County, Alabama, U.S.
Died January 1, 1953 (aged 29)

Oak Hill, West Virginia, U.S.
Resting place Oakwood Annex Cemetery
Montgomery, Alabama, U.S.
upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/5/55/WMA_button2b.png/34px-WMA_button2b.png 2x” class=”noprint wmamapbutton” title=”Show location on an interactive map” alt=”” style=”border: 0px; vertical-align: middle; padding: 0px 3px 0px 0px; cursor: pointer;”>32.3847°N 86.2913°W
Other names
  • Luke the Drifter
  • The Hillbilly Shakespeare
  • The Singing Kid
  • Timber Snake
  • Mr. Lovesick Blues
Occupation
  • Singer
  • songwriter
  • musician
Spouses
    ​
    ​

    (m. 1944; div. 1952)​

      ​
      ​

      (m. 1952)​
      Children
      Relatives
      Musical career
      Genres
      Instrument(s)
      • Vocals
      • guitar
      • fiddle
      Years active 1937–1952
      Labels
      Website HankWilliams.com
      Signature
      Hank Williams signature.png
      Hiram “Hank” Williams (September 17, 1923 – January 1, 1953) was an American singer, songwriter, and musician. Regarded as one of the most significant and influential American singers and songwriters of the 20th century, he recorded 55 singles (five released posthumously) that reached the top 10 of the Billboard Country & Western Best Sellers chart, including 12 that reached No. 1 (three posthumously).
      Born and raised in Alabama, Williams was given guitar lessons by African-American blues musician Rufus Payne in exchange for meals or money. Payne, along with Roy Acuff and Ernest Tubb, had a major influence on Williams’s later musical style. Williams began his music career in Montgomery in 1937, when producers at local radio station WSFA hired him to perform and host a 15-minute program. He formed the Drifting Cowboys backup band, which was managed by his mother, and dropped out of school to devote his time to his career. When several of his band members were drafted during World War II, he had trouble with their replacements, and WSFA terminated his contract because of his alcoholism.
      Williams married singer Audrey Sheppard, who was his manager for nearly a decade. After recording “Never Again” and “Honky Tonkin'” with Sterling Records, he signed a contract with MGM Records. In 1947, he released “Move It on Over“, which became a hit, and also joined the Louisiana Hayride radio program. One year later, he released a cover of “Lovesick Blues“, which carried him into the mainstream. After an initial rejection, Williams joined the Grand Ole Opry. He was unable to read or notate music to any significant degree. Among the hits he wrote were “Your Cheatin’ Heart“, “Hey, Good Lookin’“, and “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry“.
      Years of back pain, alcoholism, and prescription drug abuse severely compromised Williams’s health. In 1952, he divorced Sheppard and married singer Billie Jean Horton. He was dismissed by the Grand Ole Opry because of his unreliability and alcoholism. On New Year’s Day 1953, he suffered from heart failure and died suddenlyat the age of 29 on the way to Oak Hill, West Virginia. Despite his relatively brief career, he is one of the most celebrated and influential musicians of the 20th century, especially in country music. Many artists have covered his songs and he has influenced Elvis Presley, Bob Dylan, Johnny Cash, Chuck Berry, Jerry Lee Lewis, George Jones, George Strait, Charley Pride, The Beatles and the Rolling Stones, among others. Williams was inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame in 1961, the Songwriters Hall of Fame in 1970, and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1987. The Pulitzer Prize jury awarded him a posthumous special citation in 2010 for his “craftsmanship as a songwriter who expressed universal feelings with poignant simplicity and played a pivotal role in transforming country music into a major musical and cultural force in American life”.
      Posted on

      EPISODE 657 “I WILL NEVER USE A LEAF BLOWER. RAKING LEAVES IS BETTER” and A LONG OVERDUE CONFESSION ABOUT A ZIP GUN AND WOODEN MATCHES


      EPISODE 657    “I WILL NEVER USE A LEAF BLOWER.   RAKING LEAVES IS BETTER”  (FAMOUS LAST WORDS FROM MARJORIE)
                               ( and  the night A 12 year old boy set a street of dry leaves on fire with a clothes peg zip gun)

      alan skeoch
      oct. 11,2022

      THE NEW LEAF BLOWER

      “Alan, this leaf blower that Andrew gave me is wonderful.”
      “I thought you liked raking leaves?”
      “I do…and would like it better if you would help.”
      “”i bought you the rake.”
      “You could help.”
      “But we only had one rake…and now you have Andrew’s leaf blower
      you neither need a rake nor do you need help.”

      “Oh, yes, Marjorie those mounds of dry leave remind me on s evening back in 1950 when I made
      a clothes peg zip gun.   It was an evening of which I am not proud.”


      ALL the leaves in these pictures will eventual reach the ground where most will just lie
      there and return to earth from whence they came.



      Suppose Marjorie is not available to rake or blow your leaves away from your lawn.  Well get 
      ready for a big crop of voles and mice this winter….little creatures that make leafy homes in
      fallen leaves.


      HAVE YOU EVER MADE A ZIP GUN FROM A CLOTHES PEG?

         About the year 1950 homeowners raked their leaves into huge piles in the gutters
      in front oft their houses.  I remember one street in particular.  It stretched from Runnymede public 
      School in West Toronto down to Bloor Street.    A very leafy street.   A perfect street for me.   I did not
      consider myself a vandal although others may differ on that score.  I was a test mechanic,

      The October air on that street had the smell of burning leaves.  Some residents carefully burned their
      leaves but most people piled them in the gutter.   Which seemed like a god given opportunity to test my
      zip gun made from clothes pegs with wire snaps.  Those clothes pegs could easily be remanufactured
      into weapons that could snap fire wooden matches…shoot the flaming slivers five or six feet as I 
      remember. I had a whole box wooden matches.  Ammunition.

      Now on that October evening in 1950 I had never heard of the burning of Moscow.  And grandma never
      said much about the burning of Englehart, Ontario in 1906 except to say mom and the Freemans were
      burned out of their home.   Perhaps if the danger of fire had been drummed into me, I would not
      have set the WEst Toronto street on fire.

      SET THE STREET ON FIRE

      My 12 year old brain was not sophisticated.  I was just doing a simple experiment.  If  Idrove down 
      the street firing lit matches from my clothes peg weapon,, would the street catch fire with flames
      racing towards me as I peddled and fired.  I did not expect success.

       When I looked back up the street I could see
      some fire and people out beating burning leaves to death.
      Were they pointing at me?  I did not return to the crime
      scene and took a different route back to our house at 455 Annette Street.

      I kept this little secret until today…72 years later.

      Today our piles of leaves are collected by the City of Mississauga.   Millions of leaves
      are composted into food for gardens.

      How did this sensible use of leaves as garden manure originate.  Was the idea hatched
      by some brilliant environmentalists?  Or was leaf collectomg started due too the fire I triggered on that street in
      West Toronto?   Maybe I am vain.  Maybe I should  not take credit for the City
      of Mississauga leaf collecting.

      One thing is true.   Marjorie and her leaf blower ensure that no pile of dry leaves are anywhere
      near my zip gun.   Truth be told, I do not even remember how to make the gun.
      And who uses clothes pins today anyhow?

      If you are planning to send my name to the Leaf Police, I will deny the conflagration
      ever happened on an October night in 1950.   There is no one to remember.  Hearsay evidence
      has little weight in a court of law (I think!)

      alan skeoch
      Oc.t 11, 2022

      Exaggeraton?  Of course.  But with a kernel of truth


      SETTIN’ THE WOODS ON FIRE

      by Hak Williams 

      Lyrics
      Comb your hair and paint and powderYou act proud and I’ll act prouderYou sing loud and I’ll sing louderTonight we’re settin’ the woods on fire
      You’re my gal and I’m your fellerDress up in my frock and yellerI’ll look swell but you’ll look swellerSettin’ the woods on fire
      We’ll take in all the honky tonksTonight we’re having funWe’ll show the folks a brand new danceThat never has been done
      I don’t care who thinks we’re sillyYou’ll be daffy and I’ll be dillyWe’ll order up two bowls of chiliSettin’ the woods on fire
      I’ll gas up my hot rod stokerWe’ll get hotter than a pokerYou’ll be broke but I’ll be brokerTonight we’re settin’ the woods on fire
      We’ll sit close to one anotherUp one street and down the otherWe’ll have a time oh brotherSettin’ the woods on fire
      We’ll put aside a little timeTo fix a flat or twoMy tyres and tubes are doin’ fineBut the air is showin’ through
      You clap hands and I’ll start bowin’We’ll do all the law’s allowin’Tomorrow I’ll be right back plowin’Settin’ the woods on fire
      Source: Musixmatch
      Songwriters: Fred Rose / Ed Nelson Sr.
      Settin’ The Woods On Fire lyrics © Sony/atv Milene Music


      Posted on

      EPISODE 656 THIRTEEN DAYS IN DUBLIN IN 1960 (ALAN SKEOCH BEGINS IRISH JOB)

       BY TERRAVIVA

      UNFORGETTABLE SUMMER 1960….13 days in DUBLIN, IRELAND

      Note:In June 1960 I spent 13 days in Dublin…did not expect to do so…but it was quite fascinating…If  you
      are  expecting mining stories you will have to wait fro the next instalment…I did not get
      to the quaint village of Bunmahon until June 13.    


      IN DUBLIN’S FAIR CITY

      alan Skeoch
      Journal June 1 to June 13, 1960
      (No one predicted I would have a two week holiday in Dublin)

      This is the ancient Knockmahon copper mine on the south coast of Ireland.  That
      was my destination in 1960 but it would take 13 more days to get there. Meanwhile
      I lived in Dublin.


      Dublin, quite a city.  Circumstances prolonged my stay in Dublin so let me give you a short impression.
      First thing is the city smells…Jacob’s cookie factory, Guinness 62 acre brewery, Tea shops and horses. The
      smell is intoxicating.  The main street, O’Connell Street is wide and busy and for the most part happy in spite
      of bullet holes deliberately left to remind Irish people of the ‘time of the troubles’.   The people are super
      friendly…policemen who paid my bus fare, citizens who helped me find my way, and one family…the Behan’s,
      who sort of adopted me.   Lots of pubs to visit.  Lots of meat pies and sweet rolls to eat.  Trees!! Lots of them
      and a huge 700 acre park near the city centre.  Problems?  Of course.  Some obviously deranged people
      here and there.  Violence?  Never had trouble except one incident that I foolishly precipitated myself.
      To top the visit off, I was able to see The Quiet Man, the charming John Wayne, Maureen Ohara, and’
      Barrie Fitzgerald movie about an Ireland that seemed mythical but turned out to be true.  Some Irish might
      resent the stereotypes  but I thoroughly enjoyed them with no expectations they would be part of
      my experience on the Bunmaahon job.  But so much happened that was similar.   Not that I  felt I
      was  John Wayne.  I was however a North American stepping into a cultural milieu of which I was
      unfamiliar.

      One of the results of my stay  in Dublin was  the naming of our first born child Kevin.  The Behan family
      adopted me as if I was  their son, took me around Dublin to pubs I would  never find and allowed me
      to become part of an Irish family.

      MYJOURNAL:  I thought it was lost until by good fortune in April, 2018, I found it among some old  books in the cellar.  Quite amazing detail.


      JUNE 1, 1960


      Smooth flight across to Ireland with Are Lingus.  No one there to meet me so I can do whatever I please I guess.
      Dublin is  a beautiful city with throngs  of people on OConnell Street.  Friendly.  Girls are very pretty.  Visited
      the art gallery and then the museum like a normal  tourist.  Had to remind myself that I was not a tourist .
      Found offices of Arbuckle – Smith and Company only to discover our Turam shipment had not arrived yet.
      Called Barrie Nichols in Toronto to let him know there will be a delay then went shopping for shirt and shoes.
      Supper was no good. Toured Gresham Green.  Called  Mrs.  Behan who  invited me out to their house 
      tomorrow when Kevin Behan gets back from Italy. Very tired.  Fell to sleep three times during the day. Being
      alone is not that enjoyable.  Need other people to make life really interesting but it looks like I will
      be stuck here in Dublin for some time.  No point in heading south the County Waterford and  village of
      Bunmahon without all our crates of instruments. Toured Gresham Green.







      Huntec had booked  me into the high class Gresham Hotel expecting my stay in Dublin would be short.
      But our crates of equipment did not arrive for nearly two weeks.  The Gresham was fancy as pictured
      above and expense.  NO one told me the breakfasts were included in the room price.  I skipped breakfast
      for a week to save the company money as my expense check was only 200 pounds…not enough
      for me to stay at the Gresham so after a week I found a  cheap hotel in Clontarf, the Hollybrook, where
      I seemed to be the only guest and the staff made it clear my breakfast as  included.  Even then by the
      end of my stay in Dublin the money was  almost gone.









      June 2, 1960

      I woke up late so  skipped breakfast and walked to the Department of Justice to get my work clearance.  Had to prove I was doing
      a job that nn Irish person could not do.  Lots of unemployment here.  Looks like my training on the Turan E.M. unit has put me in a
      special  spot.  Few people know how to run it…and it is quite complicated…motor generator, base line a mile or so long, two receiving 
      coils with 100 for separation,  a console, picketed lines running 3,000 feet from the base line at right angles, etc.  Had to explain
      this  to an official.



      After that I took a bus to the the Guinness Brewery at St. James Gate, Since I had no bus fare the chap beside me paid my fare.
      Guinness is the national drink of Ireland, unless you are a non-drinker.  What a rare privilege to see this massive brewery in operation.
      They even have big draught horses harnessed to wagons loaded with barrels of Guinness to be delivered to pubs in Dublin.  The smell
      of the horses and the Guinness is wonderful to me.  The tour included a pile of Guinness post cards featuring men lifting bull dozers
      or pulling beer wagons with the horses as passengers. Humourous.   And the end of the tour was best. We all got a full pint of Guinness…
      my first.  I wasn’t to struck on the black liquid at first but soon overcame that problem.  Seems a tourist can have as much as he or she
      wants but I stuck to one pint.  I should have eaten breakfast. Felt a bit woozy…warm and woozy.  Not staggering.

      Ah, yes, Guinness is the national drink of Ireland… made from barley, hops, yeast and water.  That does not sound complicated.  
      Why is the beer black then?  Because the barley
      is roasted rather malted which makes a thick creamy head on the pint.  The thickness of the head is achieved by passing the beer through
      nitrogen…smaller bubbles result.  Guinness is so thick that each pint needs  time to settle.  
      Is Guinness really ‘good for you’ as the advertising says on billboards across  Dublin?  Some call Guinness ‘a meal  in a cup’ …198 calories
      per pint which…less than a pint of milk.  Drinkers  of Guinness get an ‘enhanced feeling of well being’ , an advertising statement frowned
      on by the government.  Created in 18th century by Arthur Guinness
      and apparently one of the most consumed beers worldwide.  Guinness does seem to be good for drinkers though…lots of healthy 
      antioxidants…like fruits and vegetables…slow deposit of bad  cholesterol on artery walls. Or so the story is told.  My ‘meal in cup’
      certainly replaced breakfast and gave me an enhanced feeling that the world around me is good.

      This  is  high tea at the Gresham Hotel where I stayed for the first week.  I did not know
      Breakfast was included in the room rate so  skipped  breakfast for that week.  Fancy
      hotel but very unfriendly.



      Bought some tomatoes  and meat pie to eat in my room while reading a book. Sort of lonely feeling…needed
      a pint of Guinness I guess but afraid to go into a pub alone.  Not fear just felt being solitary would be uncomfortable.
      Contacted a sign painter as Ministry of Justice insisted I have a road sign saying Danger in both English
      and Irish.  This will take some time to do…will pay extra to get faster work done.  Decided to go back to
      the Guinness factory , now have bus tokens, but found place closed.  Got some good pictures though.

      I was startled by a crazy woman in middle of the cobbled street near St. James Gate.  She was covered in
      blood while singing and dancing and jumping around.  Very sad.  She even relieved herself by lifting her skirt
      and pissing without care.  Most on lookers did not stop…treated  her as if a normal situation.  I kept walking 
      as well.  Returned to my room to finish off the meat pie.

      Phoned down to The Kennedy’s to see if  gear had arrived.  No luck.  Our crew of three will be staying with
      the Kennedy family in Bunmahon.  

      Then I bought some flowers and took a bus to the Behan home.  Mrs. Behan poured tea and a little later
      Kevin Behan came bursting on the scene.  He had just landed from Italy.  Grand fellow.  He took me to a
      pub for another Guinness.  Driving back he tried to run over a ‘teddy boy’…or at least to scare him.  ‘Teddy
      boy’s are street gang members I assume.    Then he drove me home to my hotel room.

      I Was quite surprised at Kevin’s hatred of these Teddy Boys.  Seemed just like rock and roll kids to me…couple 
      of my friends had the greased  down haircuts although most of them had brush cuts and  were not nearly as 
      fancy  dressed as the Irish Teddy Boys who tried to wear the fancy clothing of Edwardian England.  Some Teddy
      Boys did run in tough gangs though.   I think Kevin Behan’s hatred was triggered by the Notting Hill race Riots in
      London where some 300 Teddy Boys targeted black people using iron bars and butcher knives.  That was really bad
      but most Teddy Boys were just mild rebels like a lot of kids in my high school days back in Canada.  I kept my
      mouth shut.  Maybe Kevin had a bad experience. To me those Teddy Boys and Teddy Girls wereThe kind of kids  that loved 
      the movie Blackboard Jungle.  I did not tell Kevin that I skipped school one afternoon just to see the movie.
      Gutless.




      Teddy Boys, so names by their Edwardian dress, were seen as rebels.  Really they looked
      much like the Rock and Roll kids so common in Canada  in 1950’s and 1960’s.


      June 3, 1960

      I woke up at 9 and made my so called breakfast…crumpets and Quosh, an orange  fizzy drink.  Then went to see Mr. O;brien about maps
      and he in turn sent me to the Ordinance Survey Office in Phoenix Park.  What an immense place… with so many cattle I could
      not count them.,,and a herd of wild deer that had been there since the 17th century Got maps of old mines in western part of County Waterford. 
      Not sure they will be of any use at all. 
      Spent rest of  day
      walking through PhoenixPark. A bunch of soldiers were lawn bowling at one spot.  Then visited the Dublin Zoo.  Wish I hadn’t because 
      when I put the lens of my camera  close to the monkey enclosure one big monkey jumped  at me with sexual intent.  

      What generous people…an off duty policeman paid my fare back to my hotel.  Bought sausage rolls, buns and tomatoes
      for my supper…alone in my room…saving company expenses.  Phoned  Mr. Timlin, our shipment of crates from Canada have arrived in Liverpool.  Went to a movie after which
      I was cornered and badgered by a family of beggars on a side street…five them…really dirty.  Dangerous.  My nice feeling of independence is turning into
      loneliness.  Wrote letter to Marjorie and went to bed.


      Phoenix Park has large herd of semi wild deer that have been there from the 18th century




      Streets of Dublin, in 1960, still had presence of horses.  This man was just leading four of them casually
      down the street…note evidence of Horse manure indicating this was not an unusual sight.  a hundred years
      ago these horses numbered in the thousands.  i.e. There were 100,000 horses  in London in 1850 and  Dublin
      would have been similar.  Vast amounts of manure was linked to outbreaks of Cholera but from human rather
      than horse
      manure.

      June 4, 1960

      Got up late, very late…around noon.Went to bakeshop for my  breakfast (tomatoes, meat pie, crumpets). Spent most of the day absolutely bored.
      Phoned  Kevin Behsn and went over to his house in the evening.  Their daughter Yvonne was very cute showing me her pictures.  Kevin and Mrs Behan
      took me on the rounds of the local pubs.  Made me feel like home. One pub had  a creek running through the middle of it, another pub was a castle…ended
      evening in fish and chip  store.  I was startled to see so many Presbyterian churches in Dublin…thought all churches would be Catholic.  The I.R.A. had
      a rally on O;Connell Street.   Met an American girl who was with Joe Malone.  This is a strange summer…first prospecting job with so many people
      around me.  Not the usual  wilderness  of black flies  and endless  boreal forest. All the Catholics I have met so far have been quite wonderful.
      I expected hostility but found none so far.

      June 5, 1960

      Rose early and phoned Dr. John Stam in Holland. He will join me in Bunmahon once our crates get here.  Went to the Gresham  Green Unitarian Church
      where Rev. Hicks was quite funny and very British.  Then he spoke about the absence of national Birth control as a cause of war… citing the Irish lady who had 24 children and 
      her daughter who had 15.  I suppose that could be a criticism of Ireland’s Catholic majority and the church influence.  But I think his real point was that
      overpopulation of planet earth would lead to the three horseman of the apocalypse…famine, plague and war.  

      Caught a bus to Kevin and Ronnie’s house where Yvonne was very friendly crawling all over me.  Then we went for a very nice drive in the country.
      Many old  castles.  Had ice cream. Mrs. Behan had a nice supper during which Yvonne gave me a carnation.  Yvonne is 6 or 7 years old.  Then Kevin
      took me to a pub where we discussed the Irish Republican Army…kevin concluded that “the poison is being drawn out’.  But there are still machine guns
      on the border.  I took a picture of the family.  Kevin informed me I would be wise to find a better hotel.  Why? Because my fancy hotel had never informed
      me that Breakfast was included in the bill…I had been skipping breakfast or just having another meat pie just to save Huntec and Dr. Paterson some 
      money.  My stupidity I guess.  Hotel was so high class  that no one spoke to me at all.  ‘Snob hotel’


      What wonderful people…Kevin and Ronnie Behan.  They sort of adopted me for my stay in Dublin.  Their oldest, Yvonne, was  really
      a little charmer.  She was so glad to see me each visit that her greetings made me feel embarrassed.  The Behans made such
      an impression that Marjorie an I named  our first born Kevin.

      June 6, 1960

      Today is a national holiday in Ireland.   Took a bus to Malahide and walked back to hotel.  A farmer struck up a conversation in which he said
      “Irish people are the laziest people on the earth”…strange comment, perhaps  made as a joke or maybe to draw out an anti-Irish comment from me.
      Got caught in deluge of rain while walking to Kevin’s house.  Soaked.  Yvonne and family very glad to see me.  Sincere.  Took a drive to the North Harbour
      which was charming except for the fact some man committed suicide there.  Went to a pub then returned to the Behan  home for ’tea’ which  is a misnomer
      for a full supper…then watched BBC television for a while before taking whole family to the movie ‘Who Was That Lady’

      On Kevin’s advice I made plans to move to the Hollybrook Hotel in Clontarf…cheaper, friendly, with full breakfast.

      Picked up a strange fact…Ireland has the lowest marriage rate in the world.

      June 7, 1960

      Received word  from McNabb and  Timins that the Ronka has arrived but no sign of the Turam.  Moved my bag to the Hollybrook Hotel
      on the Howth Road … had  a nice pastoral setting and comfortable old pub kind of registration desk.  Decided to tour the Guinness  Brewery
      again.  “Will you be wanting another pint, lad?” said  the man who joined the tour but did not drink.  “Temperance…call us Pioneers over here.”
      Later I decided to line up at Dublin University to see the Book of Kells, an illustrated manuscript.  

      The BOOK OF KELLS…

      An unfortunate event happened while standing in line to see the Book of Kells.  Mostly my fault. I tapped the shoulder of the man in front of me and asked:

      “Are you Irish?”
      “No, Scottish…visiting.”
      “Is this University secular?”
      “What do  you mean by that?”…  he said  in rather angry manner
      “I mean is it attached to the church or the state?”
      “What do you mean by that?”…  he got more angry, I could not see why.
      “Just wondered.”
      “Are you Catholic?”… now he was really angry, perhaps disturbed. 
      “Born Catholic but not so any more.”  Bad  comment on my part…a mistake…like waving a red flag in
      front of a charging bull. 

      At that remark the guy went wild.  Seemed to want a fight.  I decided best course of action was to get
      the hell away from him but he followed me yelling who knows what for his accent was thick. A policeman
      rescued me and advised I take a  long ride on the bus and  keep  away from throwaway comments about
      religion.

      Why did I say that remark…Why trigger animosity?  It was  a  mistake, of course, but I was thinking back
      to the St. Skeoch legend.

       Our Skeoch relatives, ancient kind, were Catholic.  Most Scots were in the early centuries.  And there was 
      a  connection with the Book of Kells and the Scottish Isle of Iona.  A misty connection…likely  false.  A connection even more ancient than
      the 10th century Book of Kells.  At some point I had heard or read that St. Skeoch was one  of the 12 disciples
      of St, Columba  when he left (fled?) Ireland  in the sixth century for the Scottish Island of  Iona.  At that time
      the use of the term saint was loosely interpreted…i.e. without the approval  of Rome.  Was St. Skeoch one
      of the twelve?  Rome had no records but there are places  in Scotland where this St. Skeoch is mentioned.
      Maybe our family legend about the rescue of two boys on the Bloody fields of Bannockburn was true.  And
      the St. Skeoch convent could have been a St. Skeoch monastery.   All perhaps nonsense since much relies
      on hearsay.  All this was in my mind as lined up to see the Book of Kells.  Were our roots  as much Catholic
      as Presbyterian. So there are the  roots of my throwaway  comment that I was  ‘born Catholic but gave it up.’

      What was I really doing?  Just putting in time awaiting our high tech survey equipment.  The Book of
      Kells was fascinating…a  masterpiece of art that survived the Viking raids.

      The Book of Kells is one of the finest illustrated manuscripts in the world. 340 folio pages. Written in Latin and illustrated
       around 800 A.D.  when Most people could  not read.   Sometimes called the Book of Columba 
      because St Columba and  subsequent Columban monks did much of the work between the sixth and ninth centuries.









      Back to my Journal:  June 7, 1960

      Bad weather barreling in from the sea.  Wrote a  letter to Barrie Nicholls and John Hogan.  Hogan is a geologist
      representing our client. I am worried that the delay in equipment arrival will be cost the  project a lot of money.
      Maye I am the only one worried…hope so . Hotel resident  Joe and Moira invited me to have a drink with them
      which made for a perfect evening.

      June 8, 1960

      Arose late after the party last night with Joe and Moira.  Went downtown and bought field books, electric tape and signs
      to alert local people to dangers of our project, particularly the base line wire and generator.  Surprised when a  cyclist
      fell off his bike into the Liffey canal.  Ambulance came fast. The German sailors and officers from the Graf Spee are
      in  Dublin. Since I am the only guest in the Hollybrook Hotel I feel like the lord of this ancient manor house and get
      treated as such.  Nice. The expense money if going awfully fast.

      John Hogan made a surprise arrival so we finally got to discuss the project.  I phoned Mrs. Behan and then went to  show
      and a dance.  One girl at the dance must have crossed herself 40 times while praising the I.R.A.
      An interesting evening.  Washed my clothe and went to bed.

      June 9, 1960

      UP early and had first breakfast since I arrived in Ireland…hotel dining room.
      Sent most of the gear with John Hogan who was driving down to Bummahon … the project site in western
      part of County Waterford… Gave Mr. O’Brien a quick briefing the Turam operation.  Checked with Arbuckle but
      Turam has still not arrived.  

      John Hogan and I toured the Guinness Brewery … my third visit.  Then we had a lousy meal at the Temperance
      Hotel. Then visited head office of Irish National Sweepstakes and bought 5 shillings tickets for Marjorie.  Walked
      back to hotel then walked to the Behan home where kids were really cute.  Yvonne and Denise kept bringing me
      corn flakes on the dog’s plate.  Yvonne  seems to like my lap.  Other kids Anella  and Murial also cute.  Then Kevin.
      Ronnie (Mrs. Behan) went toHouth for a drink.  A drunk woman was entertaining if a little pathetic.  Ronnie ironed
      my shirt afterwards then Kevin drove me back to the Hollybrook.

      June 10, 1960

      Had  big breakfast … bacon, eggs, fried tomatoes….topped off with a rack of cold toast and marmalade.  What should
      I do for the rest of the day now that John Hogan has gone south?  Tour!  Dublin is a  city of wonderful smells.  Guinness
      Brewery covers  over 60 acres making lots of beer.  But there is also a strong smell of cookies being baked at the Jacobs
      factory.  So I followed my nose and had a tour.  250 employees mostly girls who gave me plenty of attention…including
      whistling and touching.  Good time if a bit intimidating.  


      The Quiet Man is great entertainment…surprised me that much of the 1920 Irish stereotypes turned  out to be real in our little world  of Bunmahon in 1960.
      The Dark Time of the Tourbles was downplayed.


      “Alan, do not miss the chance to see “The Quiet Man” while here in Ireland,” said Kevin and  Yvonne Behan.
      So I went alone to see the film featuring John Wayne, Maureen Ohara and Barrie Fitzgerald.  What a grand movie.
      My work site in Bunmahon could not possibly be as joyful and humorous as the movie but I wish it were so.

      Dublin has an under class.  I noticed  and felt sorry for an old one-eyed woman who was  having bread and tea while
      I had a steak with all the trimmings.

      I am picking up the Irish lingo.  Today  was described as a ‘soft’ day which means it was pouring rain.

      Got an urgent message from Arbuckle, Smith and Company saying the crates had not arrived in Liverpool yet. What the
      hell is going on?  They told me the crates were there the other day.

      June 11, 1960

      Getting better sleep now that I am having big breakfast.  Afterwards I went down to Arbuckle to pick up the part of shipment
      that has arrived…i.e. the Ronka E.M. unit.  I will take it south on Monday. Sent telegram to Dr. Stam in Amsterdam and wrote
      a long letter to Barrie Nichols in Canada.  My money is very short…less than 20 pounds left. Kevin asked me up to tea (i.e.supper
      in Irish lingo) then Kevin took Ronnie and me to movie “Once More with Feeling” (no  good). After we took girls home Kevin took
      me to meet his mother snd father…all  are in the car business.

      June  12, 1960

      Wind is blowing from the sea…smashing windows.  I walked to Clontarf Presbyterian Church where Rev. Moore greeted me warmly
      and  asked me to join him for a few minutes in the vestry  Guest speaker was a methodist, Rev. Livingston who spoke about ‘Happy 
      Harry the Hare” which sounded weird at first but made sense in the end. 

      Then another day with the Behan family.  I would not intrude normally but they really made me feel so welcome that to refuse
      would  be an insult.  Ronnie prepared another great meal. Yvonne was full of beans as usual…crawling all over me.  We drove
      to Houth and stopped at Claremont for a couple of draughts of Guinness…back for ‘tea’ and then to the movie ‘sweet smell of success’
      This was my last day in Dublin.  Sad farewell to the Behan family.


      Brendan Behan

      Brendon Behan and  Kevin Behan were not related.  Two very different people who shared one common wonderful trait.  They loved  people and
      an afternoon in their company was an  honour.  

      Kevin Behan was my host for the Dublin interlude.  He and his family opened their hearts  and doors to me.  I cannot explain why they did this except to say
      the they loved people, loved Ireland and wanted to share this love with a young 21 year old  kid like me.  One result was the naming of our first born child, Kevin,
      in honour of Kevin Behan.  Sadly, we never told that to the Behan family.

      A poem by Brendon Behan

      RED ENVOY

      I bring no songs of rolling drums
      Of pennons flying gaily
      I sing of filth and dirty slums
      Gaunt man with hunger crazy
      Canticles, not of virtue bright, nor holy austere lives.

      I chronicle consumption’s blight
      And the haggard face of wives
      Who gaze on children, pale and wan
      Who see no flowers nor hear birds song.

      I see no beauty rave in dreams of justice, unto those
      Who keep the wheels of old earth moving
      And oil them with their woes
      Of burning towns and brimstone red
      A phoenix from the ashes dead
      Our city, truth and justice wed arise.

      I see this old bad order die
      In a great swift blaze of fire
      A structure, clear and mighty high
      Born in its funeral pyre
      Worker, know the world’s for thee
      Were thou to raise the servile knee
      From off the ground.

      Brendon Behan

      Brendon Behan was a man of the 1950’s snd 1960’s.  He had strong opinions even as a teen ager joining
      the Irish Republican Army at 14 years of age.  He was an ardent republican. Regarded the English
      monarchy with disdain.  That said, he became very popular and his quick wit amused not just the Dublin Irish 
      but the literary world in general.   His most famous play is titled “The Quare Fellow” which is set
      in a  prison in the heart of Dublin.  “Quare” is Irish for “Queer.”   Brendon  Behan’s one liners
      were quoted again and again by people with both a sense of humour and a knowledge that there
      is a dark side to the human condition.

      “I am a drinker with writing problems.”

      “Ah, bless you sister, may all your children be bishops.”

      “When I came back to Dublin I was court mortised in my absence
      and sentenced to death in my absence
      So I said they could shoot me in my absence.”

      “There  is no such thing as bad publicity
      Except your own obituary.”

      “The most important things to do in the world are to
      get something to eat
      get something to drink
      and get someone to love you.”

      Monday June 13  LAST DAY IN DUBLIN

      How can I best describe this day?   Like a dam that has suddenly broken free…like  A clock that is out of control  and time spins free …like a race begun once the gun is fired.
      Suddenly everything speeded up and I would be gone before the sun set.
      This was  be last day in Dublin.  I did not know that.  I did not know that events would move so fast that by evening I would be in the village
      of Bunmahon nestled  in an ancient place with the ruins of the Knockmahon mine brooding black and foreboding as the sun set.


      My first view of Knockmahon where i would have adventures not forgotten in 60 years.



      Events of that fine Dublin day:

      Began packing at 8.30…then phoned Arbuckle…our shipment had arrived. Dr. Stam coming by air…Hogan ready to pick us up inWaterford.
      time to get a haircut then caught bus to the airport…watched  KLM flight land and Dr. John  Stam cleared  customs. Briefed  him onIrish  officials I had
      met…back to hotel for dinner and beer. Back to America Express…then over to see Mr. O’brien.  Took luggage to train station…first class tickets to Waterford
      where John Hogan met us with his Fiat…drove to Bunmahon on the edge of the sea..passed the ruins of the Knockmahon mine standing alone on the
      edge of steep cliffs that fell down to the sea.  Empty.  No  houses.  No  living things.  Then road  dipped down to the Mahon River and the village of Bunmahon
      where we were to be based for the duration of the survey.  Met Mrs. Kennedy who would be our landlady and Irish ‘manageress’ … an expert on the inner
      workings of this sliver of Irish  society.  Very Catholic…My room has three Christian statues and  a large picture of  Jesus with his heart showing…hangs above my bed.
      Surprised to get my mail…letters from Marjorie and  some.  Jan Stam said he was pleased with my handling of the situation.  He would  be in charge from now 
      on and would do the interpretation of the notes from my field book each day.  John Hogan was a geologist with the Denison Mines company.  Three of us.  But
      many more will be hired.  Eventually I hired the whole village.  More of that later.



      “

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