"These happy golden years are passing by, these happy golden years." Laura Ingalls Wilder

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

The Old Country


Tracing me roots (not those silver ones ;). 'Tis been a long time coming that I find me paternal family in the old country of Ireland. And 'tis not as though I haven't been a trying for years! So just by off chance I googled the 'Cummins family of Ireland', and what do ye think popped up on me screen? I'll be switched ... there was me connection that eluded me for years. Me great grandfather's family of Inch, Ireland. In full view were the names of me long dead/lost relatives. Pictures of the town parish churches and articles about the potato famine that scattered our kin around the globe. Pictures of me kin too. So if ye were thinking I was just a foolin' ye about being a wee bit Irish ... you can lay that fool idea to rest ;).

A Wish for a Friend

Wishing you a rainbow
For sunlight after showers—
Miles and miles of Irish smiles
For golden happy hours—
Shamrocks at your doorway
For luck and laughter too,
And a host of friends that never ends
Each day your whole life through!

6 comments:

Jim said...

Hey M&M, I am happy for you that you found your relatives over there. I can't find mine. I find the name [Corkill, Isle of Man] but I have no idea of how these people fit in with the scheme of us.
Happy St. Patrick's day. Your poem is very nice, thank you.
Thank you for your nice visit, I left this reply to your comment:
"M&M, we had the last of the left-overs tonight for supper. Irish stew, Irish soda bread, and Irish cooked cabbage. Mrs. Jim made everything, this was the third and final time for this meal. She made two big pots of stew.
It has fed eighteen (18). I thought maybe another pot of stew would have been fine. (Mrs. Jim said 'no.')"

I should have warned you about "Soldier Boy." The Armed Forces have a way of maturing the young fellows. It sure did me.
I did drive a tracked troup carrier one time. From its parking place to the motor pool wash rack where I had to wash it.
My basic training was at Fort Hood in the Fourth Armored Division.
..

Maggie Ann said...

Mrs.Mac what a delightful post! Loved it. Good for you, finding your roots...and kinfolk. Thats a fine heritage. Yes, I think I do remember my Mom doing some liquid embroidery. She loved crafts of all kind. She did so much plastic canvas needlepoint...and I loved to visit her and see what pretty thing she was creating. She's the one who got me started on cross-stitch. She went to a party, bought some kits and then discovered her eyes just weren't up to it. She was excited about the chicken cross-stitch she did complete, and gave me some to do I believe. Well, its off to a nice hot tub for me and a cup of tea. We've had a long day of appts., and shopping. Goodnight...

Constance said...

For years I was led to believe that we were predominantly Irish on my father's side of the family. (I was also told we had Choctaw Indian in us as well). Once I started digging into my genealogy, I found only ONE relative who was from Ireland, a Jennie Slone. That is all I have on her, no county of origin, nothing! I found that we have Scottish ancestry and TONS of English as well as French! I'm still looking for that supposed Indian connection!

My mother is from Germany but what is unusual is that in all that I have traced on my father's side (back to the 10th century) there is NO German whatsoever! You know those Germans, they were everywhere!

Totally random thought here but I watched "The Quiet Man" just a couple of weeks ago. That's still one of my favorite John Wayne movies and Maureen O'Hara was a beauty!
Connie

Deb said...

I don't think I have any ancestors from Ireland. Italy and England here. Olivia has some Scottish blood in her from Brillo Man's side of the family....that's about as close to Irish as we get!

Pat said...

I don't know of any Irish in me, but my thought is there must be some...somewhere way back. There's always an interloper in the family lines somewhere!

Felisol said...

Dear Mrs. Mac,
Now I am lucky for you!
Finding one's roots is like finding a part of oneself.
I guess there will be some trips to
Ireland for you.
Happy belated st. Patrick's Day.
From Felisol