Tag Archives: Welsh Terriers

Moving Again PT I

13 Tuesday Apr 2021

Posted by in coming home, For the live of dogs, Ireland, Irish Adventures, Irish Scenes, LIfe, Making our own way, Mountains in Ireland, My home, new adventures, New Paths, The continuing adventure

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Harley and Wiglet looking at their new view

It’s been a week since we started the move from our rental property to our new house, and what a week! Being the second time we have moved country we are used to the hard work and logistics that have to be put into place. The when you move country is you often have to move twice, once into a rental and then again into the home you buy.

RD and I were talking the other day about how we have basically been packing and unpacking in some form for seven months this time: Montaigu France – Gite in France- Rental Cottage in Ireland- New home.

But I’m not complaining because we have learned a lot from this part of the adventure, not least for me, because I have learned that whilst I think we need to do X life will show me we need to do Y, and this time I listen.

The start of decorating the bedroom

I was convinced we needed to decorate our bedroom before our bed came yesterday (that’s another story!) and bless RD he duly starting stripping the wall, but we had deliveries every day, on top of actually loading our van with stuff from the rental and driving it across the mountains to our new home, often through snowy wonderlands.

The oven in our new home looked as if it had something growing in it! Needless to say once the huge delivery of white goods arrived on Saturday that was a priority job for RD, along with fitting the washing machine and so much more: moving the fridge 4 times (women of the world will understand), putting the Hoover together, and the bed when it finally arrived, and the coffee table….

As well as decanting the boxes and boxes of stuff we have acquired and brought with us I have been busy ordering essentials, like crockery! Nearly all of our worldly goods are in France with no sign of when we can have them sent over, or collect them. But as most of them are going in the garage they’re not a priority for now, but it does mean we have to buy many essentialsall over again.

I have also been busy arranging rubbish collection (not automatic in Ireland, it’s collected by private companies) and arranging internet, and deliveries. To say we’re tired is an understatement.

The front gates and gate into the paddock had to be covered in wire to stop the Welshies getting out, that was our first job, carried out by RD on the first day we started the move in the snow and sleet. When we finally spent our first night here on Saturday, sleeping in the floor, we had been driving a total of 15 hours in round trips back to the rental. Add the final trip on Sunday when we went back to pick up our final bits and clean the cottage RD had wracked up 18 hours of driving and we still had another full van to unload. Followed by another night of sleeping on the floor!

I have limited internet, and hit and miss 4G on my phone, so pictures will be few for now, but I will do my best to keep you all in the mix. RD and I really feel that this little house is home, I think we all feel that.

Moisy

Exciting Times ..We’re On The Move Again!

05 Monday Apr 2021

Posted by in Change is a coming, coming home, For the live of dogs, Ireland, Irish Adventures, Making our own way, My home, new adventures, renovations, The continuing adventure

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Our Small Irish Home

We’re finally on the move. Our contract has been signed, the ten per cent deposit has been paid and we’re just waiting for all the dots on the I’s and crosses on the T’ until completion.In the meantime our vendor has allowed us to move into the house pending everything going through.

It’s exciting times, not least these two will finally have a garden, albeit small to start with, to run around in with no fear of other dogs.

Harley and Wiglet, our babies.

Eventually RD will open up the half acre paddock you can see on the side of the property. But that’s a little bit off for now. So far it’s been busy just getting what we need together to move in.

When we moved from France we came over with virtually nothing, all of our treasured belongings left in France in anticipation of moving them over. But sadly in this world we live in that has proved exceptionally difficult, what with tests, lockdowns, and isolation! Meaning we will move in without our stars, cherubs, and hearts, along with step ladders, and basic utensils for the kitchen which will need to be bought.

We have been busy buying: lamps, sparkly lights, rugs and sofas. Add to that all the basics you need like a fridge freezer, microwave, washing machine and it all begins to become quite scary, but also very exciting.

Our New Bedroom mmmm lots of work to do.

We have a beautiful super king size bed in France, but on Saturday we took on board ‘living in the here and now’, in that our bed is not here, and we need a bed now! We also finally accepted that our super king bed would never fit into our small bedroom, not unless we rip out the wardrobes which offer a huge amount of storage; it’s not feasible. So we bought a new king size bed, and the wardrobes are staying. Trust me when I say that the wardrobes are going to have the mother of all facelifts and the crystal doorknobs have already been ordered!

We will make room for the super king bed one day. I live in hope.

We had the conversation on Saturday about thinking realistically as to when we can retrieve our belongings, and how buying new things makes us realise we had still packed too much stuff to bring over to our new life. I think we may be letting even more things go.

The van is packed for its first three hour round trip to our house, including coal and logs so that we can light the fire when we get there. The oil has been ordered and should be delivered tomorrow, all good because the house has been unheated for at least two years, and it’s blowing a hooley with snow at the moment, so to say it’s cold is an understatement. Luckily we are not moving in until next Sunday hopefully it will be warm by then.

I wrote in 2015 that we had one more house left in us, now it looks like we have one more. #Excited.

Rosie

Life In Limbo – We Are Getting Restless

30 Tuesday Mar 2021

Posted by in Beautiful Donegal, Change is a coming, For the live of dogs, Ireland, Irish Adventures, Irish Scenes, LIfe, My family and other furry creatures, new adventures, The continuing adventure, Us

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Dunmore in Beautiful Donegal Ireland

RD and I are getting restless. Ever the home-makers after twelve weeks of living in our rental we want to move on into our own house and start to build our lives.

Now don’t get me wrong, I am grateful for this lovely little cottage we are renting. The landlord is so lovely, and the crofters around us have been so welcoming and friendly. But it’s not our home, and with our things still in France I have tried to make it as homely as possible buying some things we will need for our new house and using them here. I love our pretty crystal lights, currently on our bedside tables, but probably destined for our new living room.

Having always been a homebody there is of course nothing like a cushion or throw. The animals love them too…

Kittens on our day ed in Montaigu
Wiglet in her old French Antique Cot, it didn’t make the move to Ireland.

Sadly most of my cushions are in France, and some didn’t make the move, so I brought some throws and cushions with us, as many as I could shove under the dogs without their heads touching the roof of the van! Knowing we will need some more I bought some from trusty Ikea, and I have made the living room as much our own as I could.

But it’s not home, no cherubs, no pretty curtains, no bed with crystals or little stars, no vintage French mirrors.

Home

As those that read my blog know the views here have been nothing but breathtaking, and we count our blessings for the opportunity to live here.

But before we moved here we used the lessons we had learnt: in not letting our hearts run away with us, and we drew up a list of our ‘idyll’ for where we wanted to live. With one of the biggest things being that we didn’t want to be in the middle of nowhere. We need to work, we want to work, we have realised that we don’t want to retire, yet, so we need to be nearer to where work is available. We also wanted to be near amenities, but still in the peace of the countryside; where we are now is literally at the tip of a little peninsula, surrounded by sea with a fifteen minute drive just to get out onto the main road, stunningly beautiful, but also remote. There is always a compromise.

All of that has served to re-enforce that we want to be near to a community, including shops, pubs (of course!) and a hub.

Carrickfin Beach and Donegal Airport.

Look at the picture above and you will see a small road on the right hugging the coastline, follow that road up into the outcrop and we currently live at the very end of that little outcrop on the left, literally right by the sea. You cannot even see the house we are so far out. It really is a spectacular place to be, and for a short stay or holiday I personally don’t think it could be beaten. But to get to any main town to work you have to drive almost an hour and a half up through the mountains, so it is impacting on finding work because once our current address is seen we would probably be excluded due to the journey. (Although I think that may be life trying to tell us something.)

Add to all of this that we are surrounded by houses on all sides, as is normal with crofts, it also means that there are other dogs all around us and Wiglet is constantly on a state of high alert. She had a bad start in life, put in a pound with other dogs who beat the crap out of her, so being able to see other dogs in our garden from all angles is her idea of a nightmare. We are stressed because she is stressed and we need to de-stress her.

Wiglet and her Wonky Smile

Poor Harley has constantly been on a lead when we take him out for nearly four months and we can see that he is depressed, which is hardly surprising given that he had the run of an acre of land in Montaigu

Harley, Waiting Patiently

So it’s time to move and things are on their way, more to come……

Rosie

The Glens…And Harley Pup

21 Sunday Feb 2021

Posted by in Beautiful Donegal, coming home, For the live of dogs, Ireland, Irish Adventures, Irish Glens, Irish Scenes, Mountains in Ireland, The continuing adventure

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A frozen glen in the Derryveagh Mountains 2021

There are thirty mountain ranges in Ireland, with glen’s running down through them. The word glen comes from the Irish and Scottish word ‘gleann’ and means a narrow valley, more often than not with water cascading down through it cutting through the rock as it goes. We are currently living near the Derryveagh Mountain range in Donegal. My understanding is that it is the Bluestack mountains that we will be able to see from the house we are hoping to buy, which is good news as far as I am concerned.

I have written before of my love of the glens. When I was a very young child we would visit Ireland on holiday, and whilst my dad helped his brother on his farm I would play with my cousins in the glen that run past the side of their farmland. There was a small stone bridge that straddled the freezing cold sparkling water as it ran down from the mountains to meet the sea, and we would all congregate under the bridge on warm sunny days catching tiddlers and then letting them go. It is one of my favourite memories of my holidays in Ireland.

The glen of Aherlow which run past my uncles farm

Ever since then I have always been fascinated with the beauty of the glens, as they catch the light and take it with them to the sea.

The last time I was in Ireland before moving here, was thirty-six years ago when my dad brought the whole family, including boyfriends of the time, to visit his family. I can remember walking up what I think were the Galtee Mountains and along the edge of the Glen of Aherlow; the further you walked up the mountain the bigger the glen was in places, sometimes a raging torrent angrily hurtling down the hills, as if it really didn’t want to leave it’s surroundings but compelled by some sort of magic to keep going anyway. The sun was shining and the glen was at it’s most magnificent, a watery jewel that only nature could create.

The glen of Aherlow in the mountains

My partner at the time had a terrible wound on his hand, he had caught it with a grinder and took layers of skin off and it just wouldn’t heal. My dad told him to place his hand in the freezing pure waters of the glen and hold it there. His hand was healed before the holiday was over.

My Beautiful Boy Harley

For those new to my blog, of which there seem to be quite a few so welcome, our Welshie Harley has always loved water, and especially the light that sparkles on it. There was never a moment of peace when our pool was in place for the summer, no laying in the water and relaxing because Harley would just be stood up beside the pool barking incessantly until you splashed him, and he would then chase the sparkling droplets all around the garden. It was the same with the hose, he just loved it.

Harley at the Pool
Harley chasing sparkling water courtesy of daddy

It was one of the things that broke our heart when we took it down for the last time. But we comforted ourselves that he would love his life here.

Harley had a terrible health scare back in 2017 when he nearly died. Since then we have always been afraid that it would have affected him in other ways, add to that he is not getting any younger and it is always a worry.

Towards the end of last year we had another health scare with him, which resulted in me being in tears for a whole weekend until we decided to ‘wait and see’. But one of the things that I said at the time, through the tears was that I just wanted to get Harley to Ireland, and for him to see the beaches, and more importantly the glens, with their sparkling magical light that I knew my boy would love.

I was not wrong.

Although we have not been able to go into the mountains for walks due to the dreaded lockdown we have been able to experience some of the glens as they finally meet the sea; and Harley, like his mummy, has absolutely loved them.

We have visited a town near to us where the glen finally runs free into the sea, gurgling hysterically as it’s journey finally comes to fruition. Harley could not resist getting closer to take a look.

A few weeks ago we went to the long beach near to us, and there was a small glen trickling down to freedom, because we have not been able to get into the mountains we showed it to Harley, it was one of those moments that makes you smile.

I cannot wait until we can go into the mountains and my boy can finally stand in their healing waters. More to come on this subject.

Rosie

Invigorating Cold Atlantic Winds

11 Thursday Feb 2021

Posted by in Beautiful Donegal, coming home, Dream, For the live of dogs, Ireland, Irish Adventures, Irish Scenes, The continuing adventure, The seasons, The Wild Atlantic Way

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Kincasslagh Donegal Ireland

The cold is here in Ireland, along with most of North West Europe, but so far we have had only a flurry of snow.

Today RD had an appointment and I was here with the puppies, meaning we walked down to the beach alone. Well apart from the little Jack Russell, who I have nicknamed Fannie Annie, who has decided that she wants to walk with us most days. Wiglet tried to bite her initially, as is normal for our insecure little dog, but Fannie Annie was far too fast for her and in the end our little fat-arsed Oompa Loompa gave up and called a truce.

Wiglet with Fanny Annie,, whose keeping a safe distance

There is nothing like walking in the biting wind, the kind that stings your face, to wake you up and invigorate you.

Winter On The Beach In Donegal

Nature really is a fabulous thing.

When we arrived on the beach the tide was out, and I found myself surrounded by stark winter colours everywhere.

With the dunes taking the brunt of the wind the beach felt calm and the sun was warm on my back, a timely reminder that despite this cold Spring is on its way.

Winter in Donegal

I count my blessings every day.

Rosie

Making A New Life: Home

04 Thursday Feb 2021

Posted by in Change is a coming, coming home, For the live of dogs, Ireland, Irish Adventures, Learning and Evolving, Making our own way, My home, The continuing adventure

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Our possible new home, and yes the land comes with it!

Buying a house was one of our priorities after arriving in Ireland. RD and I have always been home makers, we don’t do well without a house that is ours. Many years ago, just after we married I had to sell my previous marital home and we moved into rented accommodation. Luckily our landlady was a gem, and allowed us to decorate and make some changes, but it’s not the same as being able to make big changes or hanging pictures, or shelves.

Luckily we were blessed enough to have a guardian angel who allowed us to buy her house at a time when prices were rising faster than dough. Trust me I am grateful for that every time I buy a home. But that’s not to say that we haven’t worked bloody hard renovating properties, and making them our own, to get us to where we are now.

A selection of our homes over the past twenty years

We love to pull things together and even now we’re not afraid of hard work, but we also know that we’re not getting any younger so with this in mind and due to my leg injury we both agreed that this time we wanted single floor living.

In the early autumn we sat down and each wrote our idyll of what our next house would be, it was a helpful thing to do, enabling us to stay focused this time round and not allowing the romance of a building take over our decision making.

Learning from previous decisions we wanted somewhere that was in a quiet location but within walking distance of community and the pub (of course!) In addition we didn’t want too much land. So by the fifteenth of January we put in an offer for the semi-detached bungalow in the picture at the beginning of this blog, and it was accepted!

It is a tiny house, but has plenty of potential with a half acre paddock at the side, a courtyard and scope to develop if we want to. Situated in a small community it is also only two kilometres from a village with enough pubs, shops and amenities that we can walk to; it is also only seven kilometres from two large towns, and half an hour from the biggest towns in Donegal, whilst also virtually on the border to Northern Ireland, meaning more job opportunities.

In the beautiful county of Donegal and only thirty five minutes from the beach, it holds all we need, we knew that location was essential. We have loved living near the beach, and so have the Welshies, so easy access to the beach at weekends is important for us, but it was also important to be in a quiet place, but not too isolated.

The deposit has been paid, so hopefully all will go smoothly and quickly. It will be the smallest house we have ever lived in, but we know it will be home.

Watch this space. But for now we will be enjoying the here and now.

Rosie

Inspired …Winter Walks In Ireland

23 Saturday Jan 2021

Posted by in For the live of dogs, Ireland, Irish Adventures, Irish Scenes, mental health, Mountains in Ireland, new adventures, New Paths, sunrises and sunsets, The continuing adventure

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Wild Atlantic Way, Kincasslagh Donegal

Since living here I have realised how little we actually walked when living in France. Having just under an acre of land the dogs had enough space to roam, our road was over 2km long, and after you’d done that walk often it became a bit boring. So we became a lazy, just sitting under the trees in our then garden, and looking out over the beautiful view.

The View From Our Garden In France

It’s been cold here since our arrival in Donegal in Ireland, so at times our walks have incorporated wild wild winds, or mizzle (a mixture of mist and drizzle, the name coming from Cornwall) or just bracing cold in bright sunshine, and sometimes in the setting sun.

A Wall of Wave on The Wild Atlantic Way Donegal Ireland
January Sunset On The Wild Atlantic Way Donegal Ireland
Welsh Terriers OnThe Beach In Donegal Ireland
January Sunset On Carrickfin Beach The Wild Atlantic Way Donegal Ireland

Now we are renting a house where the grounds are not secure, so we have to take the Welsh Terriers for a long walk every day. But there is no ‘have to’ to be fair, because when the colours in your surroundings seem to change every few minutes, and your scenery is mountains and beaches, and the ‘Wild Atlantic Way’ we don’t need any encouragement.

Snow Capped Mountains in January in Donegal Ireland

After every walk we come home with our faces stinging and pink from the cold; and despite often being sopping wet (this is Ireland after all) we feel invigorated. We have even downloaded walking apps onto our phone, and in the last week I have achieved over twenty five thousand steps and burned off over two thousand calories. It is good for me because I have an injury to a very small muscle in my arse, it’s chronic and I’ve had it a number of years, but the walking is strengthening my other muscles, although we have decided that I need a walking stick to help me get up the banks on the beaches, and to climb some of the dunes. Who would have thought such a small muscle could incapacitate you to such a degree! But I am undeterred, you have to keep going.

Eregal Mountain January In Donegal

Today the mountain range was covered in snow, which blew in last night. There we were on the beach looking at the snow covered mountains.

The dogs absolutely love their beach walks, and Wiglet who used to be terrified of our swimming pool in France, is in awe of the sea. She stands, like King Canute, barking at the waves, commanding them to go back. Then hilariously keeps jumping and looking back as the creep up behind her, as if to say ‘They’re following me!’

Wiglet Commanding The Waves

No matter how cold, both of them run in and out of the surf, and stand facing the wind, ears on alert. It really is a simple thing that we love in these difficult times.

We love living here.

Rosie

Winter Sunset Carrickfin Donegal Ireland

Our Irish Walks ….Being Able To Laugh At Life Even In Dangerous Situations

23 Saturday Jan 2021

Posted by in For the live of dogs, Ireland, Irish Adventures, Irish Scenes, laughter & giggles, mental health, Mountains in Ireland, My family and other furry creatures, new adventures, Simple things, The continuing adventure

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The Very Wild Atlantic Way January 2020

Last week we decided to find the beautiful long beach that our landlord had told us about. Off we went, sailing past the turning and following the signs depicting The Wild Atlantic Way

The weather was blowing a hooley, pouring with rain, with intermittent strong blasts of driving sleet, it was a joy. Really it was a joy! I am loving every bit of weather that blows our way, in the same way as I embraced every season and what it had to offer in France. I am doing the same here, with the different colours of the sky and sea. But on with my story…

We arrived at a small beach where there was a sign that said ‘No Swimming On This Beach At ANY Time Of The Year’. That should have been a clue! There were people walking on the beach, well in fact they were just leaving as we started to make our way down the wooden walkway onto the beach.

At the bottom of the stairway were a collection of small rocks, with a glen trickling into the sea, which you had to step over, or through if you had your wellygogs on like me. I stopped to look at the waves running back onto the rocks, trying to ascertain whether the tide was coming in.

This beach really lived up to the title of ‘Wild Atlantic Way’. The storm was blowing around us and the waves were pounding the beach, with some literally the size of a house.

Yep! That’s a wave!

RD had made his way onto the beach in front of me, and as I watched the waves run over my wellygogs, they went from covering my toes to coming halfway up my boot, in one wave! I shouted to RD ‘The tide is coming in, we need to go back’ as the third wave came to the top of my boot. He looked at me as if I was mad until he saw how deep the water was becoming, and as I turned and made my way back to the walkway he started to come back, reigning the Welshies in on their leads. But Harley’s lead jammed and as RD was pulling him back manually a huge wave came in and just took RD’s feet out from under him, literally. It pulled Wiglet’s lead and dragged her back into the sea, luckily she managed to scramble onto a rock.

The rocks now filling with water

I had turned round just in time to see it happen, it was so fast, and RD was just laying there, with his back to me, with the waves building up to come again, and I knew we were in trouble.

My immediate reaction was ‘Oh my God!’ But as the wave went out it also pulled RD’s tracksuit bottoms and pants down (thank God we were the only lunatics on the beach!) and I confess as I scrambled back across the rocks a little giggle escaped from me, and although I was terrified I was struggling not to laugh as my husband lay on the beach with his arse on show.

By the time I got to RD he had managed to get up, but was soaked from top to bottom, and was covered in sand. Wiglet was fine and just ran up to me but Harley was still halfway up the ever diminishing beach. I took Harley’s lead and pushed a very shocked RD towards the steps, as I pulled Harley back. I could see RD was in pain, he had hurt his shoulder because as he fell he hit some rocks (with his arse hanging out!).

As we got back to the van I looked back and the whole beach had been covered by the huge crashing waves. It had taken less than four minutes and we had been lucky. RD insisted on driving home, and refused to go to the hospital despite being in pain and unable to lift his arm. I am not going to lie, once we were safe, despite my best intentions I could not breathe for laughing every time the picture of RD on his side, with his arse hanging out came into my head. I’m blaming it on nerves.

The next day Wiglet decided to run at something whilst RD was holding her lead on his injured side, pulling his shoulder so hard it cracked and popped back into his socket. Who knew she was a nurse as well as a naughty terrier?! RD’s shoulder is now fine.

Revenge is sweet: my arse as taken by my husband!

So as they say revenge is sweet. As I wrote in my post about our walks I have a chronic injury in my piriformis muscle in my arse, it makes it very difficult to step up, or push myself up. Yesterday we went for a long walk on the beach and followed it all the way round getting to a low part of the bank where RD said ‘Oh look this has even go a foothold for you.’ Now the problem is as I said my injured leg cannot assist my other leg in either pushing or pulling myself up. So there I was stuck. As I tried to get up instead of helping me RD stood behind me taking a series of photos of my dilemma (and arse) and crying with laughter as he did so.

As I tried to get up, hearing him laughing I started to laugh, not good for a woman of a certain age who has had children!

So I suppose the moral of this story, in such dark times, is see the funny side, and don’t take life so seriously. We don’t and we feel all the better for it.

Have a good Sunday folks.

Rosie

Ireland: The New Adventure Begins. A Little Taster

04 Monday Jan 2021

Posted by in For the live of dogs, Ireland, Irish Adventures, Irish Scenes, Learning and Evolving, My family and other furry creatures, new adventures, New Paths, Simple things, The continuing adventure

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Our Daily Walk. Ireland Truly Breathtaking

We arrived at 2am on New Years Day. Moving countries is exhausting, as someone said ‘You do like a big move don’t you?

Well if you’re going to have an adventure you may as well make it a big one!

I have lots to write about, but right now I have to take the dogs out as we cannot let them run free. So I thought I would share with you photos from our ten minute walk to the beach yesterday….breathtaking

The beach, surrounded by snow topped mountains
The Wild Atlantic Way
We’re going on this beach today
The Walk Down To The Beach
We Are Surrounded By This Mountain View
RD walking into the clouds
Sunset On The Beach In Beautiful Donegal
A Happy Man

I think it’s fair to say, I have a knack for finding a view! But that’s not hard on the beautiful emerald Isle.

Rosie

A Little Bit Of Paddy Has Finally Come Home.

03 Sunday Jan 2021

Posted by in Change is a coming, Ireland, Irish Adventures, new adventures, New Paths, poignancy, Reflections, The continuing adventure

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The View From The Boat As We Docked
In Rosslare Ireland

I have so much to blog about not least the journey to our current home in Donegal, Ireland (such a nightmare, but also funny if you have a sense of humour). But first I want to write about my dad, who was a big factor in how we ended up living in Ireland.

It’s taken me a while to write this because I wanted to pay homage to my dad, and every time I thought about what I was going to write my eyes would fill with tears; they are now, but here goes.

My Dad was Patrick Joseph Walsh, you couldn’t get a more Irish name than that! He was a Tipperary man, the youngest of a large Irish family. He lost his mother early when she was sent away due to a sanatorium for mental health issues.

My dad Paddy was a clever man, but education was not an automatic right in the forties in Ireland, and further education was not available to everyone. But despite that my dad won a scholarship to go on to further education, it was a huge prestigious opportunity. Sadly whilst the education was free the uniform and the books needed were not. Despite going cap in hand and asking for help nobody would fund my dad, so terribly disillusioned he left Ireland and set sail for England where he boarded in my nan’s boarding house, met my mum, and the rest they say is history.

When my Irish grandmother (who I never met) was sent away to a sanatorium it was my Auntie Maureen who became my dad’s surrogate mother and so whenever we visited Ireland it was Auntie Maureen that we went to. I still remember today her breakfasts of Irish herby sausages, eggs with the brightest yellow yolks, and her homemade soda bread. Of how she would listen to me (a small gobby child) with a half smile on her face, but she would always listen, a little bemused. Looking back now I realise that perhaps she could see my dad in me, and that is why she always listened. I was always full of ideas, the difference with my dad was that I was more confident than my dad and have always had the ability to not show that I cared what people thought. As I’ve got older I now just don’t care.

Sadly my dad never returned to live in Ireland. My mum wouldn’t go, she wanted to stay with people she knew, no matter how vile some of her family were to her and my dad.

One of my awful, ignorant arrogant uncles would call my dad stupid (let’s not forget he was a ‘Paddy’ after all!) you can probably tell I am not a fan of my mum’s family (with the exception of one aunt). I know now that was insecurity on the uncle’s part, because my dad could see through him, and knew he had more intelligence than the arrogant uncle would ever understand. Ever the ‘quiet man’ my dad said nothing, because he also knew that was the only way to deal with insecure idiots.

Looking back now there was my dad, highly intelligent having to put up with those arseholes, how he must have longed for ‘home’.

So on New Years Eve as the boat was docking in Ireland all those travelling with their dogs were asked to wait on the dog deck, and there we stood with the Welshies, watching as Ireland became a reality. As I stood with RD I could feel a lump rise in my throat and my eyes brimmed with tears, I felt such an overwhelming feeling that I had finally come home. RD looked at me and just got hold of my had, he knew.

It’s hard to explain that feeling, it was so totally unexpected. The last time I visited Ireland was in 1985, when my dad brought us all over for a family holiday. I knew it was beautiful, but I was too young to appreciate just how beautiful it really is.

As I stood on deck I found myself hoping that my dad was standing beside me, with a smile on his face, approving because finally a little piece of him had come home, in me.

This one’s for you Paddy.

Rosie