

I grew up in Ireland in the 70’s and up to the mid 80’s. It’s changed so much now and is a tourist town. With 7 children growing up it was tough. We were poor and we struggled. My dad was a dreamer and he often dreamt way beyond his means. He was an architect and spent many hours with his head in his drawing board. He wanted to own his own home so he brought this huge piece of land. It was an old Quarry that needed some serious TLC. I guess it was affordable land back then. It was on a quiet road called Quarry road. It was up in the countryside but it was a mile and half to hike to the bus stop.
Ireland even back then was beautiful. Rolling Hills and always so green. There are tons of old castles half broken down as you drove by with small winding roads with hand made rock walls. If you meet someone you often were backing up to find a spot to pull over for them. The countryside was so beautiful.


As kids we always knew about Leprechauns and up in the Hills are small stone houses that have been painted and they are tipped up. As kids we were always looking for the Leprechauns and the gold at the end of 🌈 rainbows.
We used to go for picnics all of us to the river and we would wade in and someone would always fall into the river. Not a soul was around. We would go to the Wicklow mountains.
My dad loved to fish so every Sunday he would take me fishing with him and he would go in competitions. I would sit and watch him fish or I got to know the people who came to fish. I even fished when I was old enough and I won second prize once. That was very cool.
We would go to a river and you had a net that when you caught your fish, they would go in the net that was in the water and at the end of the competition you would have them weighed and they were thrown back into the river. There were prizes for first, second and third. I got to fish on some great rivers. Once my dad took me into Northern Ireland for a competition. We had to cross the boarder and show our ID. I remember guys with guns and they wanted to check our car so they took out all our seats and everything and threw it in a pile and then we were expected to put it all back together again and drive off.
As we drove on the streets we passed bombed out buildings and when my dad was fishing we could hear bombs in the distance. That scared me a lot. We never went back there again. Sometimes I could hear bombs in the distance while at school or out and about. I can’t imagine being right in the middle of all of that.
I have decided to write a part 2 about living in Ireland. I will write it sometime this week. Thanks for reading so far. 😊








