Friday, October 7, 2016

Genealogy, shopping, and country life


Today, Fred drove to Castlebar to visit the library and ferret out more genealogical information. I walked down to the town and visited some shops. I bought some souvenirs, wee gifts for friends, and a nice gift for myself — a hand-made penannular brooch. 

We caught up with each other on the street a little after 12, went for tea and cake at our favourite coffee shop, then visited the Museum of Country Life in Turlough. It’s one of Ireland’s four national museums, and the only one outside of Dublin.

It was a fascinating museum, and like all the Irish national museums, free of charge. We learned about traditional ways of life in Ireland from the early 1800s. 

We loved seeing the intricate baskets people made out of available plant material — they made everything out of it, including horse collars and saddles, hen nests and furniture made of straw, boats made of woven reeds, and lobster traps made of heather twigs. We both tried out a woven straw chair, and found it very comfortable.



Woven hen nest
We saw different thatching materials and techniques for roofs, and learned about Irish folk architecture; we learned about household tools and cooking techniques, and how they grew their potatoes; and we discovered lots of interesting details on the way people lived, including their folklore and superstitions. For example, the woman of the house would use metal tongs to tend the fire. If she had to leave the house for any reason, she would lay the tongs across the baby’s cradle so fairies wouldn’t steal the baby. 

One thing the museum displays really emphasized was that for the majority of Irish people in the 1800s, life was hard. The craft techniques that are considered a bit chic today, like basket weaving and rope making, were a matter of day-to-day survival for Irish farm people in the 19th century.


We ended the day with a walk to town and a bite to eat in Cobbler’s Bar (the left bit of the yellow building pictured below). The space used to be the local cobbler’s shop, but when he retired, the hotel next door took it over.


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