And on the sixth day we vowed to avoid riding in the car. Our butts had become softer than when they started, and they were leaving imprints in the rental cars. We spent the day staying local to Carndonagh, lounging in the morning, visiting the "play park" in the rain, and touring family sites - the house Alex's grandfather grew up in, the nearby pig farm, and some of the local pubs, looking for more whiskey to taste that can't be found stateside.
Aunt Jen reading to the Bean at the house where we stayed for the week.
Alex pushing Francie on the baby swing at the "play park" in Carndonagh.
Music maker.
Paul, Chris, and Irish cousin Joe at the house where Chris's father grew up.
"I don't like that dead pig. Mama, do you like the dead pig?" No, no I don't. Nor do I like the smell of live pigs.
The Bean and her new friends.
Cows are in the meadows ...
... eating buttercups.
Old Doherty family photos, circa 1919 or so. We think Alex's grandfather is the little boy being held in the rocking chair.
Terrible photo, but of the original kitchen, all cast iron, in the house where Grandpa John grew up.
Grandpa John's childhood house from the outside.
One of the old buildings was converted into a Christmas site. And we happened to visit on June 25th, so Merry Half-Christmas!
Out and about in Carndonagh. Here at McClure's Pub.
Whiskey whiskey and more whiskey. And Guinness and Smithwicks.
Mama date for fish and chips.
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