Grannymar

Taking the camera for a walk in Lucan

If you don’t fit, put the camera through the the gate…

Gate Lodge at Italian Embassy

I enjoyed my walk through Lucan but not the difficulty of finding a parking place!

Wednesday was a very unusual day and it is no wonder I was all of a fluster when the phone went that evening. That is where you joined the day. It had something to do with lights!

Earlier I was being stalked by a Toyboy. He was very persistent and would not take no for an answer. My mother warned me about guys like that. He won in the end when he said ‘But you’re a photoblogger now, there’s no going back!’ I suppose that is the price I have to pay for chasing Toyboys So now I am a groupie!

Will, one of my long-time Toyboys said:

‘There is more than one way to do it’ He was talking about taking Photographs!

So when presented with something that has appeared on countless postcards, look around it for other angles of approach. Even buildings have personalities, and personal quirks. See if you can find them? Look carefully and you might find an angle where the dour faced statue looks like its smiling.

With this in mind I headed out, no dour statues on this journey so I had a go like this

Grannymar is an ‘older’ Blogger, Photoblogger, sometimes Podcaster and owner of an O2 N95, proving that technology, like sex is not the prerogative of the under 30 something’s! Gwan give it a go! You know you want to.

On Saturday I did something new. A FIRST for me. I wormed my way into a Photo walk. I was aware of several going on in Dublin over the past few months, but unfortunately I was never able to attend. Then I heard of one in Belfast….

Following my attempts at photo walking on my own I was given plenty of encouragement to join the boys! So for the second day in a row I was to be found here

I was looking for Toyboys sporting cameras. I wore out the grass walking around the statue of Queen Victoria. Plenty of guys, all with bags but not a camera in sight. Not to be outdone I walked up to a group and said “Are you here for the photo walk”? They smiled politely and said yes. I told them who I was and the smiles grew and I was made very welcome. The group grew and I nearly lost count, now let me see… there was Adam, Andy, Phil, Scott and Stepbar. Oops! That makes five.. Grannymar is losing her touch because there were eight Toyboys. My apologies to those whose names I have missed.

The Continental Fair was in progress again on Saturday so we started there. When we satisfied ourselves with pictures and food the idea was to move on to the Botanic/Queen’s University area, alas the walk that far was outside my energy span so I said my farewells and headed home satisfied with my first effort to be a Flickerer!

If you are interested in seeing some more of my shots they are to be found at belfast flickr meetup

The very first time daddy brought us to see a round tower it seemed to touch the sky and you needed a rope ladder to reach the door which was a long way off the ground. The window holes were like slits and had no glass in them, so it must have been very draughty and dark inside. A round tower was like a round room and it was not as wide as our house. In my head it seemed only as wide as our toilet, well that was the smallest room in our house (separate to the bathroom) and I needed to get things in proportion.

I seem to remember being told then that round towers were originally built to protect our ancestors from raiders such as Vikings.

My childish mind worked overtime when I thought about it. To begin with I was small for my age when I was young, my father and uncles were all over 6ft tall. If they were standing when they spoke to me I had to look a long way up to see their faces. When we were near the tower daddy didn’t reach the bottom of the door. I hoped there would be no more Vikings. I didn’t want to climb up there.

Anyway, if we did manage to get inside how could we all fit? Maybe I would be lifted up onto someone’s shoulders. The round room went way up to the sky remember, so there would be lots of people standing on other peoples shoulders! What would I do if a heavy person was standing on my shoulders? It would be terrible if their feet were dirty and smelly. Again I hoped there would be no more raiders.

What brought this on?

You may well ask!

At the weekend I went out for a walk in the sunshine and on my travels I saw this round tower:

In 1866 James Chaine, the son of a prosperous linen merchant from Co Antrim, bought the Larne harbour with a down payment of £9,000. He repaired the existing pier and quays and had them extended and developed a rail link to the Port. In 1871 the Larne and Stranraer Steamboat Company was formed and a new paddle steamer the Princess Louise commenced a regular service between the two ports on 1^st July 1872.

A mail route was established in 1875 and a trans-Atlantic service between Glasgow, Larne and New York began in 1873. Using the renowned State Line vessels, this service continued until December 1889 and many hundreds of emigrants left Larne to start a new life in America.

James Chaine died from pneumonia in 1885 at the age of 44 and as a mark of respect the people of Larne and district raised funds by public subscription to build the Chaine Memorial Tower which dominates the entrance to the harbour.

Yesterday I went for a walk. The sun was shining but being a very cold day I wrapped up well. The direction was planned before leaving home. Learning from my blogging friends I now bring my camera with me. Ok, to some of you it is a toy camera but it caters to my very amateurish needs.

Many years ago Co Antrim in Northern Ireland played a major part in the Linen Industry. Scattered across the Countryside are the skeletons of Flax and linen Mills.

Amongst the trees is an old Flax Mill, no longer used for treating flax. The major part of the building is now derelict, but work of some form takes place in smaller newer buildings at the rear.

I love the character of the place and always wonder why so many places are allowed to die and new faceless buildings erected close by. Surely with modern methods it should be possible to at least keep the shell and modernise the interior.

Further along the road is a dam, one of three that were used to wash the flax before it was then laid out in the fields to dry and bleach. This is the only dam now at the mill the others were drained and filled in years ago.

A stream runs alongside the main building and further upstream it borders private land and has been landscaped.

Shortly after taking these shots a shower of bitter hail stung my face and I returned to the warmth and comfort of home.

Last week post excitement, I spent a couple of days with my Aunt. On Tuesday she was busy so I amused myself for a few hours. On my travels I met this fine fellow.

He was being rather friendly and singing to me. I think he was hungry or maybe a little greedy because he could smell these

Remembering I was hungry, I went on my way and found a nice restaurant where I had some leek and potato soup followed by Calamari. While I was eating there was an unmerciful downpour outside so I lingered over coffee until it passed.

I ventured outside with the return of the sunshine and walked a little further to get a good view of this Lighthouse.

This might be the boat that brought the fish ashore. I walked to the end of the pier and back. I love the smell of the sea and this harbour was always a favourite walk at any time of year when I was young.

On Thursday evenings we often bought our fish straight from the boats, sometimes going home to cook it for a late supper.

The harbour has changed and modernised but I still enjoy it.

As the banner on the boat says C’est la Vie!

A few weeks ago I was away for a few days it was a quiet break in the country. I went out walking one morning, and lo and behold, who do you think I saw? Now I pulled the scarf tightly under my chin and kept my head down. Over a wall between a chicken run and a pigsty I saw Him – yes the one and only Grandad. I was sure it was himself by the way he was muttering. I stooped down behind the wall to listen to what he was saying.

It went like this:

“I’m the life and soul of the party…… even if it lasts until 8 p.m.
I’m very good at opening childproof caps… with a hammer.
I’m usually interested in going home before I get to where I am going.
I’m awake many hours before my body allows me to get up.
I’m smiling all the time because I can’t hear a thing you’re saying.
I’m very good at telling stories; over and over and over and over…
I’m aware that other people’s grandchildren are not nearly as cute as mine.
I’m so cared for — long term care, eye care, private care, dental care.

I’m not really grouchy,

I just don’t like traffic, waiting, crowds, lawyers, loud music, unruly kids and Toyota commercials, barking dogs, politicians and a few other things I can’t seem to remember right now.

I’m sure everything I can’t find is in a safe secure place, somewhere.
I’m wrinkled, saggy, lumpy, and that’s just my left leg.
I’m having trouble remembering simple words like…….

I’m beginning to realize that aging is not for wimps.
I’m sure they are making adults much younger these days, and when did they let kids become policemen?
I’m wondering, if you’re only as old as you feel, how could I be alive at 150?
And, how can my kids be older than I feel sometimes?

I’m a walking storeroom of facts….. I’ve just lost the key to the storeroom door.”