Read this first: Rick's Introduction to this Blog!

OK, I’m not into modern instant communication. Instead I wallow in the event, then try to recall later what made it special.

For this trip I made a point of putting everyday life behind me. That’s not something I do very often, being in-the-moment most of the time for the last 70 years or so, but before the flicker of memory fades (helped by copious photos) here’s a summary of what was by any standards one of the Best Birthday Trips ever.

By my standards and experience it was The Best, and it’s all due to Ellen’s planning and the participation of, in no particular order (except for Ellen, who comes first):

Ellen, my wife, without whom this wouldn’t have happened, in oh, so many ways. She found Springfield Castle (which I hope you learn to appreciate as much as we did) and assembled the Forces that made it happen

My older son Allen, his wife Cora (who manages this blog, thank you very much) and their son Desmond (the little blonde guy you’ll see many times in this recounting)

Ben Kiblinger, my stepson, his wife Rhonda and my redheaded grandkids Hannah and Jacob

Danny Callahan and Charlene, Rhonda’s sister, and their kids Bella and Zelik (who became Desmond’s best-buddy during the week)

My brother Jeff, his wife Liz and their girls Paulina and Abigail (she prefers “Abby”)

Ellen’s cousins Peg Sandlin and Tom Fitzgerald, and their respective spouses John (i.e., Sandlin) and Michelle (i.e., Fitzgerald).

Missing from the trip were my younger son, Michael, his wife Annie Leahy and their son Hugh. They were planning to come but the imminent arrival of another grandson, known to us as Spike before official arrival, precluded their travel – they’ll get lots of new ideas for Irish names from this narrative.

It amounted to 21 people in Springfield Castle, near Dromcollogher, Co. Limerick.

[A writer’s note on Irish spelling … it’s optional. Names are taken from Gaelic,  which makes spotting road signs pretty interesting, let alone tracing families. For instance, Ellen’s father John Paul Luddy’s Irish ancestors are named Leddy. In other words, read names phonetically.]

The trip was originally contrived by Ellen as a surprise, fortunately revealed by a mis-addressed e-mail a year ago. Ellen asked if I regretted the surprise being spoiled. My response was simple: ‘Let’s see … a one-time surprise, or a year of anticipation and planning? I think that is an easy answer.”

And it was fun to plan and anticipate, but unlike most long-anticipated events the realization was way better than the surprise could ever have been.

On to the narrative.

[Come back later for more. There is video, but it’s being edited and will have to be added later.]