Recently I returned from Ireland, a trip I've been anxiously awaiting for some time. I, like millions of other Americans, am descended from Irish immigrants. In my case, my paternal Great, Great, Grandmother, Margaret (Peggy), was born in Ireland. From what I can discern, I believe she immigrated to America as a child, probably at the time of the Potato Famine. About three million Irish left during the time of the famine, sailing to America as well as other parts of the world. I certainly thought of Peggy often as I traveled.

My first stop, aside from the Dublin Airport, was the Rock of Cashel (Cashel meaning castle or fortress) in the County of Tipperary, Republic of Ireland, heading south west of Dublin. The Rock is a cluster of Medieval buildings including: a twelfth century round tower, a Romanesque Chapel, a thirteenth century Gothic Cathedral, a 15th century Castle, and a Hall of Vicars Choral (housing for clerics who sang during services). Obviously it was a work in progress for centuries.

An Abbey on The Plains

                                                                           

Front view Rock of Cashel overlooking the Plains of Tipperary, also called the "Golden Vale"

                                                                       

Celtic Crosses