Ditch
Active member
Ok. This was one of the first 'Explores' that Dean' O and I set out to crack over the past 'Long Weekend'. He'd actually mentioned this place to me years ago. But, as it was just in the context of some derelict cottage, somewhere out there in the wider world, I just sort of accepted that this was another of those things Dean had the drop on me about.
See, while Dean O's actually less than half my age, he's lived here much of his own life. Me? I'm a newb. Only been here three years now. And I've spent that entire three years following the same old pattern; Travelling down the road into town, and back. A to B. B to A. Never really deviated. No reason to. Wouldn't know where I was heading. I'd probably just use up energy and time.
Oh, and I should just point one other thing out here; Dean O' can Drive. Has done for years. Couple a young man with a motor into a place simply formed of endless, twisting, un named, single lane tracks to 'Ballygodknowswhere' and I guess ye get one thing; Plonk an older, heart diseased as hell, knackered old fart in the same position? " Taxi!!! Yes, please. I want to get into town ..... ". Thus I've spent three years Gagging to stop off and Explore a Pill Box along the road there. Too far to walk. Too expensive to stop around for
But I digress ..... Dean O's a bit of a 'Gun Freak'. Guns do things for Dean ~ ye know what I'm saying? 'Un Healthy F*cking Interest!'. But, hey, we all have our ways, eh? More on mine later. But, this all revolves around a .303 round. Yeppers. I'm finally settling into my story now. The .303 round. The Solicitor. The Gypsys ..... Nah. Never mind that bit. I'll tell ye about that later. Else where.
So; Dean's come to me one time, not so long ago, and told me how he's found this Live .303 round. Says he was mouching around in some derelict, disused cottage and found it stood up there, on a window sill.
Yeah. Ye thinking like I was thinking! Co. Leitrim is a Border County. Uh huh ..... Just up the road from us is Ballinamore. Even today, ye'd be better Not to stop off for a drink there. The locals smile at Brit's, sure. Because I don't believe they ever found that guys body!
But, that was 'Back in the day'. This is 'Yesterday'. But it was Still a Live .303 round. And it was placed, Recently, on a window sill. In THIS cottage .....
Did That have ye thinking? Well, Ok. Dean O' and I rather Had each other 'Thinking' over this one too! Only, then we were chatting to Gerry, a local Solicitor, one night in the Local and a far more mundane truth came out: Seems Gerry's Dad owns the land this wreck stands on. 'Somehow', el Path', our Dean O', got the conversation round to things that make big holes appear ~ in people ~ and this damn .303 round came up.
Gerry, with smiling innocence, peed all over our dark suspicions. He explained that an area close by had been used as a Firing Range by one or another perfectly regular (I take it; Though I Am death as a post!) army. So it was that people were for ever picking up bullets around there. Natural breathing of the earth simply sucked them in, then spat them out. But, yeppers: Place was a virtual ammo dump. And someone had obviously found one. Wandered along examining it. Then just placed it on the window ledge of the old cottage.
Oh well. It was better, while it lasted, eh? And so, sadly, I'm sure this particular Explore was. Dean O' was rather crest fallen to find just how far it had collapsed in the last bear year. But we did our best. Here's the rest of my shots. I'll annotate them for ye. Though much of what I might say will be my best 'educated guess'. I'm not That up on these things, yet .....
This is where I first scrambled over the bramble covered rocks, grasping tenuously at a completely rotten cupboards back, to get a view inside. I figure this must have formed the 'Parlour', or maybe even the kitchen? I'm really not sure. It seems to be a small room. The kitchen, in these places, often being bigger than the parlours. The kitchen certainly forming the centre of family home life, after a day of hellish labour. 'Food, Feet up and F*ck It; I'm Knackered!'
The eye naturally follows up to this. More so because we'd come in from the opposite end of the structure. There a quite different chimney had caught my eye.
First though, here's a shot of the stone work, typical of the entire building. This is how people built their own homes, a century or so back. They just grubbed up stones, such as I have all over my own land, where ever I decide to drive a fence post!What ever vast, cataclysmic force of nature tore Eire from the greater, Continental land plates certainly had some effects.
Our mountains were forged. Great areas of solid rock thrusting out of the earth. Like some fist of an entombed and angry god. The 'Dust', thrown out by these monumental eruptions of primeval and prehistoric natural force, was scattered far and wide. Rolled and spread yet further by the seemingly almost non stop and torrential rains.
This environment then, forged by the ruthless hand of unforgiving nature, produced and moulded the hardy folk so proud to call themselves native Irish. And it was they who hefted stone upon stone. Bonded only with sparse, rough sand dug from river beds and mixed with the Lime they produced in Kilns ~ such as shown Here ~ and there lived lives of rigour and toil.
Old horse 'Blinkers'. Found resting in what would have been a cupboard. Their size suggests, to me, they may have been more suited to a donkey than a horse. The donkey too having been a central part of the old way of life here. No tractors in those days. Not for the working man. The donkey would have represented the family motor and more. The Dog may be 'Mans Best Friend'. But the donkey ~ and I have both here ~ could, and would, pull a weight far in excess of his meagre bill of keep.
In this time of 'Prairie Farms', when vast acreages are turned over to plains of Oil Seed Rape, waving vistas of Wheat, etc. It may be hard to envisage a Farmer setting out before dawn to plod about hand thrown rows of spuds. A copper tank strapped to his back, with leather straps. Endlessly cranking a lever, with one hand, while waving a wand with the other. Spraying his crops. It still goes on today. As it did, back then. Just no more around this old home cottage.
Ok. Hands up. I'd initially labelled the above shot as " Window Shutters ". Are they actually Shutters? I honestly don't know. I couldn't see clearly enough whether they'd ever have been able to perform that function. But, I noticed the knob. As if to move them by.
My own place shows no sign of ever having been shuttered. But, I certainly could have used some, prior to having this 'Double Glazing' installed! I wonder if shutters were the 'posh / better off mans' UPVDG of the last century?
Found beside the main fireplace. Of course, it might have been moved from anywhere. But; Who would move a chair far from the fire?
Adjoining directly onto the ' Kitchen'. I'd say this would've been the bedroom of this place. Unfortunately, between my own excitement and inexperience at 'Exploring', matched with the sheer state of dereliction here? I just didn't think to step back and consider such logistics.
To add to my, now, consternation, I believe this is where I found the old .....
'Unattainable Grail' of so many " Wiccans ", who wouldn't know the meaning of a bad harvest from " Insufficient Funds ", over there. Over here? About as rare as misplaced spectacles at a small supermarkets cash till.
But, now back to the beginning. The first thing that caught my eye, as we approached this place;
This, inside, forms the rather rough and ready flue for an otherwise unmarked fire place. There's nothing else to indicate its existence or purpose. Except a steel bar set across the point above where the fire must have been. Look:
Set into the furthest corner of the biggest 'room'. A bar set, obviously to hang something over that fire. Yet, the " Kiddle Crane " ~ as I was brought up to know the 'Kettle Hanging Iron', be it in a cottage, or over a camp fire ~ always appears to be positioned in the bigger, 'walk in' fire places here. Those built into the structure of the original building.
What on earth was this fire place and its tin chimney all about? Enquiring minds .....
There. And That should about sort out Anything raised in the 4th, 5th and 7th posts, below? May we start again, gentlemen?
See, while Dean O's actually less than half my age, he's lived here much of his own life. Me? I'm a newb. Only been here three years now. And I've spent that entire three years following the same old pattern; Travelling down the road into town, and back. A to B. B to A. Never really deviated. No reason to. Wouldn't know where I was heading. I'd probably just use up energy and time.
Oh, and I should just point one other thing out here; Dean O' can Drive. Has done for years. Couple a young man with a motor into a place simply formed of endless, twisting, un named, single lane tracks to 'Ballygodknowswhere' and I guess ye get one thing; Plonk an older, heart diseased as hell, knackered old fart in the same position? " Taxi!!! Yes, please. I want to get into town ..... ". Thus I've spent three years Gagging to stop off and Explore a Pill Box along the road there. Too far to walk. Too expensive to stop around for
But I digress ..... Dean O's a bit of a 'Gun Freak'. Guns do things for Dean ~ ye know what I'm saying? 'Un Healthy F*cking Interest!'. But, hey, we all have our ways, eh? More on mine later. But, this all revolves around a .303 round. Yeppers. I'm finally settling into my story now. The .303 round. The Solicitor. The Gypsys ..... Nah. Never mind that bit. I'll tell ye about that later. Else where.
So; Dean's come to me one time, not so long ago, and told me how he's found this Live .303 round. Says he was mouching around in some derelict, disused cottage and found it stood up there, on a window sill.
Yeah. Ye thinking like I was thinking! Co. Leitrim is a Border County. Uh huh ..... Just up the road from us is Ballinamore. Even today, ye'd be better Not to stop off for a drink there. The locals smile at Brit's, sure. Because I don't believe they ever found that guys body!
But, that was 'Back in the day'. This is 'Yesterday'. But it was Still a Live .303 round. And it was placed, Recently, on a window sill. In THIS cottage .....
Ground Zero
Did That have ye thinking? Well, Ok. Dean O' and I rather Had each other 'Thinking' over this one too! Only, then we were chatting to Gerry, a local Solicitor, one night in the Local and a far more mundane truth came out: Seems Gerry's Dad owns the land this wreck stands on. 'Somehow', el Path', our Dean O', got the conversation round to things that make big holes appear ~ in people ~ and this damn .303 round came up.
Gerry, with smiling innocence, peed all over our dark suspicions. He explained that an area close by had been used as a Firing Range by one or another perfectly regular (I take it; Though I Am death as a post!) army. So it was that people were for ever picking up bullets around there. Natural breathing of the earth simply sucked them in, then spat them out. But, yeppers: Place was a virtual ammo dump. And someone had obviously found one. Wandered along examining it. Then just placed it on the window ledge of the old cottage.
Oh well. It was better, while it lasted, eh? And so, sadly, I'm sure this particular Explore was. Dean O' was rather crest fallen to find just how far it had collapsed in the last bear year. But we did our best. Here's the rest of my shots. I'll annotate them for ye. Though much of what I might say will be my best 'educated guess'. I'm not That up on these things, yet .....
Main Fireplace
This is where I first scrambled over the bramble covered rocks, grasping tenuously at a completely rotten cupboards back, to get a view inside. I figure this must have formed the 'Parlour', or maybe even the kitchen? I'm really not sure. It seems to be a small room. The kitchen, in these places, often being bigger than the parlours. The kitchen certainly forming the centre of family home life, after a day of hellish labour. 'Food, Feet up and F*ck It; I'm Knackered!'
Main Chimney
The eye naturally follows up to this. More so because we'd come in from the opposite end of the structure. There a quite different chimney had caught my eye.
Stone Work
First though, here's a shot of the stone work, typical of the entire building. This is how people built their own homes, a century or so back. They just grubbed up stones, such as I have all over my own land, where ever I decide to drive a fence post!What ever vast, cataclysmic force of nature tore Eire from the greater, Continental land plates certainly had some effects.
Our mountains were forged. Great areas of solid rock thrusting out of the earth. Like some fist of an entombed and angry god. The 'Dust', thrown out by these monumental eruptions of primeval and prehistoric natural force, was scattered far and wide. Rolled and spread yet further by the seemingly almost non stop and torrential rains.
This environment then, forged by the ruthless hand of unforgiving nature, produced and moulded the hardy folk so proud to call themselves native Irish. And it was they who hefted stone upon stone. Bonded only with sparse, rough sand dug from river beds and mixed with the Lime they produced in Kilns ~ such as shown Here ~ and there lived lives of rigour and toil.
A Poignant Reminder
Old horse 'Blinkers'. Found resting in what would have been a cupboard. Their size suggests, to me, they may have been more suited to a donkey than a horse. The donkey too having been a central part of the old way of life here. No tractors in those days. Not for the working man. The donkey would have represented the family motor and more. The Dog may be 'Mans Best Friend'. But the donkey ~ and I have both here ~ could, and would, pull a weight far in excess of his meagre bill of keep.
Spud Sprayer
In this time of 'Prairie Farms', when vast acreages are turned over to plains of Oil Seed Rape, waving vistas of Wheat, etc. It may be hard to envisage a Farmer setting out before dawn to plod about hand thrown rows of spuds. A copper tank strapped to his back, with leather straps. Endlessly cranking a lever, with one hand, while waving a wand with the other. Spraying his crops. It still goes on today. As it did, back then. Just no more around this old home cottage.
Window Sides ~ Inside
Ok. Hands up. I'd initially labelled the above shot as " Window Shutters ". Are they actually Shutters? I honestly don't know. I couldn't see clearly enough whether they'd ever have been able to perform that function. But, I noticed the knob. As if to move them by.
My own place shows no sign of ever having been shuttered. But, I certainly could have used some, prior to having this 'Double Glazing' installed! I wonder if shutters were the 'posh / better off mans' UPVDG of the last century?
The Chair Shot
Found beside the main fireplace. Of course, it might have been moved from anywhere. But; Who would move a chair far from the fire?
" The Small Room "
Adjoining directly onto the ' Kitchen'. I'd say this would've been the bedroom of this place. Unfortunately, between my own excitement and inexperience at 'Exploring', matched with the sheer state of dereliction here? I just didn't think to step back and consider such logistics.
To add to my, now, consternation, I believe this is where I found the old .....
Cooking Pot
'Unattainable Grail' of so many " Wiccans ", who wouldn't know the meaning of a bad harvest from " Insufficient Funds ", over there. Over here? About as rare as misplaced spectacles at a small supermarkets cash till.
But, now back to the beginning. The first thing that caught my eye, as we approached this place;
The Iron Chimney
This, inside, forms the rather rough and ready flue for an otherwise unmarked fire place. There's nothing else to indicate its existence or purpose. Except a steel bar set across the point above where the fire must have been. Look:
Fire Place To Tin Chimney
Set into the furthest corner of the biggest 'room'. A bar set, obviously to hang something over that fire. Yet, the " Kiddle Crane " ~ as I was brought up to know the 'Kettle Hanging Iron', be it in a cottage, or over a camp fire ~ always appears to be positioned in the bigger, 'walk in' fire places here. Those built into the structure of the original building.
What on earth was this fire place and its tin chimney all about? Enquiring minds .....
There. And That should about sort out Anything raised in the 4th, 5th and 7th posts, below? May we start again, gentlemen?
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