Wrapping Up France

Denise, Sadie and I roamed the streets of Paris and after awhile we learned how to blend in with the locals and not look like tourist.
As an appraiser I marveled in the spectacular architecture everywhere we went and the pure sense of history with every step we took.
History, immense monuments and great restaurants fill Paris. (All you folks back home need to know that it is true that they eat snails over here, and no I did not eat one of the horrible things.)

We finally made the Eiffel Tower and you can not tell how tall it is from the pictures. I measured it with my eye when I reached the very top and it is at least 4 miles high, I swear. There were 10,000 people roaming around the little decks they have on it. Pretty Hairy, but you can see for 50 miles and I did not go to Paris to not climb it. We spent an hour or so gazing at the wonderful city below us and then it was time to go see the rest of the city.

We visited a wonderful Church called The Sacred Heart, we went to the Pantheon where the great writers of history were buried and roamed the crypts. We saw spires and statues and even had a wonderful picnic with Sadie in the Luxembourg Gardens. There is a lot of wine drinking there considering that Cokes were $10.
Finally we reached Notre Dame Cathedral, and as we approached I could see that Quasimodo guy jumping around the bells and gargoyles and making a nuisance of himself. I thought I saw some giant antlers up there too.
Entering Notre Dame, you get a real sense of holiness and wonder. It is so beautiful that you can not believe that it was built by man without Divine Guidance.
I said a prayer and lit a candle there for my mother.
I did not get to talk with the bellringer, I do think he spit at me from the tower though. The sense of wonder and renewed faith from just entering the great cathedral still holds with me though and I will return to visit it again.
Notre Dame
the Sacred Heart
A Great Time

Vacationing With Thunderhoof

""No!" I told that stupid deer to stay home and not follow me on vacation. Did he? Of course not. I arrived in Ireland at the Ashford Castle and before dark I heard him splashing around in the fountains. Did the mangement get on to him? No! He spent half his time splashing around with the Lake Monster, racing ghostly suits of armor though the courtyard at all hours, running up and down the country bragging about his homeland and trying to slip up and drink my Guinness. Plus the beautiful Irish lasses loved him. Made me ill.

Finally, Denise and I thought we gave him the slip, but our first morning in France he was standing on the corner wearing a French beret. Yes, those French women mobbed him as usual. He did not get to go up the Eiffel Tower with us. He was too big for the elevator and you could hear crowds ohhing and ahhing over him as he stood crunching and popping chestnuts everywhere we went.


Thunderhoof said he had known that Napolean fellow and he wanted to show us the sites, especially an old sculpture done of him as a kid. They let him in the Louvre free of charge, something about being a national monument. I almost threw up, but did get a pic of Denise with the varmints sculpture.

Lurking At The Louvre

After a forced march across Paris, we arrived at the front of the Louvre. I have heard all my life about that Moaning Lisa girl and I wanted to check her out for myself. Being a self-styled expert on women moaning, I wanted to find out exactly what kind of moans she made. Here is a pic of us in the gigantic park in front of the palaces that make up the museum.

We had to wander through gallery after gallery of all kind of paintings, sculptures and artifacts that no one cares about until we reached the gallery that had her in it. There were about a million people in there. I got as close as I could. All my friends back in Mississippi need to know that she never moaned at all. Not a sound, even though she kind of gave me the eye before I left. Here is Denise and Sadie laughing at me for some reason.

I was disappointed of course but there was another hot chick somewhere in the gigantic museum that I wanted to visit, so we headed back through the museum to find her. We wandered through more gallerys of artsy stuff that no one cares about until we got to the Greco-Roman gallery and there she was standing in the middle of the crowd. Her name is Venus-de-Milo. She was not wearing a top and I have to admit she was pretty hot for a woman with no arms. She secretly slipped me her number while Denise was not looking and we headed outside to see if we could go up that big lightning rod in the center of Paris known as the Eiffel Tower.

French Beyond Belief

The next day we were up and at 'em. Sadie picked us up and we headed toward the center of Paris. We went down a flight of stairs and did you know that they have trains under the ground? I know, me neither. We hopped on one of these and the next thing I know we are coming up right in front of the Arc de Triomph We stared at this tremendous Arc and tried to cross the street. It would be a triumph to do so without getting killed. The monument has a circular street around it and the cars were whizzing along at 80 or 90 mph. Finally we found a tunnel that goes under the street and got to it. You can not tell how immense it is from pictures. That Napolean knew what he was doing. Breath taking architecture and the true symbol of France. It celebrates all the victorious Armies of France and the unknown soldier. Spectacular!
We headed south and I kept watching the gigantic Eiffel Tower that stands over the city. Walking the streets and going through the small parks I noticed that all these areas were lined or filled with the same kind of trees.
On closer inspection I found that they were all Chestnut trees. The huge nuts were everywhere! The whole city is filled with them! We ended up by the river and found a familiar flame sticking out of the pavement. It is directly over the spot where Princess Diana died and has become a makeshift memorial to her.
We crossed the bridge and let me tell you, every bridge there is a work of art. Towering statues of gold, bronze and copper adorn them and small canal boats drift the ancient River. Sadie was wonderful but all those people spoke a foreign language, so we could not fiollow everything that was going on. Saw Gypsies that tried to convince you they just found a ring and spent a lot of time begging or selling cheap souvenirs. People walked the street all day and night enjoying the city, and we stopped at a lot of outdoor cafes'. They did not have Guinness.

A Deer Hunter In Paris

We boarded Ryan Air in Shannon, Ireland. This is great if you are traveling light but the fine print we did not read said $15 Euros per pound over 20lbs. I will not tell how Denise went ballistic and almost shut down the airport.
We got on the plane. Off to Paris!

I swear to God we landed in the middle of a cornfield at a WWI fighter base. Lots of quonset huts and surrounded by corn, then we found out that it was an hour bus ride to Paris. Load Up, meet Sadie, this was not looking good and then, hello Terrass Hotel.
Before I go any further, I do want to say that PARIS was fantastic. It really is everything that you have heard. Sadie speaks fluent French and that really, really helped too. Late that day we headed to the hills in town called the Montmartre district. This is an art and tourist area and we enjoyed our first sidewalk cafe'.
I felt myself relaxing, but I had some things to do in Paris that were important. 1)- I was going to meet a certain bellringer for a talk. 2)- I was going to go see that Moaning Lisa girl. 3)- They had a big tower there that was supposed to be impressive (like it's higher than the water tower back home) and a few other things that I am curious about too.
We were off to a great start!

Squirrel Camp Letter

The squirrel camp letter has been mailed to all of our guest. This is Dads' favorite weekend and he loves having all of his friends enjoy the camaraderie and fun at the camp. Plus, they serve the best squirrel and dumplings you ever tasted.
If you come hunt, please be sure not to hunt near the big ridge on the south end of the property. We are having a lot of trouble with a big monkey that is causing all kinds of trouble over there. You would not want to accidently pop him with squirrel shot, you might regret it.

Bowhunting Opener

Archery season has started in Mississippi and it looks like the famous Christmas Place is off to a roaring start. My cousin Burney and his friend Eddie Mangum showed up and got things off to a quick start. While going to check stands, they ran into a porcine problem of immense proportions. A whole herd of wild hogs ran out in front of them and Burney quickly grabbed his .357 pistol and cut loose! 2 dead and one wounded. An eye opener for our bowhunters to be sure.
The next morning Eddie was surrounded by deer. His statement was they were too close. Pssst, pssst, psst, arrows went everywhere, all the deer escaped including a nice 8-point. That afternoon Burney connected on a really big doe of 145lbs. and the first deer was on the pole.
Eddie snored through the night,and regained his strength and shooting form. He got a small doe the next morning, even though there was some belief that he stole it from the alligator that was also spotted over the weekend.

Dads' Birthday

We celebrated my fathers' birthday over at my Aunt Mellys' home this pst week. My Aunt has a lovely home in Oxford and it is big enough to have all the family in for special occassions. She is a wonder.
Dad is 82 and tough as a cob. He still hunts and goes fishing and will work you to death. He is as amazing as my Aunt.
We had a great time and Dad received some nice gifts to use this winter.
(PS- I would hate to be in a footrace with either of those two.)

A Special "Happy Birthday"

It is Friday and before I leave for the weekend, Denise and I want to say a very special thank you and Happy Birthday to her daughter Sadie Brodey. Next week I will write about our trip to France and how much fun we had, mostly due to the efforts of Sadie. She showed us, and guided us to every wonderful site in Paris. She also spoke fluent French which saved us a tremendous amount of aggravation.
Thank you and Happy Birthday- Rex and Denise (Mom)

Mysterious Kylemore Abbey

I really enjoyed our trip to Ireland, but deep in my heart I held back the fact that I really wanted to do some research of a strange tale that I had picked up concerning the famous Kylemore Abbey.
Here is a pic of our host, John and Cindy Dooner in front of the mysterious Abbey.



The builder of the Abbey started it as his own personal castle, but during the building it seems that he fell under the influence of a strange group of monks that lived in the steep mountains behind the famous site. Soon these strange religious zealots took over and it was made into an Abbey for their use.
No one to this day knows exactly what their beliefs were but many rumors state that one day they just disappeared from the Abbey never to be seen again. Rumors are that they returned to the high mountains, or settled on the southern coast of Ireland, but another rumor is that they quietly booked passage to America to New Orleans and from there headed up the Mississippi River only to disappear into history.
Could the rumor and strange tale of The Black Abbey be the same group of monks?
You read the strange tale and tell me what you think.

1000th Post

This is my 1000th post, and I am still eager and glad to be here. Thanks to everyone that has stuck with me by reading or linking. Again, thank you all.
Some pics for your thoughts and entertainment.
Chad and Eddie Mangum with a big 6 lb. bass they recently caught. Chad got wounded last weekend at the camp but will be ready to blast a big buck in a few weeks.
Hotty Toddy! Rebs 31 Gators 30 The national cover of Sports Illustrated.

The splendor of Ashford Castle

RebelYank Meets The Quiet Man

The very first thing you realize when you get to Ireland is that the people there are absoulutely wonderful. You can lean against the bar and drink a pint and listen to them talk all day long. They speak in the wonderful rolling and lilting brogue you have always heard of and imagined, and they are a truly open, honest, friendly and proud people that were a delight to be around. EVERY person we met in Ireland was great. They really treated us well, from the Ashford Castle management and service people to the average man on the street. A lovely and delightful people.

The interesting thing about Ashford Castle and the village of cong is that they are intensely proud of the fact that the movie "The Quiet Man" was filmed there. Very little has changed and everywhere you walk in the area is exactly where the film was actually shot. In fact the Quiet Man Fan Club has many pictures and info on the movie, plus the story of how Cohans' Bar has finally been opened there. (they have Guinness too!)
The Irish people seemed to think I talked strangely with a bit of a drawl and when I explained I was a Yank from the deep South, I quickly became the RebelYank. They would even ease over to listen to me talk. Most afternoons the group of us would meet and have drinks in the lounge and the service people and management treated us all like royalty. A lot of fun for Denise and myself and I will never forget their quick friendship and wonderful happiness. Hope I can return one day.

An Irish Vision

Ashford castle sits in the middle of practically nowhere against the little village of Cong. It is spectacularly beautiful and great to let the pressure of work to slowly ebb away as you relax.
It sits at the edge of a great lake and the waters are clear and clean. The grounds are magnificent with walking trails and hidden gardens to delight the eye.

There is a nice little 9-hole golf course in front that we played. We spent a lot of time exploring the grounds and did a little falconing. A truly exciting and interesting sport as they would land on your arm and then take off again. Here Denise and our friend Patti Penski cautiously admire the great falcons.


We shot skeet, which was a lot of fun as the shotgun we used was a perfectly balanced over-and-under-Browning that fit the eye perfectly and everyone got the hang of it very quickly and we managed to blast them pretty well. I think we got the limit. Sally Crocker did so well that she quickly became Annie Oakley with the big gun.




Some of our troop tried the Equestrian Center for fun. If you are from Mississippi, it means they went horse riding. Here is Denise admiring the horses while Karin Williamson is not quite so eager. They made you wear helmets and would not let you chase the foxes at all.
We also got to go on a lake tour which was fun. The Castle had several nice lounges and a fun bar called the Dungeon too. They also had Guinness! Will talk about Cong and the wonderful Irish people next.

From Kudzu to Shamrocks

We left Memphis and headed for New York and landed at LaGuardia Airport. the first thing that you will notice is that it is bigger than Memphis. In fact, it is bigger than Memphis and Water Valley rolled into one. The skyline really is something to see. The second thing I got was a dose of Taxicabs. Do not be fooled, they are expensive. In our stupidity we had to go from LaGuardia to JFK to catch our plane. The info we had was it was almost next door. $50 later we arrived at JFK and our flight on Aer Lingus to Shannon, Ireland. The flight was 5 1/2 hours and we arrived at 5:00AM their time. It was still dark. We stumbled out of the terminal and the first thing I found out about Ireland was that those damn fools drive on the wrong side of the road! I went to hire a driver for the 2 hour trip to Ashford Castle and the man said that will be around $192. Crap! When I questioned them they thought it was funny because they were talking about Euros not dollars. I went to the currency exchange.
The American dollar was worth .60 cents! Holy Moly, half our money just got thrown away! The car was roughly $300 American! Nothing to do but grit our teeth and go.
This is where it really got interesting.
We hopped in the car with and the driver took off. We are racing across the country while he is happily telling us about everything in view. My face is pale and Denise has her eyes closed. The roads there seem about 10 to 12 feet wide with everyone driving about 70 mph. On each side, exactly 6 inches from the road is a rock wall 4 to 8 feet in height. Each curve we slid around we had to turn our bodies sideways!
Finally after many close calls that the driver seemed not to notice, we arrived at Ashford Castle. Please visit their website, you will be amazed. Their pics are a whole lot more dramatic than mine. Castle, Ghost, Lake Monster and Golf all in one place.
Oh yes, there is Guinness beer too!

Big Al -vs- The Big Eyed Monster

A message from Al - Some stories are best told in the course of conversation, and this might be one of those stories, so in order to make it worth reading I went back and told a bit of the history of it all, so you can get a feel for time and place. I hope I succeeded at that. Mind you this type of writing isn't my stick, but it was fun retelling the past.....maybe I'll do some more of it. With each story there is another and another....some funny, some tragic. My friend Doc, who I mention in this story was murdered a few years also....and that place of his that was as dear to me as it was him is gone...clear cut and farm land now. And me, I live back in town now. Back in the house I grew up in. Moved back in with my father in his last few years of life, and something I wouldn't trade for all those beautiful sunrises and sunsets I got to experience for a good enough amount of time...But I've got memories...of Doc. Of his place and of mine. And of my dad, who in reality made it all possible. And I've got you, who made me put this memory down for posterity. Thank you Marian. Al

A good while back I wrote Rex an account of a terrible, but true, event. The object of concern was of an armadillo and a near death experience I’d had with such. I think what I wrote was in reply to one of Rex’s, or perhaps one of Rex's daughters (?) blogs about an encounter she had had with one of the evil creatures. In conclusion I told Rex that one day I would tell him the tale about another true happening from my past.

Marian was kind enough to post that first story on this blog, Rex, after all, had said that he might if I wouldn’t. Well, women being women, she has insisted on me telling the second story as well…and Rex being gone and unable to do anything about it…here goes.

To make this thoroughly fascinating story at least somewhat interesting let me start in the beginning. Here I was, a long, long time ago…

I had a good friend who was a veterinarian, ag-pilot, cattle rancher (and a tad eccentric/hermit). We called him Doc. Everybody called him Doc. Doc was an unusual character to say the least, but that’s an entirely different story.

I hunted with Doc. Doc had one of those special places that you don’t find very often. Unkempt comes to mind, but don’t let that say something it shouldn’t, for Doc loved it that way… wild, grown up and over grown. He had horses and cows and a house way up off the ground where they would often get in bad weather and such. And it wasn’t unusual to find a deer there, under his house, or maybe in his barn. Some of the deer around Doc’s place were almost tame, so when hunting you had to be extra careful… and there is ANOTHER story.

Well, Doc never ever asked anything of me to get to hunt on his land, but occasionally he would ask for something. I never took it as an obligation or requirement or such, but as a friend I would always gladly lend Doc a hand when the odd occasion arose.

One of several of those odd occasions occurred and it found me helping him to haul hay. He made those big round bales that you need a tractor to load and also a tractor to pull the trailer that you loaded it on, so trailer hauling duty fell to me. This day found us several miles from his place, picking up hay he’d cut the week before off of another friends place. I love that term when it comes to land – “place”.

Anyway, Doc knew that I was looking for a ‘place’ of my own. Somewhere out in the country. Somewhere where we could have horses and all the dogs a wife could want. As we drove down a long seemingly deserted road Doc stopped and got off his tractor. I pulled up behind him and shut mine down, thinking something was wrong. “You still looking for a house out in the country?” he asked.

I replied that I was, but wasn’t having much luck finding anywhere that I could come close to affording. “What about this one?” he asked. I swear that I had no clue a house was anywhere within a mile of where I was standing. There wasn’t, except for the one hidden by the tall grass and weeds along side of the road.

We made a trek back through the growth and found a diamond. Not only was it what I thought was one of the most beautiful homes in this part of the country, but it had a pond too. A three acre pond. And a pasture to boot. To make a long story short, I bought the place for next to nothing. That’s another story in itself…

But back to THIS story. My wife and I had both grown up within some city limits. Me in Tallulah, her in Shreveport. Neither of us knew much at all about country life, but that didn’t matter, we weren’t planning on being farmers or anything like that. I just had visions of being a gentleman rancher… that’s all.

Being unaccustomed to the country life we were a bit afraid of the unknown. Different noises, even a different darkness… it took a bit of getting used to. And we weren’t used to it yet.

On night as we lay in bed, in the deafening silence that the country can have sometimes, I heard a noise. A weird, rustling, noise, different than I ever heard before… then a crash. Not like glass, more like metal. Then quiet. Then another noise that did sound like glass, or something, tinkling! I lay there frozen. Eyes wide as saucers. My wife asked under her breath, “What the H--- was that?”

I wanted real bad to say it was a dog or something, but I knew it wasn’t. There was somebody, or something, just down the hall, in the den.

Being Mr. Protection for my wife (read that as chicken), I kept my trusty old .45 on the nightstand beside me. Gun in hand it was time to investigate. Much like the other story that night found me once again clad in boxers, creeping down a darkened hallway. Holding my breath (and hearing my heartbeat) I slowly walked into the den.

Just inside the doorway I stopped and looked around the dark room. Ever so slowly I eased forward. Then I saw it, standing to my right, two huge eyes, open wide and looking back at me. A BIG EYED MONSTER! I spun, raised my gun, and just before squeezing off a round, up it went. Fast as that! Up over my head! Up to the balcony overlooking my den! Dang Owl!

Thankfully there was no floor cleanup required, oh but ever so close.

Somehow a big old hoot owl had come down my chimney, knocked over the screen in front and had lit upon the top of my television. Exactly at human height he stood there staring at me. Big round staring eyes. The lucky part of all this is I don’t have an overly itchy trigger finger, or some poor endangered specie of an owl would have bit the big one that night. The owl and the five hundred dollar plate glass window behind him, or perhaps the brand new color TV.

I pondered for a bit on how to remove said owl from the balcony overlooking my den and finally decided to go out and get a fishing net from the garage. It seemed like a sound idea. How hard would it be to net an owl? When I went out of the door the thing followed right along behind, just like he knew just what a door was for. Well, in hind sight it could have been HIS house in the first place…

We've had a few laughs about this over the years, and heck, it was even funny at the time. My house in the country had some really good memories. One Easter morning I had two Bald Eagles in the tree in my front yard. Every fall thousands of ducks, in the air, in my pond, and in the slew across the road. Deer tracks in my yard. Bass in my pond… And not only for me, but others as well. An acquaintance had also looked at the house before I bought it. When he went inside he found a doe making herself at home inside, apparently coming and going often and at will through an open back door. Who scared who worse no one knows….

I miss the place. I don’t miss the road I had to travel to get to town and back, but the place I miss a bunch. It was paradise, but sometimes good things do have to come to an end don’t they. I hope you’ve found this story a good one, this is THE END.

Al - My Dismal Swamp ~Thank you Al for sharing your story with us! It was great! Marian

Mentoring

I’m going to take this opportunity today, as a guest blogger, to let you how Rex and I met and how he became my mentor and friend.

Rex came to my website, A Dixie Lady Deer Hunter, through a forum and on January 29, 2007, he entered, …“nice site, good to see another Mississippian writing about hunting.” As always, I return a thank you to anyone who signs my guestbook. He soon wrote me back and told me that being a lady deer hunter I could inform and encourage other lady hunters. I let him know that I also had a blog called, Marian’s Hunting Stories, etc., etc., etc., and had only made four posts within three months and that I had lost interest. He continued to encouraged me to write and to do my best and if I had a problem he would help me. With both of us living right here in Mississippi, he soon invited my husband and I to come to the Christmas Place Plantation Hunting Club, which is only an hour and half drive northeast of Vicksburg in the Delta. We hit it off at our first meeting and talked about blogging, friends we have made while blogging and about the Outdoor Bloggers Summit (OBS) and how we looked forward to meeting everyone at the summit one day.

It’s always a fun time at the camp, telling hunting/ghost stories around the camp fire, riding around the Christmas Place on 4-wheelers and gators, fishing, checking out the different deer stands and especially visiting with his Dad, Hershel ‘The Chief‘ Howell and his family and friends! Just this past hunting season I harvested my first deer at the camp, a nice 135 lb. doe. Rex has not only become my blogging mentor, but a good friend as well to both my husband and I.

On February 8, 2008, Steven Bradley asked the question on his blog, "Do you have a blogging mentor"? I replied and told him about Rex and he said, “Marian. sounds like Rex is closer to the true definition of a mentor than some of what I’m describing here. Most of the people I’m describing in this post are people you might never meet. Of course the blogging mentors I talk about here are no substitute for a real life mentor who you can talk to. I think you’re ahead of the game.”

I’ll always be grateful for his continued support and true friendship.

You Don't See This Everyday....

....in our great wild outdoors!

Marian for Deer Camp Blog

Big Al -vs- The Armadillo

Armadillo's are nothing to play with; I was almost killed by one once. No lie.

My wife, daughter, and I had just moved to the country...both of us having grown up city folks, my wife in Shreveport, myself in Tallulah, LA. Not quite settled in the ways of country life, we were somewhat skiddish, to say the least.

One night, after we had gone to bed, I heard a noise coming from somewhere outside...and about just then the dog cut loose. Fully awake, I grabbed my trusty .45 off of the night stand (can't be too careful you know, out in the wild like we were) and I crept slowly toward the front of the house.

Whatever it was I could tell was in the garage...the dog seemed to have it bayed there. Here I was, never mind I was dressed only in a too small pair of boxer shorts, slowly creeping through the kitchen, ever so slowly with gun in hand, and easing to the kitchen door. I stood and listened for any human sounds that might tip me as to how many assailants I was about to face. I heard nothing but barking and growling from outside the door.

Ever so slowly, I opened the door and peeked out into the garage. Seeing nothing I ever so slowly opened the screen door, poked my head out and glanced around. Whatever it was, or WHO ever it was, couldn't be seen...just the dogs, growling and barking at something that had to be there.

With gun at the ready, I slowly stepped out side...and planted my foot firmly onto the back of a now overly excited armadillo.

Do you know just how fast an armadillo can move? Well, I can't give you an exact figure, but let me just say it's at least 10 times whatever it is you think it is...and he did.

I rode said armadillo for the full .08 seconds that seemed to be an eternity. It's an experience Disney only wishes it could capture, I assure you. Contrary to physical law, his mad dash forward also seemed to toss me well up into the air, spin me around, and deposit me upon my tiller, which I had stored out of the way there.

I was virtually impaled on top of the implement; feet now up by the handlebar, one arm neatly woven among the curves of the tines, with the spark plug firmly planted in my back! Worse than that, a hysterical wife!

Hysterical, not out of any fear of my eminent demise, or at least serious need for expert medical attention...no, just laughing hysterically at the sad sight laying there before her eyes. Ahhh, love! Ain't it grand...?

Anyway, It was two days before I could drag myself out of bed, and the better part of a week before I could return to work,...and I was stove up for at least a month or more...pierced back, cuts up the arm, several bruised ribs, a twisted spine, twisted ankle, skint knee (? go figure), ...and a damaged and almost irreparable ego.

I hate those dastardly creatures! I hate them, I hate them, I hate them... They look so..., so funny looking, yet they are deadly, I tell you. Deadly. - Al

P.S. Every last word of the above is true. When I've got more time I'll tell you about the big eyed monster that I found in my den...true story too!

Story contributed by Big Al's - My Dismal Swamp for Rex's Deer Camp Blog.

Many thanks Big Al! Marian

Gone to Ireland

Rex and Denise left early this morning for Ireland. In doing some research I found out a few facts about it. Ireland is the 3rd largest island in Europe and the twentieth-largest island in the world. It lies to the north-west of continental Europe and is surrounded by hundreds of islands and islet. To the east of Ireland, separated by the Irish Sea, is the island of Great Britain. Politically, the state Ireland (described as the Republic of Ireland in cases of ambiguity) covers five-sixths of the island, with Northern Ireland, part of the United Kingdom, covering the remainder in the north-east. The population of the island is slightly over 6 million (2007), with 4.4 million in the Republic of Ireland (1.7 million in Greater Dublin) and an estimated 1.75 million in Northern Ireland (800,000 in Greater Belfast).

A few places they may see while there ~

The Blarney Castle

The Spire of Dublin

Cliffs of Moher

The Ha'penny Bridge

and of course.....

The Irish Elk or Giant Deer, (Megaloceros giganteus), is one of the largest that ever lived in Ireland and could possibly be an ancestor to Thunderhoof. The species has been carbon dated to 11,000 years ago. Its old common name ‘Irish Elk’ is misleading and skeletons have been found in the Irish bogs. The Irish Elk stood about 6.9 feet tall at the shoulders, and it also had the largest antlers. Maybe Rex and Denise can make it over to the Natural History Museum in Dublin to see the skeletons of the Giant Deer.

Safe Travels and God Speed!
Marian's Hunting Stories, etc., etc., etc.