Ormondes at Kilkenny Castle

If you know me quite well, skip to the next paragraph. otherwise read here: my mother's family name and also my middle name is Ormonde. that is the setting for this post.

Kilkenny Castle is grand. we managed to skip the €6.00 fee for a €2.50 each on my youth card. The walls were lined with paintings of Ormonde residents mounted on the golden taffeta wallpaper. Staircases wound through towers, leading to libraries, drawing rooms, music rooms and lavish bed chambers. It was lovely imagining living in the house, sweeping long silk skirt hems across the polished floor to lounge on the chaise-longue or perch on a plump-cushioned mahogany seat at a chess table.
The gardens were tailored to perfection and the outside of the castle was monumental.

The weather was nice if you are a duck. I am part duck, i think.

We had stopped before panini lunch at a curious sign pointing down a lane advertising a pencil drawing exhibition. we stepped into a silent, near-empty pub where the barman gave us a long lecture about the history of his pub and also about the pencil artist. there were 2 paintings upstairs in a dusty theatre, apparently painted by a 21 year old, we were told several times. (he made us guess how old she was, first). then we went on our merry way and left the lonely man.

we did the crossword over raisin scones and coffee in a cafe for a few hours, went to an art/design/knitting centre and then poked our head into Kytelers inn, apparently owned by a red haired witch in the early 1200's i think.

the drive home was 3 hours, so i took bored photos of my feet and various inanimate objects and the speeding-past landscapes.

love