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Bride, Archways, Mangetout, Inis Mór

Red heart

Saturday 21 August 2010.

Well I wrote a €198 cheque made payable to Michael Breslin.  I discovered from the MBNA site last night that my deposit of €33 had been paid long ago.  €32 for “extras.”  I also gave Michael after breakfast a €20 note to give to his wife Sian.  A tip.  We left Donegal Manor around 09.30 and reached The Milford Inn at around 11.15.  We drank coffee and Rosanna dressed in the toilet in her white “German” trouser suit, cream shoes, brown patterned T-shirt with inlaid glass.  She drank a whiskey and red which she said would “give her energy.”  I had dressed this morning in vest, white shirt with silver Fiona Thornton cuff-links, black tie with rectangular gold pattern, stainless steel watch, black 44” “legal” slacks, black Calvin Klein socks, black patent Clarks, black and white check Kennedy McSharry jacket.  We booked in to Archway B&B across the road below the hotel.  Walked in Milford to pass the time before the wedding.  I bought and masticated a Snickers bar.  I joined in here and there with the singing in the church.  Fr. Sweeney celebrant.  Nora Sweeney, a nurse who cried all night, became Mrs. Declan Friel.  A full church.  St. Peter’s.  I complimented the Sweeney nun on her singing as she descended the steps of the gallery.  The wedding started at around 13.20 and the meal in the hotel was not served until after 17.00.  I drank a little champagne while I waited from a champagne fountain.  Nodding off now and again.  I ate chicken and mushroom vol-au-vent; cream of vegetable soup; beef with horseradish sauce, mash, Yorkshire pudding, roast potato, vegetables including mangetout, gravy, and a second helping – more beef, a roast potato, small Yorkshire pudding; apple pie with cream and custard; coffee.  I drank two glasses of white and a glass of red with no ill effects.  Conversed at table with Moira Boyce and her husband (a school principal) and Bridie McFadden (should she be called McFaggen because she spent most of her time outside smoking?).  Rosanna conversed with John Boyce, his wife Tess, his sister Nora and we sat with them in the foyer until 23.30 when we said our goodbyes to Ann Marie (bridesmaid), Sadie and Ronan Sweeney.  I had a good conversation earlier with Sadie about Greenore.  She asked to be remembered to Mick Ferguson (“Keep your head down, keep your arse up, and hit it!”); she remarked that Kevin Hynes was nice; she asked, “Was he the thin fellow?” when I told her I was friendly with Dessie Hynes.  She said she would love to visit Greenore.  She lived there from 1964 until 1967 when her mother died.  John Boyce NT was a class-mate of Eamonn McBride.  He is over 70 and recently lost a son to a massive heart attack.  Rosanna screamed abuse at me as we walked down the road to the Archways B&B.  “We should have parked the car at the hotel!  Keep in from the traffic!  This is completely dangerous!  I’ll never attend another wedding!”  I washed my teeth, put on my pajamas, got in to bed before 00.00.  Ronan Sweeney was genuinely grateful that we had showed our support by attending the wedding.  I thought that myself and Rosanna independently reached the same conclusion and remarked the same thing.  “We were delighted to get the invitation,” I had assured him.  Bright day today, rather warm betimes, cloud patterned sky.  There were 11 siblings in Ronan Sweeney’s family all of them born in Donegal although many of them were conceived in Inis Mór where Sweeney père was a Guard who served along with Rosanna’s father Dinny Searlaí.  Guard Sweeney was Rosanna’s god-father.  He died at 52.

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