Will we get to Sneem?

This is jet lag - it is Tuesday 17 February 2015 - 2:30 am - I am sitting here at the kitchen table in Loughane. I have been awake since 1:30 trying to go back to sleep. Seems like a week ago that we were leaving record amounts of snow behind when we flew out of Logan Airport in Boston for Shannon Airport. And it was only yesterday evening!

My daughter Mairead and I had talked about coming to Ireland during her school vacation in April. We would tour a little and then head down to see family and friends in Sneem and Kenmare. That changed after my cousin Larry called on Christmas Day to tell me that his wife had died that morning.  Then my partner at work decided she might be retiring  - if she did, I might not get anyone to cover my vacation time for a while. I couldn’t get here in time for Sheila’s funeral, but  I wanted to come and spend some time with my cousins Larry and Hannah. So I decided to come in February.

After I had booked the flight for Sunday 15 February, Johnny Murphy realized that his Irish passport had expired.  My son Mike drove him to the Irish Consulate in Copley Square, Boston on Monday 26 January - the blizzard of 2015 arrived at the same time. They then picked me up at Logan Airport - I had been on a weekend cruise with 3 sisters, 3 cousins, and a best friend. We made it home finally in swirling snow and slippery roads. And that was it. 

We were buried in snow and snow drifts - then another storm dumped more snow - the next storm dropped even more snow. Boston’s public transit system broke down, and driving around Boston was horrendous due to snow covered roads causing massive traffic.

Then we heard another blizzard was coming on Sunday February 15 - the day we were flying out to Shannon! In all the years we have gone to Ireland in the winter, we have only once had a flight delay - and that was leaving Shannon so we didn’t mind! We were monitoring the forecast. I was also trying to contact the Irish Consulate - Johnny was to pick up his passport the Friday before we left - but there was no answer at the Consulate until the Wednesday before we were leaving - we were thinking that Johnny might not be getting on that flight.  We found out Wednesday that the consulate had been closed due to all the snow and lack of transportation into Boston. The gal was finally responding to my messages from her home in Quincy. She told us to drive up to the consulate on Thursday morning, and someone would be there to give the passport to us.

Johnny had also hurt his right knee the beginning of the week - it swelled up twice its size, and he could not walk except with a walker.  We left Falmouth at 5:30 Thursday morning and got to Copley Square at 9:38 am. Dropping him off proved to be a problem - there was no parking due to the snow emergency - the streets were covered in snow making walking difficult even without a bum knee and a walker. An illegal space finally opened up right outside the Consulate after I circled around the area. Johnny went in and got his temporary passport. We headed home - made it in less than an hour and a half.

Friday morning I called Johnny’s orthopedic surgeon, and they squeezed him in that afternoon - drained his knee, gave him a cortisone injection, and he was on his way.

But now the forecast for Sunday was for over a foot of snow. We tinkered with the idea of staying at a motel near the airport on Saturday and taking a chance the flight to Ireland would take off when the snow stopped on Sunday afternoon. Monday was predicted to be a frigid but dry day so I figured that flight would surely get out. I called Aer Lingus and switched our departure to Monday February 16.

Mike worked 3-11 on Saturday night and stayed over at the motel to work 7-3 the next morning. I shoveled the driveway and around behind the house to the chickens about 4:40 pm on Saturday - it was light fluffy snow, but there was a lot of it. I shoveled the driveway once more on Saturday night about 8 pm. Mike made it home Sunday afternoon and shoveled himself into the driveway.  Sunday’s flight to Shannon was cancelled.

Mike was out shoveling the driveway again on Monday while I was shoveling another foot of snow behind the house to the chickens. It was 0 degrees Fahrenheit with a blustery wind that day - the blowing snow was stinging my face. 

Mike dropped us off in Hyannis, and we took the 1:30 pm Plymouth and Brockton bus to Logan Airport. The driver dropped us off right in front of Aer Lingus at 3:30. It was worth $50 for tickets and a $5 tip to the driver when we saw massive traffic going both north and south on the southeast expressway.

Johnny was moving better but still brought the walker on the trip. I told him to use it at the airport due to all the walking we would have to do. It certainly was handy when we were sent to the express security line for people 75+ years old, people with children, and people with medical issues. Of course, I had to go through the usual xray and pat down due to my 2 hip replacements. But we were through the security check in just a couple of minutes. We are never leaving home again without that walker!

We got a seat near a window and watched planes taking off and landing, loading and unloading - that was quite interesting. The walker did not help too much in boarding the plane - although an Aer Lingus rep took us down an elevator to the boarding area so Johnny did not have to negotiate the stairs down to the plane. It was interesting to see the security measures - she used her index finger to identify herself on a security pad, and then had to insert her security code to get through a couple of doors.

We lucked out because we each had an aisle seat, and the seats between us and the passengers at the windows were empty - so instead of three across - we were only two across. This plane was quite small - we are now used to the airbus with 2 seats - 4 seats - then 2 seats across. The aisle in this smaller plane is now so narrow that some people’s carry on cases were too wide to pull down the aisle! So thank God I had an empty seat between me and Maureen Connelly Walsh of Spiddal and now of Dorchester.  She was very nice, and we chatted away until after the “meal.” Then we switched seats - I dozed off and on in the window seat, and Maureen talked to Johnny for the rest of the flight.

Almost before we knew it, we were in Shannon. Anyone remember when the stewardesses used to bring around hot damp towels just before landing to refresh yourselves? I used to love the feeling of that towel on my face! And on my first trip to Shannon in 1973 with my friend Julie, we exited the plane onto the ground and walked into the terminal. I guess I am dating myself! We thought we were crowded on the 747s in those days - little did we know how squashed we would be in years to come!