Oh yeah, my Uncle Billy used to sing that in the car when we were on long trips. We used to beg him to sing it and we'd all sing along with him. It's a tearjerker for me on two counts: the lyrics and the singer. Billy Griffin was a Corkman who was married to my grand-aunt Mae O'Shea, my maternal grandmother's sister who died before I was born. He was 66 when I was born. I was the first baby he ever held. That was only because he happened to pass my room in the middle of the night, finding me wet and cold. He reported that he did a passable job of changing his first diaper. (Others used to laugh when he said that, obviously knowing different.) Anyway, that was the start of a life-long love affair between Billy and me. He spoiled me in all the ways he could with great stories, long walks, rides in his little motor boat, trips to the beach. I credit him with my love for nature, horses, reading, and so much more. He was a truly wonderful person. He died of leukemia when I was 13, but he's still with me even now 40 years later. Sing me another round of "Kathleen," Jeri. <sniff, sniff>
He did something very funny. Years after his wife died, he married my mother's father's sister, so he was my grand-uncle times two. Keep it in the family.
Here's a new bit of gaelic for you.
Tog go bog e. (There should be accent marks over the o in tog and the last e.) It's pronounced toge, hard o; go like go-cart; bog sounds like bug, and the e sounds like a hard a. It translates into:
Take it easy.
Mary Ellen <img src="/images/graemlins/music.gif" alt="" />
