December 2001
Laura and her James returned from Switzerland, where they both worked at the CABI Bioscience lab for the summer. Stefan and his Kate flew in from Victoria, where they've been living and training at the National Triathlon centre. Arran trekked out on the GO train from his digs in the heart of Toronto.

It should have been ... it almost was one of those fairytale idyllic Christmases: lots of giggling and whispering behind closed doors; people constantly running off on secret errands; the sound of scissors and tape and wrapping paper as the mountain of gifts under the tree climbed higher and higher. Friends dropping in. The game boards and score cards sizzling with constant use. (Warning! don't play Scrabble or Boggle with James if you're the type that always has to win!) Lots of lively conversation around the dinner table. Unfortunately, too much of that conversation was about our ailing Gandalf.

We can only hope that another year will give us the opportunity to gather all our beloveds together again.

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How we spent our summer vacation

August, 2001 See Sun-drenched, Flat Ireland!! By bicycle!!!

Well. With all those Flanagans and Kennedys, Maloneys and Allelys hanging off our family tree, how could we resist? BUT. No way was the Flanagan side of the family going to travel alone with the Timms rep. (Been there -- done that. He doesn't stop until faced with the real necessity for a trip to the Emergency Ward for his exhausted companion.) So, what to do? Why not go with someone else?

We called all our friends and relatives. Sent out a thousand emails. And ended up, just for insurance, with NINE someone elses.

Somehow, John Heagney of Cycle Holidays Ireland took this group of 11 completely disparate egos and abilities, housed us, led us (up and down a lot of hills .. well, mountains -- we were kidding about the 'flat' part); fed us (incredibly well -- Irish cooking has moved far beyond the potato); and kept us laughing the whole time.

One of the most vivid memories of the trip, aside from the incredible scenery and the new-found prosperity of Ireland, is of the group standing by the van, in the pouring rain (we were kidding about the 'sun-drenched' part, too) laughing ourselves silly as we prepared to cycle up yet another mountain. (Actually, the sun did come out, and stayed out, after that day.)

Roger, of course, chose to cycle in the rain his way

If ever you are seized with the impulse to go cycling in the west of Ireland, do yourself a favour and write to John.

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