IRELAND: Staying on a Farm Outside of Limerick

Usually we like to stay in a central location so we can walk out the front door and be close to the thick of things. 

John likes to have the option of having his early morning coffee fix in a coffee shop a short walk away. 

We like to be able to get around easily without a vehicle. 

And if there is an old historic centre we like to be really close to it. 

So it was totally out of character to choose a small farm in Adare, just south of Limerick. 

Outside our windows the curious steers kept watch.

The heifers, otherwise known as The Girls, were in another pasture enjoying their peace and quiet.

Every month the steers are moved to a new pasture for fresh greens. They were eager to move to their next buffet. 

Cute little farm dogs were eager for attention.

We had our own little roads for to explore.

We stayed in the cute little stables and beside us was the thatched farm house.

As a city girl, I like really cattle. They are big, curious, friendly, gentle, but basically timid. 

This fellow was a favourite. 

Apparently he was bottle fed, which made him very friendly. Our host said he was becoming a bit of nuisance because he was too friendly and didn’t know his size. He figured the steer needed a name so he could tell him to get lost when he got too friendly.

Now, there’s a challenge for me!

My first thought for a name was to figure out a famous eunuch, since that is basically what a steer is. 

I figured maybe there was one from mythology. Google search came up with nothing. 

But I did learn that the 10 most famous eunuchs were all from China. Apparently eunuchs made excellent guards as they weren’t interested in falling prey to female diversions and since they wouldn’t have a family they would put the emperor first.   

So then I turned my search for a name in a different direction, to lives that were cut short. Because really, have you ever heard of a steer that died of old age?

So I thought of British and Irish history. King Charles I had his life cut short. Well, actually, with the loss of his head, his whole body was cut short. 

And the nickname for Charles is “Chuck”! Which is also befitting because, ummmmm, there is a meat cut called "chuck roast".

Now that Chuck has a name, and a very clever one at that (if I must say so myself), I pleaded his case with our host and suggested that he really should be spared his early demise.

Our host had a different idea. Unfortunately, as you read this, history has repeated itself and Chuck has now departed for greener pastures.