The luck of the Irish shined upon my family when I was a wee lad. I was just a wee lad but I do recall our first family manor. It was a quite dandy flat. It had green carpet and a sky light. One entered our abode via a grand door. We had three magnificent hounds. I being of course just a wee lad have only the fleeting of images of these great hounds. My sisters three called them the bandits. How I loved to watch them wash their food. I can not for the life of me or a case of Guinness recall their names. But my favorite hound, I called Foamy.
Many years passed and I wondered about the first place we lived. Sometimes the past is not as you has memories of. My dear old mom informed me that it was not carpet but grass growing on the dirt floor and the skylight was a hole in the roof. Which explained why we were the only family among my friends that had to trim their carpet weekly. And alas the grand door was actually the barn door. And of course now I am very suspicious of my recollections of Foamy.