Dia is Mhuire díobh go léir a chairde, and welcome to my weekly report.
We are heading into the middle of the month of August, the countryside is taking on the look of a year having done with it’s growing season and steering us into that time when we are about to reap or harvest the fruits of our labour in the hope that the Good Lord has been kind to us one more time. Goodness knows, people of my calibre have looked back on many an August. Some good but not all and yet we have survived and always looked to the future with hope in God and hope in ourselves. With my Roman Catholic hat on I can cast my thoughts back to times when all seemed lost but buoyed up by our faith in God, we soldiered on. Our favourite requests were not always granted but we somehow were given to see things another way, often a better way and finished up alright in the end. Sometimes I felt that God had a sense of humour a funny side, if you know what I mean.
I can recall one time after we had moved from our lovely home at Kilmeedy Castle and relocated to an equally lovely home in Geararoe. The Stations were a regular and an important part of our lives back then. They were held in the homes of farmers. People who did not have land were not on the list, though they were an important part of those who attended. Getting ready for the Stations is a story well told and often recalled over the years. We knew years in advance when our turn was due. They were held every six months in the Spring and in the Autumn and if there were say ten houses in the catchment area, then your turn came every five years. This was a reasonable time between Stations. Very often the house got no real clean up nor repairs until the time drew near and women especially having gotten no response from himself to fix a floor in the musty parlour or plaster a wall in the hall or paint the yard would get her oar in when the Station time was approaching. We’ve all heard the story of the house where the out offices were painted pure white with a mixture of white lime and water, which was the usual thing, sometimes a fist of bluestone was added to give the work a slight hue of colour and make it all the more effective. Needless to say the work on the farmyard had to go on uninterrupted while all of this was going on hens, geese, pigs going about their business regardless of the fact that the Lord himself would be coming any day soon. The sow completely ignorant of all the grandeur around her rubbed herself off the pier of the gate and went away brandishing a panel of virgin white across the ribs. On arriving in the lofty horse and side car the Canon was heard remarking to his Curate, “Look “says he, “they painted even the sow”.
When we left our farm we were no longer obliged to host a Station. However another householder in the same situation decided to have one and all the people of that station area were welcomed to attend. Being the sort who always loved holding a Station, Dan (RIP) and I decided to go ahead. The Parish Priest agreed and a date was fixed. Needless we saw a lot of things needed attention and we planned to paint and decorate the place before the big event but the weather was atrocious. It rained and rained every time we opened a can of paint. I prayed earnestly to God to give us a few fine days to carry out our work but alas to no avail there was no let up. I was really disgusted and so cross with God. Here I was inviting him into my home, when I didn’t have to and he won’t even give us a few dry days. When all failed and there was no more time in disgust I said, “now God my place is a mess, you wouldn’t give me fine weather to prepare for your coming so now I want you to give us the same pouring rain on the morning of the Station, so that everybody will have to rush in from their cars and no one will notice our shabby place”. Well the morning dawned and the sun shone out, the crowds came . The Alter was set inside the big front window showing the sloping green fields reaching all the way up to the top of Clara mountain a picture of the Resurrection of Christ hung on the wall above the priest where he raised the Host and forgive me but I had to smile, as if He (God)was saying ,”you silly git, didn’t you know I wouldn’t let you down”. It was one divine beautiful moment that I will never forget. I smiled and I wouldn’t be surprised if He was winking back.
My friends in Nebraska are deeply religious and when something like that happens to them, a chance blessing or an unexpected success or escape from harm, they call it a ‘God Thing ’ and I’m sure that most people have them and it gives that inner warmth ,to know that somebody up there loves and cares for them and always will.
One item I forgot to mention about my trips to Beara was that the little church in Adrigole has a direct link with Millstreet. Within it’s walls is the last resting place of The Very Reverend Jerome Dennehy, P.P. formerly of Cloghoula. He was parish priest in that beautiful place from 1983 to 1997 and died at the age of 81. He never forgot his old home and whenever he met Geraldine at Mass he would come and ask her about all the neighbours around his native Cloghoula. Frank Riordan, Neilus McSweeney, the O’Hares and many more. He’d want to know who was teaching in Cloghoula School now and so on. His grave stone is easy to see in the Priest’s burial ground between the roadside boundary wall and the church. It’s at a bend of road about half way as you travel from Glengarriffe to Castletownbere.
We are starting to enjoy more ‘out ‘ time. While still being very careful, we can now enjoy a meal in our favourite restaurant or diner and the people who provide our food are making every effort to meet our needs. In turn I think that we should play our own part and stick to the rules. The Lovely Aroma Café in Minor Row opened it’s doors to a throng of customers who dribble in there when it’s safe to do so with regard to numbers. As in every other place where I’ve gone they stick to the requirement of taking your details for traceability purposes. Nobody seems to have any problem with it.
Needless we have our little moans, our gripes about some things. Scones spring to my mind. The tea and scone used to be the bees knees as far as an in between meals morsel, or a bite to enjoy with a friend. Smothered with red jam and cream, it often left you wishing for more. But more seems to be the problem now. As far as I’m concerned the standard scone of today is far too big. It’s a meal in itself for some but not for all. For me the novelty has gone out of the scone as I’m loathe to waste food instead of enjoying it I find myself struggling to finish one and that spoils the treat. I know that our shops are full of other teatime bites but there is something about the little scone that pleases the palate. While I’m at it can I have another ould moan. Can I ask why do they put sugar in brown breads, brown scones included. I always regard brown as being savoury, something to have with a boiled egg, or a salad, or a fry but not with added sweetener. Anybody agree?
Our Town Park is alive to the sweetest sound of all this week, the sound of children playing. Summer camps continue for boys and girls from as early as 9.30 am. Included in their fee is a kit comprising of colourful sport wear and a knack sack to carry their gear. We are grateful to all involved in these summer camps giving our young people a sense of fun and enjoyment in the their young lives. We hope the weather will be kind.
Pony Riding is very popular in the area since Neil Corkery set up the business at his beautiful home in Cloghoula a couple of years ago. Young people who had no opportunity of engaging in this hobby/ sport are fast becoming experts. All ages are welcome. Give Neil a ring at 087 2727759and give this relatively new hobby/sport in our area your best support.
Here are the results of this week’s lotto draw which was held on Sunday night. Numbers drawn were 1,15,18, 19, and the Jackpot was not won. €100 went to Peadar O Tuama, Carriginma, the seller was Colemans Centra and they got €50 sellers Prize, €20 went to Paddy O Connor, c/o Mary O’Connor, M.O’Connor. c/o ORegan’s Mills. Jerry Heineken c/o the Bush Bar. Catherine Jenks c/o Colemans, Robbie Boucher c/o the Bush Bar. Ita Hickey, Claracleagh, Chloe, Dan, Jason, Megan, Amelia c/o Colemans, Breda Creedon, Aubane. Next draw will be on next Sunday August 15th with a Jackpot of €14,600.
August 15th, a date which stands out in my memory for more reasons than one. My dear Mother passed away on that day in 1936. But it also marks the date of the wonderful annual Kanturk agricultural Shows of the past and I always connect that date with gladiolas. It seemed to be their time to flower and flourish. We used to cycle to the Kanturk Show. Our eyes would stand out at the sight of the beautiful cows and bulls and sheep and many other animals. Then the display of the best vegetables and flowers especially the gladiolas, it was their time and how they glowed before our gaze. That coupled with the beautiful baking we looked for the ones that won prizes and envied the baker. We’d meet people we knew and didn’t know. It was a buzzing friendly place until it was time to go home. Back on the bikes a crowd of us together, we had great camaraderie along the road and when a shower threatened to drown us, we’d fly into any open shed along the way and when the rain was gone, we’d mount up and pedal on again, without a care in the world to get as far as we could before the next bout of rain. Youth was on our side our spirits were high and no rain nor distance was going to take from that. I can still see some shacks along the way where we took shelter, all those years ago.
We are always trying to think up new ways of passing the time, while this covid emergency is with us. As I’ve said before doodling is one of my hobbies and never allows me to get bored. It helps to fill moments while I wait for the time to do something else or go somewhere. We all have our own ways of passing those odd moments. I knew an elderly man one time who got the Examiner every day and when he was finished reading it he took out a jotter, like the ones we used in school and with a well topped pencil he proceeded to write down all that he was reading did nothing with it, but it passed the time and that was important to him, Which only goes to say, that if it works for you, do it.
That’s about it for me. Have a good week, Slán.
