Burst Water Main May 2020, Salted Bacon, and Pullitzer Prize for Son of Writers' Week Chairman

 Pastures Green

Cows grazing peacefully at Coolageela, Kanturk photographed by farmer, Michael O'Sullivan

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Burst Water Main

I was on my permitted exercise last week when I spotted  more going on than usual these days outside Carroll's Hardware.

The gardaí were directing traffic and Irish water was repairing the fault.

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Rationing in 1942

Bless them all, bless them all, 

The long and the short and the tall,

God bless De Valera and Seán MacAntee

They gave us the black bread and half ounce of tea....

During the war certain commodities were rationed. This is why  these two in the photo, who have just killed and salted two pigs put this sign on their barrel for the photo.

Spelling not a strong point with Jack Brosnan and his first cousin. Dan O'Callaghan, both first cousins of my mother's

The sign , in case you can't read it, says, No Tay, Plenty Mate.

I grew up in an Ireland where killing and salting a pig was part of how we lived. It was all done as humanely as possible. We, children were never allowed to see.

I found the following pictures on the internet. Some people may prefer not to look at them.

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A Pulitzer Prize winner with a Listowel Connection

Photo from Limerick Leader

Malachy Browne who was recently awarded the Pullitzer Prize for journalism is the son of David Browne, chair of the Board of Directors of Listowel Writers' Week.

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A Covid Poem from John McGrath

Covid Sonnet

The world has pinned us with a warning glance,

the kind our mothers gave us long ago,

the look that was designed to let us know

that this might be our last and final chance.

So grounded, we can only hope and pray 

as, day by day, we inch beyond the fear

and tiptoe towards a future far from clear

our wounded planet showing us the way,

that voices raised in ignorance and greed

may yet be drowned by kindnesses and care,

together we can rise above despair,

united we will find the strength we need

as, all for one, we reach beyond the pain

and dare to dream tomorrow once again.

John McGrath  May 2020

Daffodil Day, Mike O'Donnell's Covid 19 cartoons and a poem from "a heart heavy with helplessness"

Photo: Chris Grayson

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No Clowning Now

I came across this when I was looking for something else. I include it here just for the laugh.

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The First Daffodil Day Committee

This year's Daffodil Day fundraiser had to be cancelled  This is a photo of the first committee, some of them sadly no longer with us. In their honour and with the help of the present super committee we'll do it all again as soon as the doors open.

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Mike O'Donnell is telling the story  of Covid 19 in pictures

He captioned this one "The Catch".

Mike is a genius. I hope when this is over he brings out a book of these...the first draft of history.

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In Time of Loss

Irish people are traditionally the best at supporting friends and neighbours when they lose someone. It is one of the hardest parts of our Covid 19 deprivations that we cant show or see that traditional support.
John McGrath wrote this poem for a grieving friend.  It is particularly apt for these troubled times when we can't be with our friends on their grief journey.

Dear Friend...

My heart is heavy with helplessness.
I would gladly take the weight from you,
Share your loss. But you are there
And I am anywhere but there.

Yet even if I walked beside you
You would need to walk alone.
Losses are like fingerprints, each one different
As every breath we take, and each our own.

But know dear friend, if love can lighten
This burden you endure, if love can share
One tiny step with you, look to your heart,
Be sure you’ll find me there.

John McGrath October 2014

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Food for Thought

The chances of the numbers 1 2 3 4 5 6 coming up in that order in the Lotto draw are the same as any other combination of numbers.  It's a lottery.

Listowel ICA at St. Patrick's Day, St. Michael's and Malahide Castle

An Old Gate

This gate is a kind of folly. You can see it on the John B. Keane Road near the Ballygologue Crossroads. It is beside a back lane into Ballygologue. It serves no purpose except to remind us that this was once the countryside and this was a gate into a field.

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John B. Keane Road in March 2020

Cahirdown in lockdown

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St. Michael's extension

This is the newly built extension to St. Michael's College. It's quiet and deserted now but will see teenage boys enjoy its facilities in the not too distant future.

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Listowel ICA in St. Patrick's Day Parades

(Photos provided by Máire MacMahon)

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The Healing Hand of Nature

(photos from Eamon Ó Murchú taken in March 2020 before the lockdown)

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A Poem from John McGrath

Missing the Last Waltz

My mother wears her bitterness
Like a dark shawl tonight.
Turf-smoke curls about her smoke-grey hair.
'Your father had two left feet,' she spits
Grasping the tongs with blue-veined fingers,
She pokes the fire to coax the dying flames.
'I should have married a dancer,' she sighs
And now her eyes are filled
With the hornpipes of memory
As the ghosts of a thousand hopefuls
Swirl her round the room.
'O, how we loved to dance.'
We lose her for a moment
In the ashes of lost chances,
Until once more the fading embers flicker.
'We could have had our pick,
Kathleen and me.'
Twin heartbreakers in pleated dresses.
They left the dancers standing,
Dashing down Oxford Road
For the last train home,
Missing the last waltz.

John McGrath

Jill Friedman's Listowel, poet John McGrath, Lord Omathwaite and Spanish Flu

Still Working

A KWD refuse truck passes Listowel Garda Station on March 26 2020

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Local poet, John McGrath shared this poem on Facebook. I know it will resonate with many of my emigrant readers.


The Week after St Patrick’s


The week after St Patrick’s, my mother
pressed his suit and packed his case,
Then drove him to the station for the early train
from Ballyhaunis to the crowded boat,
Then on to Manchester and solitude
until All Souls came slowly round again.
I don’t remember ever saying Goodbye.

At seventeen I took the train myself
and saw first-hand my father’s box-room life,
the Woodbines by his shabby single bed.
I don’t remember ever saying Hello
Just sat beside this stranger in the gloom
and talked of home and life, and all the while
I wanted to be gone, get on with mine.

Westerns and ‘The Western’ kept him sane,
newspapers from home until the time
to take the train came slowly round once more.
Lost in Louis L’Amour, he seldom heard
the toilet’s ugly flush, the gurgling bath

next door. Zane Grey dulled the traffic’s
angry roar, outside his grimy window.

Back home the year before he died we spoke
at last as equals, smoked our cigarettes,
his a Woodbine still, and mine a tipped;
My mother would have killed us if she’d known.
The phone-call came as Winter turned to Spring
I stood beside him, touched his face of ice
And knew our last Hello had been Goodbye.


John McGrath March 2018

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Jill Friedman's Kerry

Internationally renowned photographer, Jill Friedman took these photographs on trip to The Kingdom.

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Lord Ormathwaite

Lord Ormathwaite was mentioned in one of the old stories last week. Kay Caball has come across him in her research.

In 1770, John Walsh  (uncle-in-law of John Benn Walsh, Lord Ormathwaite) had purchased land from Francis Thomas Fitzmaurice, 3rd earl of Kerry, in both Clanmaurice and Iraghticonnor for £15,230, and again, in 1774, for £5,944.  John Walsh, was a wealthy nabob, born in Madras, who returned from India to Britain after the battle Plassey.  He became an MP, with a country estate in Berkshire.  He bequeathed his Irish estates after his death to his niece Margaret Benn-Walsh in trust for her son, who became Lord Ormathwaite, owning  9,000 acres in north Kerry at the time of the Great Famine.[1]

Sir John Benn WLSH (later Lord Ormathwaite) visited north Kerry in 1823 -1864 and kept a journal relating  these visits to the different [named] tenants.     Excerpts from this journal are published in John D. Pierse's book Teampall Bán: Aspects of the Famine in north Kerry 1845-1852, p. 241

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[1] Kay Caball, The Fall of the Fitzmaurices: The Demise of Kerry's First Family.

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North Kerry and The Spanish Flu

The last great pandemic was the Spanish flu, which ravaged the world in the years after World War 2

Photo from Ballydonoghue Parish Magazine 2018 shows workmen wearing masks.

This magazine has a very informative article about the pandemic.

 North Kerry was particularly hard hit, with many deaths.

In 1918 532 deaths were reported in the Listowel district. As well as the flu, people died of TB and  natural causes and many had lingering injuries acquired on the battle front.

Irishgenealogy,ie has a database of civil and church records that hold fascinating information. If you want to know how your ancestors fared during this last pandemic you could search the death records. Each entry records the cause of death and the duration of the final illness. If you make any interesting discoveries, we'd love to know.

Duagh, Little Women, The Imeldist and a new song

Parish Church, Duagh, Co, Kerry

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Australia!

Photo Credit; Taneka Bishop


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Remember The Imeldist

I am still anxious to find anyone who kept one of these or better still someone who wrote for this mini magazine.

I have done a bit of digging and I found that the booklet was first published in 1921 by Fr. Finbarr Ryan O.P. who was then the prior of St. Mary's,  Popes Quay, in Cork.

I found a few old copies for sale on eBay and other auction sites.

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Little Women

The film, Little Women is the one to see these days.  Saoirse Ronan in the role of Jo is being lauded as as triumph and she is tipped for an Oscar.

This has led to speculation on social media as to how Louisa May Alcott may have felt were she to know about this piece of casting. 

The following piece is being shared widely online.

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Foley's Field by John McGrath and Neil Brosnan

Foley’s Field

Written by John McGrath and Neil Brosnan, September 2019 and sung by Neil at John B's, Listowel, January 2020

Never did what I was told. I dug the field but not for gold,
Though long ago my father told me how.
‘Forget the cows,’ the old man said, ‘to make it pay, plant trees instead,
This boggy ground is far too poor to plough.’
But land, like poetry, draws you back, to write a line and leave your track.
Dry summers gave a glimpse of buried store.
I dug where mighty trees had grown, where cows had grazed and crops were sown
And men had thrived two thousand years before.

‘Too poor to plough,’ my father said, ‘Forget the cows, plant trees instead.
Plant trees and then sit back and watch them grow.’
But I was wilful, I was bold, and far too smart to heed the old,
With much to learn and still too young to know.

Golden roots of deal I found, and as I raised them from the ground
I filled each space with fine and fertile soil.
Now the grass grows sweet and green, the finest sward you’ve ever seen,
A rich reward for all those years of toil.
‘Plant trees, my son,’ the old man said, but I dug deep for trees long dead
And found the gold of myth and ancient lore.
Now I sit beside the fire. I watch the bog-deal blazing higher
And drink a toast to all who’ve dug before. 

‘Too poor to plough,’ my father said ‘Forget the cows, plant trees instead.
Plant trees and then sit back and watch them grow.’
But I was wilful, I was bold, and far too smart to heed the old,
With much to learn and still too young to know.

John McGrath

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Road Closure

Tralee path, The Lartigue, Industrial Schools and another old one

Cherry blossom on a path by the library in Tralee

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The Butler Centre

This beautiful building in the corner of The Square was once a tannery. Then it was a bank. Now it is in a far more fragrant recreation as a language school and beautiful venue for meetings, weddings etc.

http://butlercentre.ie

I am researching this and other buildings in Listowel Town Square for my gig at this year's

 Listowel Writers' Week

Why don't you check out the full programme at the link above?

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Lartigue at 130

I popped in to the lovely Lartigue museum as they were celebrating 130 years since the service first ran. Read all about it here 

Lartigue

The good people at the Lartigue Museum have amassed their own National Treasures and they are on display in the museum. If you love to take a trip back in time or if you have visitors to entertain, be sure to visit this summer.

Volunteers and visitors.

 John and Mary and their friends from Listowel Writing Group gave readings of their work on the day. They are with Judy and Jimmy in my photo.

As I headed back to town I met some reenactors. They are not real soldiers but when they offered to take a selfie with me I didn't feel I could refuse.

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Halo has Moved

Elaine has moved to a bigger premises on Upper William Street and she has expanded her range. She also now serves  coffee to take away or drink in the store or in the sun.

When I called in she was serving one of her faithful customers, Ruth O'Quigley

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Reasons for Commital to Industrial School in 1939

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Guerin's Londis

Photo from the John Hannon Archive

Garvey's Super Valu is here now.