Saturday, March 17, 2012

Saint Patrick WAS a RURAL man.

Rumour has that St.Patrick first introduced the shamrock at the hill of Tara ,which is only an asses roar from this parish.There is a fair chance he passed through this parish on his travels,though there is no evidence of this.Certainly the parish is dotted with Christian antiquities like the Black Church and the remains of churches in Churchtown,Retaine and Moymet.More likely than not Irish was the spoken language then.It is unlikely that Latin was widely spoken and English was not even invented.
Patrick was brought here as a slave and put to work as a shepherd on a mountainside.He must have liked it as he returned unbidden to spread the Word of God.
He was therefor a Rural man in every sense of the word and spoke Irish.We know that the Kevin Mearses and the Gwen's twomens of this world despise the Irish language,.the Catholic Church and regard the real rural dwellers as little more than muck savages to be discriminated against by penalising them for their independence and regulating them into emigration ,depression ,despair or suicide.
Methinks that maybe the Saint is sowing the green shoots of hope in rural Ireland in general and this parish in particular.
The third musketeer Leo asked me to give a hand with the Conradh Na Gaeilge collection after 11 Mass on Patrick's Day .Glad to help Leo I turned up at 10.30.at which stage the Dunderry Fair people had begun to assemble for guest appearances in Athboy and Navan parades.
First to appear was Dessie Coffey,towing the horses dray complete with creels and full of turf which brother Peter would be showing in the parades to signify rural anger at being debarred from our own bogs .
Surrounded by a gaggle of his own kids and young  Smiths ,Keenan's and Coffey's ,all in period dress,with young Owen on a  high Nellie and a brace of Bonds cycling a tandem in perfect symmetry,his flowing locks took on  a life of their own. .Other exhibits were arriving but I headed into Mass,wher a violinist I don't know excelled ,drawing a round of applause at the end of Mass.
After Mass I headed to Athboy to see the parade.The place was choc a block.Loads of spectators and huge numbers of exhibitors.
Clanna Gael GAA Club,soccer clubs,karate clubs,gun clubs ,Irish dancing schools,assorted charities ,rugby clubs, the autism society,CCE,Rathcairn Irish speaking clubs ,vintage clubs for tractors ,combines ,all sorts of machinery,commecrcial floats,and thousands of children all doing their things with unbridled joy.
Then the rain started .Cold ,persistent ,unrelenting and  peppered with hailstones.It soaked to the shin.For peg leg here there was no escape .I was sopping in minutes and so were all the uncovered exhibitors.Those spectators that could dashed for cover to the pubs and shops .Its an ill wind.Shopkeepers and publicans smiled quietly.But the show went on and the exhibitors stood their ground.Soaked to the skin,thousands of kids followed the example of their elders and displayed the fortitude they will need in rural Ireland to survive.The blue jean queen was really blue and the dry cleaners were smiling.Doctors were bracing their shoulders and rubbing their hands at the anticipated surge in visits from possible pneumatic patients on the morrow.
The Dunderry floats were last.Led by the kids on vintage bikes and fronted by Catherine Foley, a lady Norman, Owen Smith the lord mayor in all his sodden finery and overseen by Mac Kenna, the Chairman of the Board. Old Drudge and young Drudge were  followed by a vintage tractor driven by a tamed (almost )Hatchet and  it stopped to invite me on board the covered float to relieve my obvious discomfort.Fair dues Mac Kenna and Co..
Safely loaded the show progressed.That honorary Dunderry man ,Willie Fay the dealer,had the mike and did a running commentary ,earning the future revenge of every husband whose pub progress he halted by accurately ratting to his missus.He is genuinely witty .
He has his finger on the pulse."Jack Newman here is coming 60.He has 3 acres coming and no woman.There is a want in him .Any takers?"And a butchette rises to the occasion.Want satisfied.?Time will tell.
And then there was Ian the Sec.shepherding the animals with a clatter of Brogans and Martin's ,and Wicklow men with goats and Camogie players and comely maidens giving out free brown bread and no tay and lollipops .And the Black Crow leading Peter's horse pulling a jog of hand cut turf  making the point that we will not be run from our bogs.Lifetime ago the Crow's  uncle Pat was thought to have lost it when he was seen between the shafts of an asses cart pulling a full load of turf with the ass hitched to the back of the cart.Not a bother on Pat though.On the icy road his hob nails gave better traction than than the ass.Perfectly logical and practical.He was better equipped than the ass.
And the ass pulling the cart with the jacks surrounded  by green docks and furze making the point that rather than be bullied on the issue of septic tanks we will give up using them altogether.
"Septic tanks with no flushes,
Just green docks and furze bushes."
And Mickey the butcher with the grandkids in the vintage Model T.Aand the mobile Cottage .And Gus and Olive and Tom  with ewes and lambs and minature horses.The show rolls on.Everybody is drowned.
Mickey Daly Senior stops to carry me back to my car.Then his son John and Mairtin's son ,the image of Seamin invite me in for gargle.Our Helen spots and drags me in for tay and heat.And our Finn  and Aoife and Padraig and Emily and Mags and Niamh meet and compare miseries and we head for the hills.
And back in Dundery the whole menagerie is at the parish hall,drying out,changing clothes ,drinking tay and bracing for the Navan parade to repeat the dose.And they do.
And to Delvin tomorrow.
Our people won't shite on the traces.Rehn and Union and Government take note.
Later rural Ireland produced two matches of passion,from the heart in our Croker..Resilient Crossmaglen.,stubborn Garrycastle,gritty Loughgeil,and  persevering Cooldoire demonstrated the real meaning of place and warmed the cockle's of the heart.Our people.
And the paid professionals on the rugby field swallowed it.
Today in Cork at half time lifelong protagonists Cork and Kerry united during the double bill to leave the Union and its handmaidens in no doubt that we wont tolerate any further humiliations of our heritage in rural schools.
Hon the culchies and Naom Padraig pray for us.You the man.
Happy Patricks Day to all the Irish everywhere.

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