It was absolutely freezing outside tonight.The wind would cut you in two and I would say that any lambs born outside would be in deep trouble.It spilled cutting rain ,sleet and some snow at times today but none stuck.It is freezing cold now at 2,30 A,m,
The Church was packed,standing room only.I sat in the side aisle to the right of the nave as you enter the Church.
There is a kind of regular crew that sit in each side aisle each and every weekend and if any regular was missing you would be worried.
Phil Fay always sits or stands in the left side aisle and Molly in the right side aisle,with the width of the Church between them.They are a long long time married and this may be the secret of their success.
A violinist accompanied by a pianist played during Mass.She was very good.She is a Czech..
The alter was resplendent with a display of flowers and foliage I have never seen the beat of.
There were 9 alter boys and girls and they did the job with aplomb.
The reading was done by one Sheila and Michael Birds's daughters (shame on me I can't think of her name.).She can speak with passion and total clarity.
Marie Casey can move like greased lightening.I say this because someone forgot to put the sheet with the Prayers of the Faithful out for the Priest and the Reader,.She was out of her seat like a bullet ,hurdled the step into the Sacristy like Arkle at his best and in a blur of pure speed had the sheets in place in less time than the blink of an eye..The Camogie women have a ready made mid fielder.
A huge crowd went to Communion.
Father Hornick does not do long sermons.They are straight to the point.Tonight was no different.
I would have to say that his sermons are a bit longer than those of the late Father Mc Carthy.Prior to the voting date on the Divorce referendum a number of years ago ,which was narrowly carried and on which a long Episcopal letter was supposed to be read at all Masses,he held it up and said "If you believe in the law of God you will vote against it (divorce ),but if you want to suit yourself you will vote for it".
Nuff said.
At the end of Mass the violinist played "Silent Night ".After a faltering start the congregation joined in.I cried copiously.This is because that since my stroke I easily get emotional and cry for no discernible reason.
One thing I did notice is that I do not know two thirds of the people.There are a fierce lot of newcomers in the Parish.
I suppose I should be concentrating on my prayers and not spouting this sort of stuff.
I do it to give anyone from Dunderry in exile a picture of what went down tonight.
Nollaig Shona duibh.
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
Derry O Brien,an appreciation.
Dermot William O Brien,for this I believe was his birth name ,was one sound man.And I will tell you why.
First he and his wife Mary (Newman )had three children ,one sounder than the other.Ian and Eunice we all know,love and respect,but there is another who Derry is now hugging and cajoling in the Place where no pain exists and where the other Angels worship the Lord.
Denise (pet name Dolly ) was born with a cndition I cannot currently spell,which involved irreparable brain damage and massive physical disability and of which most sufferers die fairly promptly.
Yet the loving and incessant care lavished on their treasure by Derry,Mary,Ian ,Eunice the Newman family and neighbours resulted in her reaching her teens before she succumbed.A world record in compassion I believe.
They say that the most distressing pain a parent can suffer is the loss of a child.Derry and Mary suffered this pain.And never flinched nor sought sympathy.Ian nd Eunice suffered the loss of a sibling and it is perhaps no coincidence that Eunice chose nursing as a profession.
I have often wondered how Derry and Mary felt when they heard the womb raiders screeching for the murder of perfectly healthy preborn children as a right and have no doubt but that Derry and Mary have more decency in a discarded fingernail than the totality of these child killers.
Secondly Derry had to make a living all during his married life and help support his family .This he also did as well as shouldering the responsibility of massive shared care for Dolly.And he must have done it well because hundreds of his former colleagues in the old Dept,of Posts and Telegraphs formed a huge guard of honour at his packed funeral in Dunderry last Monday.
Thirdly he himself suffered in silence and with dignity for a good while prior to his death and he disguised it well.You would never think when you saw him picking up the grand kids at school that he was as sick as he transpired to be.Even towards the end he was the youngest and freshest 66year old I ever saw.
On a personal level I chose a different sporting path than Derry.I am a GAA man through and through.Derry was a soccer man and a referee of distinction I am told.I did see a few Soccer Blazers at the funeral.
His mother is a Heerey ,a most diverse and Sporting family.Two at least of his uncles played foot ball with Dunderry in the forties and fifties.Others were All Ireland champions in cycling,running and golf I understand.
In fact when I was in Navan Hospital as a result of a stroke four years ago an uncle of his was in the same ward as myself.He was a good conversationalist and as modest as be damn about the sporting achievements of his lifetime but he was sicker than I thought and died a short time afterwards.
Derry's mother 95 years old attended his funeral , a mother burying a child who himself had buried a child.A most distressing occasion.
To his loving wife Mary,his children and his grandchildren and his siblings all in Dunderry offer their sincerest condolences.
Ar Dheis De go raibh a hanam.
First he and his wife Mary (Newman )had three children ,one sounder than the other.Ian and Eunice we all know,love and respect,but there is another who Derry is now hugging and cajoling in the Place where no pain exists and where the other Angels worship the Lord.
Denise (pet name Dolly ) was born with a cndition I cannot currently spell,which involved irreparable brain damage and massive physical disability and of which most sufferers die fairly promptly.
Yet the loving and incessant care lavished on their treasure by Derry,Mary,Ian ,Eunice the Newman family and neighbours resulted in her reaching her teens before she succumbed.A world record in compassion I believe.
They say that the most distressing pain a parent can suffer is the loss of a child.Derry and Mary suffered this pain.And never flinched nor sought sympathy.Ian nd Eunice suffered the loss of a sibling and it is perhaps no coincidence that Eunice chose nursing as a profession.
I have often wondered how Derry and Mary felt when they heard the womb raiders screeching for the murder of perfectly healthy preborn children as a right and have no doubt but that Derry and Mary have more decency in a discarded fingernail than the totality of these child killers.
Secondly Derry had to make a living all during his married life and help support his family .This he also did as well as shouldering the responsibility of massive shared care for Dolly.And he must have done it well because hundreds of his former colleagues in the old Dept,of Posts and Telegraphs formed a huge guard of honour at his packed funeral in Dunderry last Monday.
Thirdly he himself suffered in silence and with dignity for a good while prior to his death and he disguised it well.You would never think when you saw him picking up the grand kids at school that he was as sick as he transpired to be.Even towards the end he was the youngest and freshest 66year old I ever saw.
On a personal level I chose a different sporting path than Derry.I am a GAA man through and through.Derry was a soccer man and a referee of distinction I am told.I did see a few Soccer Blazers at the funeral.
His mother is a Heerey ,a most diverse and Sporting family.Two at least of his uncles played foot ball with Dunderry in the forties and fifties.Others were All Ireland champions in cycling,running and golf I understand.
In fact when I was in Navan Hospital as a result of a stroke four years ago an uncle of his was in the same ward as myself.He was a good conversationalist and as modest as be damn about the sporting achievements of his lifetime but he was sicker than I thought and died a short time afterwards.
Derry's mother 95 years old attended his funeral , a mother burying a child who himself had buried a child.A most distressing occasion.
To his loving wife Mary,his children and his grandchildren and his siblings all in Dunderry offer their sincerest condolences.
Ar Dheis De go raibh a hanam.
Monday, December 23, 2013
Milk of Human Kindness flows in Navan
With a gammy arm and a pronounced limp from a stroke ,walking is a tricky business for moi.
Today I overdid it.I walked from Cannon Row in Navan to the Church to attend the funeral of a man who died with dignity at home,cared for to the end by his sisters Helen and Breda and other family members.
Cancer whipped Martin Fennessy,a decent man who suffered the unnatural loss of a son a few years ago.He was dealt a rough hand in the poker game of life but was never heard to complain.The Church was packed to overflowing in tribute to a brave battler who never threw in the towel.He is an uncle of our Aoife.
Afterwards I went to the Revenue Office in Abbey Road and thence to AIB on Kennedy Road.Whence I headed back for Cannon Row ,making two bulky purchases on the way,which were carried in a largish paper bag and were heavy enough.
I have to use the good hand to use my walking stick and had to double up the load on that hand by carrying the bag also.Progress was laboured to say the least.
And the rain fell and the wind blew.Hard.
Crossing through the Credit Union Car Park I was under severe pressure.I was drowned and my faux fur lined Elmer Fudd hat was dripping with rain.I had to use my walking stick as an aid to help me carry the bag by putting the crook in the stick through the handles of the bag and hoisting it on my shoulder ,a bit like a tramp carrying his load on his back.
Then out of the blue a very concerned lady about my own age very sincerely offered me a fiver and suggested I buy a cup of tea for myself.You could have knocked me with a feather.I thanked her kindly and explained that I was not that poor and gently refused her offering.
I don't know who she is and if she is not an Angel,as I strongly suspect ,thank her from the bottom of my heart.
She is the spirit of Christmas,God bless her.
Today I overdid it.I walked from Cannon Row in Navan to the Church to attend the funeral of a man who died with dignity at home,cared for to the end by his sisters Helen and Breda and other family members.
Cancer whipped Martin Fennessy,a decent man who suffered the unnatural loss of a son a few years ago.He was dealt a rough hand in the poker game of life but was never heard to complain.The Church was packed to overflowing in tribute to a brave battler who never threw in the towel.He is an uncle of our Aoife.
Afterwards I went to the Revenue Office in Abbey Road and thence to AIB on Kennedy Road.Whence I headed back for Cannon Row ,making two bulky purchases on the way,which were carried in a largish paper bag and were heavy enough.
I have to use the good hand to use my walking stick and had to double up the load on that hand by carrying the bag also.Progress was laboured to say the least.
And the rain fell and the wind blew.Hard.
Crossing through the Credit Union Car Park I was under severe pressure.I was drowned and my faux fur lined Elmer Fudd hat was dripping with rain.I had to use my walking stick as an aid to help me carry the bag by putting the crook in the stick through the handles of the bag and hoisting it on my shoulder ,a bit like a tramp carrying his load on his back.
Then out of the blue a very concerned lady about my own age very sincerely offered me a fiver and suggested I buy a cup of tea for myself.You could have knocked me with a feather.I thanked her kindly and explained that I was not that poor and gently refused her offering.
I don't know who she is and if she is not an Angel,as I strongly suspect ,thank her from the bottom of my heart.
She is the spirit of Christmas,God bless her.
Sunday, December 22, 2013
Hello Black Lion ,Cardigan,Wales.
In the start of December the war Office and myself spent two very pleasant days and nights in the Black Lion Hotel in Cardigan Town,a.k.a Aberteifi in Welsh.
We were totally well looked after by the Manager James and his smashing staff.
The building is over 1,000 years old and predates the Castle built in the town.
This is evidenced by the block work where for example you can see ancient oak trusses instead of RSJ all over the place.
The accommodation is fine and en suite,the grub is bang on and the service is first class.
Parking in the town is only 20 pence for an hour and the shopping streets in the town all have ground level shop units with accommodation overhead as far as I could see.
Cardigan is to Wales what Cavan is to Ireland and prices were fierce reasonable when we were there.
The town is in the middle of farming country and is very similar to rural Ireland.
Unlike Ireland however they are not ashamed of their native language and every Welshman and woman I met can and does speak it fluently if not always as a first language.
All in all it is a grand relaxing place to visit ,so happy Christmas James and all in the Black Lion.
We were totally well looked after by the Manager James and his smashing staff.
The building is over 1,000 years old and predates the Castle built in the town.
This is evidenced by the block work where for example you can see ancient oak trusses instead of RSJ all over the place.
The accommodation is fine and en suite,the grub is bang on and the service is first class.
Parking in the town is only 20 pence for an hour and the shopping streets in the town all have ground level shop units with accommodation overhead as far as I could see.
Cardigan is to Wales what Cavan is to Ireland and prices were fierce reasonable when we were there.
The town is in the middle of farming country and is very similar to rural Ireland.
Unlike Ireland however they are not ashamed of their native language and every Welshman and woman I met can and does speak it fluently if not always as a first language.
All in all it is a grand relaxing place to visit ,so happy Christmas James and all in the Black Lion.
Mass Times for Christmas in Dunderry
Christmas Eve.24/12/2013.
Kilbride :6.00 P.M.
Dunderry:7.30 P.M.
Christmas Day.25/12/2013
Robinstown :9.30.A.M.
Dunderry :11.00 A.M.
St.Stephens Day.26/12/2013
Dunderry :10.00.A.M.
Kilbride :6.00 P.M.
Dunderry:7.30 P.M.
Christmas Day.25/12/2013
Robinstown :9.30.A.M.
Dunderry :11.00 A.M.
St.Stephens Day.26/12/2013
Dunderry :10.00.A.M.
Saturday, December 21, 2013
Meath.s Camogie Lead can revolutionise All Gaelic Associations.
You know the way that it costs huge money to prepare County Teams at all levels for Hurling ,Football ,Ladies Football,Most Camogie Counties and all other amateure Sports at representative level.And you know the way that there is a clamour from some deeply dedicated sportspeople for pay to play,i.e.pay the player to play.And you know the way that all the Gaelic Games associations pride themselves on the ethos that values people from all backgrounds and does not discriminate against or between members because of diverse economic backgrounds.
Well unless I am off the wall the Meath Camogie Board has turned this on its head.
It was put to me recently that any eligible player for the age group who wished to train with and be considered for the Under 18 County Team ,would have to fork out E40.00 for the privilege of so training .
I am amazed that no one thought of this before.Were a fee levied by all the County Boards for the privilege of joining the County Teams no County Board would ever be in debt and could potentially make a fortune by limiting places to the highest bidder.
We mightn't n have the best teams but we would surely have the richest.
And feck the poor.
A whole new slant on the proposition of "Pay to Play".
Well unless I am off the wall the Meath Camogie Board has turned this on its head.
It was put to me recently that any eligible player for the age group who wished to train with and be considered for the Under 18 County Team ,would have to fork out E40.00 for the privilege of so training .
I am amazed that no one thought of this before.Were a fee levied by all the County Boards for the privilege of joining the County Teams no County Board would ever be in debt and could potentially make a fortune by limiting places to the highest bidder.
We mightn't n have the best teams but we would surely have the richest.
And feck the poor.
A whole new slant on the proposition of "Pay to Play".
Under 21 B.H.C.F.Dun derry V Kilskyre/Moylough.15/12/2013
On the way to Kildalkey for this Sunday afternoon match the God of Winter woke from his slumber and spat out as nasty a belch of freezing rain and chilling breeze as I have felt for a long time.It lasted a half hour and penetrated to the bone,not a great omen for the impending battle between ourselves and the North Meath combination.
In my time there have been numerous contests between us that went to the wire against both half of the combination in both hurling and football,some of which we lost and some of which we won.I can stretch back nearly two decades to an under 14 Hurling Match in Dunderry where I was the agreed referee and was nevertheless stretched out in a schemmozle .to being put outside the wire after objecting to an agreed referee from the opposition moving the sliotar up to sixty yards for dissent.On several occasions.We won both contests.
The former was re fixed and my eldest son was accidentally split in the face during the replay in Athboy and I spent most of the match in a doctor,s surgery getting his wound stitched.Not a great place to be for the Team manager during the game.We lost narrowly.
About a decade ago Mattie ,Paul and others put a huge effort into reviving hurling at juvenile level in Moylough.I remember bringing a juvenile team there on a bank holiday weekend about a decade ago to participate in a tournament involving a juvenile match between us as a support act to a junior match between them and a Westmeath Team.
They had pulled out all the stops for the day and had magnificently trophies on hand and a catering operation second to none.Our match became the main event as the guest Junior team did a no show.Very disappointing for them but good for us as we ate for three teams and got a trophy,hard earned it must be said.
And then in 2005 when I was manager of Dunderry Senior Football team Ballinlough beat us after extra time in a relegation battle.And shades of the under 14 match a decade earlier, my son Evan had his cruciate snap in the game .I can tell you that carrying your son in a stretcher as he is wincing in pain from a football pitch is not a pleasant experience.We went down by two points to a last minute fisted goal.
The fact that the four semi finalists came from our group of six didn't soothe the pain.Nor did the fact that nearly all village teams now labour in Intermediate status.Two All Ireland winners,Dowd once and Callaghan thrice,amongst others have tried unsuccessfully to get back up.Maybe the Legend who has just got the job for 2014 will succeed.Here's hoping.
I.m sure that the combination teams have similar stories of woe regarding ourselves.Let's put it like this.There is a healthy respect inter se and no quarter is sought nor given and the contest only ends when the fat lady sings.
Those thoughts and the bittersweet memory of last year's defeat in a replay to another combination of Drumree/Blackhall,in which the Drumree joint captain thanked our very own Kevin Dowd for the coaching he had given them, rankled.
And the match was sandwiched between the funerals of the Nailer on Saturday and Derry O Brien the coming Monday.
Surely the Man above woukld allow us some cheer.OR would it be the case that "no sooner has God closed one door in your face than he also slams the second one" as my uncle Joe was wont to say betimes.
The pitch was slippy after the shower and it was cold.No conditions for fancy hurling you would say.The fiver admission fare included a programme naming both teams.The referee was Gerry O Brien.They were there from Crossakiel to Carnaross and Oldcastle to Drumbarragh to support the combination and from Tullaghanstown to Tullaghanogue and Kilcooley to Clonbun to support us.
Dunderry Team.
Luke Martin
Conor Dempsey. Conor O Shea.
Dylan Keenan Brendan Wright Stefan Clarke
Conor Farrell John Moran.
Jordan Martin Killian Minogue Simon Carty
Stephen Coogan Christopher Harrington.
Subs.
Paddy Kenneally,Killian Leonard,Alan Casey and Dara Scannell.
Manager.Mick Minogue,and selectors Kevin Dowd and Tommy Keenan.
IT was not a day for fancy hurling I thought.I would have said safety first and plenty of ground hurling was called for.Which probably explains why I was not asked to be a selector this year again.
But the skill levels of both teams and the ability to get ball to hand under the heaviest of tackling was a sight to behold.There was no player on either side lacking in either skill nor commitment and the referee let go tackles that a less hurling orientated referee would whistle ,frequently.
No soft frees so and equality of treatment to each side.You earned your free.But no hurling man complained.
We were the superior team in the first half.But the effort of both teams was exemplary.We scored 2--5 the first half,only two coming from frees by Minogue,one for a foul on himself.,the other for a foul on Coogan..Harrow garnered a well crafted 2--1 from play and one can only wonder what he is capable of doing with a more intensive training regime.Jordan Martin and Coogan scored a minor apiece from play .
We were motoring well and but Keenan and Moran were slightly below par betimes and we did miss maybe two more scorable chances.
I award a star for each piece of action above and beyond the skill level I expect from players of the age group involved.Surprisingly Dempsey,O Shea ,Wright and Clarke,defenders all , topped my list for the first half.
The combination scored 9 points,,number 11 bagging four,number 10 bagging 3 and number 12 bagging two ,which tells its own story.
Their number 8 was marginally their best player.
Only once did the physicality of the hurling exceed acceptable levels and the fault was not ours.I hate to see anyone getting a red card uncles a vicious,unforgiving and thoroughly unsporting act is perpetrated .On balance, but much to our cost as it would later transpire ,the referee's brandishing of a yellow card was an adequate response.
At half time we rang the changes.Keenan and Lukie swapped positions as did Minogue and Moran.And it worked well,Moran going on to bag two fine minors from play,Keenan having a blinder in goals.Minogue exerting a greater input in matters and Lukie steadying up the ship.
We took marginal control for the next twenty minutes.,with bomber registering a minor and Jordan Mattin scoring three fine points.All other got through an amount of work with Carty running himself into the ground for the cause,But they kept in touch ,never losing hope despite going for goal with a few frees when taking a point would have been wiser.And they reaped their reward when they goaled ten from time to narrow the gap to achievable proportions.
The momentum stayed with them and with 90 seconds to go they drew level,The tension was palpable and I ,at least,thought that the ref should have blown the final whistle and brought it to a replay,as the light was fading rapidly.But no he kept going and they scored a point from play to forge ahead..We had one more chance but Jordan was under horrid pressure and hit wide of the posts.
And then the final whistle.
To the victors the spoils.They were gracious in victory.
We were fecking devastated,having snatched defeat from the jaws of victory.Felt pick pocketed.The lads were devastated and I did see some tears of frustration (players and nmentors ).Hard to blame them.Yet again the Gods had deserted us.
But we only scored 5 points since half time.They scored 1--6,number 12 bagging 1-3, ,number 8 bagging 0-2 and number 10 the winning point.
My star men the second half were Bomber,Jordan Martin,Moran,Wright and O Shea.,which seems strange considering we were outscored in the half,but there you go.
Their best in the half were number 7 and 8 again in my view.
I wouldn't pay too much attention to my ratings are they are just my opinion and like a..h..es everybody has one.
From a neutral' s point of view it was a classic,competitive game of the highest calibre that will long live in the memory of those at it,but this is poor consolation to our boys who will be overage for this competition next year.
The goal has to be the Inter.Championship next year.
Kilskere and Moylough win little enough separately so I for one don't begrudge them one.Enjoy.
In my time there have been numerous contests between us that went to the wire against both half of the combination in both hurling and football,some of which we lost and some of which we won.I can stretch back nearly two decades to an under 14 Hurling Match in Dunderry where I was the agreed referee and was nevertheless stretched out in a schemmozle .to being put outside the wire after objecting to an agreed referee from the opposition moving the sliotar up to sixty yards for dissent.On several occasions.We won both contests.
The former was re fixed and my eldest son was accidentally split in the face during the replay in Athboy and I spent most of the match in a doctor,s surgery getting his wound stitched.Not a great place to be for the Team manager during the game.We lost narrowly.
About a decade ago Mattie ,Paul and others put a huge effort into reviving hurling at juvenile level in Moylough.I remember bringing a juvenile team there on a bank holiday weekend about a decade ago to participate in a tournament involving a juvenile match between us as a support act to a junior match between them and a Westmeath Team.
They had pulled out all the stops for the day and had magnificently trophies on hand and a catering operation second to none.Our match became the main event as the guest Junior team did a no show.Very disappointing for them but good for us as we ate for three teams and got a trophy,hard earned it must be said.
And then in 2005 when I was manager of Dunderry Senior Football team Ballinlough beat us after extra time in a relegation battle.And shades of the under 14 match a decade earlier, my son Evan had his cruciate snap in the game .I can tell you that carrying your son in a stretcher as he is wincing in pain from a football pitch is not a pleasant experience.We went down by two points to a last minute fisted goal.
The fact that the four semi finalists came from our group of six didn't soothe the pain.Nor did the fact that nearly all village teams now labour in Intermediate status.Two All Ireland winners,Dowd once and Callaghan thrice,amongst others have tried unsuccessfully to get back up.Maybe the Legend who has just got the job for 2014 will succeed.Here's hoping.
I.m sure that the combination teams have similar stories of woe regarding ourselves.Let's put it like this.There is a healthy respect inter se and no quarter is sought nor given and the contest only ends when the fat lady sings.
Those thoughts and the bittersweet memory of last year's defeat in a replay to another combination of Drumree/Blackhall,in which the Drumree joint captain thanked our very own Kevin Dowd for the coaching he had given them, rankled.
And the match was sandwiched between the funerals of the Nailer on Saturday and Derry O Brien the coming Monday.
Surely the Man above woukld allow us some cheer.OR would it be the case that "no sooner has God closed one door in your face than he also slams the second one" as my uncle Joe was wont to say betimes.
The pitch was slippy after the shower and it was cold.No conditions for fancy hurling you would say.The fiver admission fare included a programme naming both teams.The referee was Gerry O Brien.They were there from Crossakiel to Carnaross and Oldcastle to Drumbarragh to support the combination and from Tullaghanstown to Tullaghanogue and Kilcooley to Clonbun to support us.
Dunderry Team.
Luke Martin
Conor Dempsey. Conor O Shea.
Dylan Keenan Brendan Wright Stefan Clarke
Conor Farrell John Moran.
Jordan Martin Killian Minogue Simon Carty
Stephen Coogan Christopher Harrington.
Subs.
Paddy Kenneally,Killian Leonard,Alan Casey and Dara Scannell.
Manager.Mick Minogue,and selectors Kevin Dowd and Tommy Keenan.
IT was not a day for fancy hurling I thought.I would have said safety first and plenty of ground hurling was called for.Which probably explains why I was not asked to be a selector this year again.
But the skill levels of both teams and the ability to get ball to hand under the heaviest of tackling was a sight to behold.There was no player on either side lacking in either skill nor commitment and the referee let go tackles that a less hurling orientated referee would whistle ,frequently.
No soft frees so and equality of treatment to each side.You earned your free.But no hurling man complained.
We were the superior team in the first half.But the effort of both teams was exemplary.We scored 2--5 the first half,only two coming from frees by Minogue,one for a foul on himself.,the other for a foul on Coogan..Harrow garnered a well crafted 2--1 from play and one can only wonder what he is capable of doing with a more intensive training regime.Jordan Martin and Coogan scored a minor apiece from play .
We were motoring well and but Keenan and Moran were slightly below par betimes and we did miss maybe two more scorable chances.
I award a star for each piece of action above and beyond the skill level I expect from players of the age group involved.Surprisingly Dempsey,O Shea ,Wright and Clarke,defenders all , topped my list for the first half.
The combination scored 9 points,,number 11 bagging four,number 10 bagging 3 and number 12 bagging two ,which tells its own story.
Their number 8 was marginally their best player.
Only once did the physicality of the hurling exceed acceptable levels and the fault was not ours.I hate to see anyone getting a red card uncles a vicious,unforgiving and thoroughly unsporting act is perpetrated .On balance, but much to our cost as it would later transpire ,the referee's brandishing of a yellow card was an adequate response.
At half time we rang the changes.Keenan and Lukie swapped positions as did Minogue and Moran.And it worked well,Moran going on to bag two fine minors from play,Keenan having a blinder in goals.Minogue exerting a greater input in matters and Lukie steadying up the ship.
We took marginal control for the next twenty minutes.,with bomber registering a minor and Jordan Mattin scoring three fine points.All other got through an amount of work with Carty running himself into the ground for the cause,But they kept in touch ,never losing hope despite going for goal with a few frees when taking a point would have been wiser.And they reaped their reward when they goaled ten from time to narrow the gap to achievable proportions.
The momentum stayed with them and with 90 seconds to go they drew level,The tension was palpable and I ,at least,thought that the ref should have blown the final whistle and brought it to a replay,as the light was fading rapidly.But no he kept going and they scored a point from play to forge ahead..We had one more chance but Jordan was under horrid pressure and hit wide of the posts.
And then the final whistle.
To the victors the spoils.They were gracious in victory.
We were fecking devastated,having snatched defeat from the jaws of victory.Felt pick pocketed.The lads were devastated and I did see some tears of frustration (players and nmentors ).Hard to blame them.Yet again the Gods had deserted us.
But we only scored 5 points since half time.They scored 1--6,number 12 bagging 1-3, ,number 8 bagging 0-2 and number 10 the winning point.
My star men the second half were Bomber,Jordan Martin,Moran,Wright and O Shea.,which seems strange considering we were outscored in the half,but there you go.
Their best in the half were number 7 and 8 again in my view.
I wouldn't pay too much attention to my ratings are they are just my opinion and like a..h..es everybody has one.
From a neutral' s point of view it was a classic,competitive game of the highest calibre that will long live in the memory of those at it,but this is poor consolation to our boys who will be overage for this competition next year.
The goal has to be the Inter.Championship next year.
Kilskere and Moylough win little enough separately so I for one don't begrudge them one.Enjoy.
Thursday, December 19, 2013
The summer of 1966
I did my Inter Cert in 1966.Its present day equivalent is the Junior Certificate.I dis fairly well in the exam.My father did a deal with me earlier in the year in which he promised that if I passed a certain number of subjects he would give me the price of a tent.And so it came to pass.
He gave me a fiver,a small fortune in those days.With it I purchased a second hand Army tent in Alpha Bargains in Capel Street ,as far as I remember.
I was 16 years old and my brother Robert was 14 years old.We came down on holidays to the Mc Cormacks in Churchtown ,as was our wont in those days.
For some reason Tommy wasn't working and Pat Rattigan was out of work having been injured and recuperating from a motor bike accident (someone crashed into him while he was driving his Honda 50.).
There was very little money around and someone hit on the idea of having a camping holiday around Ireland.
So myself,Robert ,Tommy and Pat sallied forth in Tommy's green mini van,replete with one only canvass tent ,one only frying pan,one only kettle and taypot,an assortment of blankets and pillows well past their sell by date and just about enough money to cover vittles and petrol.
We had no groundsheet for the tent and could not afford a roll of plastic to cover it with to keep out heavy rain.
And into the West with us.
The first night we spent at the side of a boreen looking down on Galway.We all fitted in the tent and lay on blankets on the grass .Rattigan slept on his side and such was the gap between his shoulders and his neck that the pillow wouldn't fill it and I can still hear him saying "give me the fucking frying pan so I can put it under the pillow and straighten out my neck and get some sleep."
And we all dozed off
.Only to be awoken before dawn by floods of water under us running off the boreen and dripping down on us from the porous canvas overhead.Thoroughly soaked we spent the rest of the night in the van,cramped like sardines.
At daylight we headed up country towards north Galway,and Mayo.I remember marvelling at the beauty of Carraroe,Connemara and further up the County.
All the time the man were discussing how to minimise the drowning of the previous night and the scarcity of money to help out.
And so THE PLAN was hatched.It was this.Find a ball alley close to a bog with cocked hay handy.WE did that night and each subsequent night.We would pull up and pitch the tent at the side of the alley sheltered from the prevailing wind.Then at dusk we would quietly take the dry innards from a few cocks of hay and place it on the ground under the blankets and sleep away,Pat used stuff his pillow with hay to raise it to the level he needed.
At dawn we would put the hay back into the cocks and Pat would light a fire from sods of turf ,put the pan on,do the tastiest fry you could imagine and follow up with tay like nectar.
When we moved on no evidence of our stay was apparent.
The weather kept up and we had a week that still lingers.
The only sour note was when we were at the butt of Donegal and Robert and I wanted to go up to the very top but Tommy wanted to return home.Pat had the casting vote on where to stop that night,He said "We will stop above bye and bye" and home we came.
There is no point to this story only to marvel at the good nature of theses men and how they conjured up such a magical holiday for two gosoons out of nothing.
How I loved them and still do.
He gave me a fiver,a small fortune in those days.With it I purchased a second hand Army tent in Alpha Bargains in Capel Street ,as far as I remember.
I was 16 years old and my brother Robert was 14 years old.We came down on holidays to the Mc Cormacks in Churchtown ,as was our wont in those days.
For some reason Tommy wasn't working and Pat Rattigan was out of work having been injured and recuperating from a motor bike accident (someone crashed into him while he was driving his Honda 50.).
There was very little money around and someone hit on the idea of having a camping holiday around Ireland.
So myself,Robert ,Tommy and Pat sallied forth in Tommy's green mini van,replete with one only canvass tent ,one only frying pan,one only kettle and taypot,an assortment of blankets and pillows well past their sell by date and just about enough money to cover vittles and petrol.
We had no groundsheet for the tent and could not afford a roll of plastic to cover it with to keep out heavy rain.
And into the West with us.
The first night we spent at the side of a boreen looking down on Galway.We all fitted in the tent and lay on blankets on the grass .Rattigan slept on his side and such was the gap between his shoulders and his neck that the pillow wouldn't fill it and I can still hear him saying "give me the fucking frying pan so I can put it under the pillow and straighten out my neck and get some sleep."
And we all dozed off
.Only to be awoken before dawn by floods of water under us running off the boreen and dripping down on us from the porous canvas overhead.Thoroughly soaked we spent the rest of the night in the van,cramped like sardines.
At daylight we headed up country towards north Galway,and Mayo.I remember marvelling at the beauty of Carraroe,Connemara and further up the County.
All the time the man were discussing how to minimise the drowning of the previous night and the scarcity of money to help out.
And so THE PLAN was hatched.It was this.Find a ball alley close to a bog with cocked hay handy.WE did that night and each subsequent night.We would pull up and pitch the tent at the side of the alley sheltered from the prevailing wind.Then at dusk we would quietly take the dry innards from a few cocks of hay and place it on the ground under the blankets and sleep away,Pat used stuff his pillow with hay to raise it to the level he needed.
At dawn we would put the hay back into the cocks and Pat would light a fire from sods of turf ,put the pan on,do the tastiest fry you could imagine and follow up with tay like nectar.
When we moved on no evidence of our stay was apparent.
The weather kept up and we had a week that still lingers.
The only sour note was when we were at the butt of Donegal and Robert and I wanted to go up to the very top but Tommy wanted to return home.Pat had the casting vote on where to stop that night,He said "We will stop above bye and bye" and home we came.
There is no point to this story only to marvel at the good nature of theses men and how they conjured up such a magical holiday for two gosoons out of nothing.
How I loved them and still do.
Saturday, December 14, 2013
End of the line for the Nailer.
Today the cold wet clay fell on the coffin of Niall Smith ,Dressogue,Athboy ,a proud native of Dunderry,a husband to Marie,a father to Fiona,Nigel and Francis,a brother to Marie (Dalton ) a grandfather ,a father in law,a neighbour,a friend and a man whose existence will long live in the memory of all those who knew him.
Those close to him knew knew that he was tortured betimes but never suspected that his agonies would be terminated so tragically and would weigh so heavily on all ,particularly his immediate family who are in a state of utter shock and bewilderment.
Not inappropriately his burial took place in Dunderry Graveyard on a weekend of tempest and drenching rain similar to the prevailing conditions of THE MAN in whom he totally believed and who died over 2,000 years ago.
I don't doubt for one second that himself,the Showman,the Old Showman,Metal Mickey and Skin are driving the Highways of Heaven,free of multi agency checks ,insufferable work smothering regulations ,breakdowns and with a full order book of back loads in the full and beaming approval of Jesus Christ.
Dunderry Church was absolutely packed last evening as his mortal remains arrived there for the last time and was thronged also this morning for his funeral Mass .Both occasions were sombre events as is fitting and his sons,daughter ,nieces and extended families paid heart rending tribute to a man so desperately missed and a life so well lived, albeit far too shortly spent.
Father Hornick,ably assisted by his Athboy counterpart ,presided admirably over the ceremonies and if there is a better singer than Paddy Mc Garry for these occasions ,I have yet to hear him.
I do hope that he appreciates fully the unreal talent that God bestowed on him,
The fact that he often shared a session with the Nailer,and indeed myself in the days of yore inspired him to impart the proper amount of passion and poignancy into the well chosen hymns sung.
It took ages for all the sympathisers to commiserate with the family and file past the coffin on both Friday and today.I'd wager that Nailer would never have dreamt that he so many and so dispersed good and true friends.
The Nailer and his clan has history,all good,with myself and my mother's people the Mc Cormacks going back the generations.The old Showman and Joe and Tommy Mc Cormack were Shinners a lifetime ago. Tommy reverted to Labour at a time when Labour were proud to advance the cause of working people.
I ran as an Independent for the last Dail.About two weeks before the election the Nailer called to the house and offerd me the benefit of his experience in spreading the good news of my candidature ,an offer I gladly accepted.And canvass he did.
Then a week before the Election ,surprise of surprisesm RTE came to my house to interview me for "The week in politics "programme.The weather was like today and we were on tender hooks awaiting the arrival of the crew,who were delayed with a puncture in what was Indian territory to them.
When they did arrive like drowned rats we had no idea what format the interview was going to take and had each practised our lines .
They interviewed me separately from Nailer and very kindly explained to him that his chance would come on another day.He accepted this graciously and took it in his stride.
I made the introductory headline appearance in the programme subsequently.publicity money could not buy.
Maybe Nailer got the hump as a week later he was canvassing for Sinn Fein, a throwback to his father's genes maybe,In any event he backed a winner in Peadar Tobin.No fool he.
It wouldn't be the first time that Nailer and family helped us out.In the late 1980's Tommy Mac moved into a shed behind their house in Dressogue to shepherd hogget ewes through the lambing period.Tommy never believed in doing things by half and was a shepherd in the real sense of the word.
He lived in the shed for over a month and was cared for and fed like a King by Nailer and Marie.
He didn't lose even one lamb.I kid you not.
Anyone who knows about these things will tell you that if you handle a hogget's lamb the human scent will more often than not cause her to abandon the lamb.Tommy overcame this by turning a sheet of galvanise into a crude sleigh by attaching a rope harness and poking any distressed newly born lamb onto the sleigh with the toe of his boot and pulling it into the shed with the hogget continuously smelling the lamb as it was in transit.
When inside he had the door rigged for quick shutting and lamb and hogget mother would be coaxed back to full health under the heat of the Super Ser.
I tell a white lie when I say thart not even one lamb was lost.One was lost and it was my fault.It happened like this.
One Sunday he wanted a break and asked me to go on duty,which I did.One ewe was unable to deliver and I caught her and put my hand in to deliver the lamb.But the lamb was coming wrong and I had to manipulate the tiny front leg to get her into delivery position.I felt a snap but delivered a live lamb in the end.But she couldn't stand up as a front leg was broken by my clumsiness.After the ewe took to the lamb the vet put on plaster of Paris and a splint on the break.Unfortunately too long a period was let expire before the cast was removed and the circulation had been cut off and the leg had to be amputated.She lived for a few months on three legs but was slaughtered before her time as she eventually could not bear her weight.
Tommy was a very clever man and learned from this experience.When a similar break arose subsequently,he cured it himself.Figuring that the plaster was too rigid,he devise a splint made of plastering scrim,ice pop sticks and melted tar,which was poured on the scrim,absorbed by it and stretched with the growth of the lamb's leg.
Anyhow the point is that the Smiths treated Tommy and myself like royaltyand often brought a very young Fiona and Nigel to our house,where if memory serves ,they particularly had a likeness for Agnes's gravy.
I in turn helped Nailer when I was in a position to.
Nigel had a brief but enjoyable hurling career under my tutelage.That is when himself and Gerry Murrray were not hiding in the fields to avoid being collected.I usually found them .Another connection was that our Mags worked with Marie and Nigel in the Lodge where they formed close bonds that persist to this day.
I know Francie since he was a young child.A grand chap.
And Nigel's partner,who also read at Mass ,is a former Camogie player I coached in her youth.A lovely woman.
But no tribute to Nailer would be complete without reference to the mechanical love of his life,trucks and trucking.
"Smith International " was the legend under which he and Frank a.k.a the Showman and betimes "Rodger Rabbit " ,traded in their prime and which name he preserved up to his untimely death.
I remember them in their prime inn Dunderrry when they were at the top of their trucking game and had a good few rigs on the road.Showman and himself were an odd pair for brothers and partners.Showman was well over six foot and built like a bull,with a tenor voice.Nailer was barely over five foot with a deep baritone voice.I often thought that the Lord got the voices mixed up ,but maybe not.One complimented the other.
Two other men,both now dead also wee on the crew,Michael Wimsey (A..K A Metal Mickey,further abbreviated to "Metal") and Joe Mc Nally (a.k.a "Skin").
One Saturday myself and Tommy Mc Cormack were working on a machine beside the boys who were laying a new wooden floor in a full length trailer.All day long the banter was magic.Not once was anyone on the Smith International crew called their Christian name,with roars of "Showman","Nailer","Metal" and "Skin"good naturedly filling the air.
Of that crew I am the only survivor."Metal " too died tragically,"Showman" of cancer at far too young an age,"Skin " of breathing difficulties and Tommy of cancer.I was spared when suffering a severe stroke four years ago.
These man lived like men and were independent to the nth.degree.
When these boys were in full business bloom in the late eighties and before "Showman's "death there was some buzz around Dunderry.Top shelves were emptied ,craic was had,Nailers courtship of Marie was celebrated often and well and full loads were dispersed worldwide,no bother at all.
And Father Enda narrowly missed being decapitated by a half block through a Pub window .while enjoying a well earned pint of the black stuff.A story for another day.
An uncle of mine suffered from Maniac Depression for most of his life.Nowadays it is called "Bipolar" I think.I am not a doctor nor an expert on this condition but know well that when the chemical balance of the brain is out of synch it can kick in and periods of sleepless elation are succeeded by periods of deep depression.Highs and Lows in my language.
Maybe Nailer had this condition.I don't know.
What I do know is that a number of months ago he was out of sorts and maybe fell off the wagon a few times.I left him home on a few occasions.He unburdened himself to me.Total love for his family I hasten to add.But he was a tortured man and felt pressurised.
I never thought that this would be the result.
I have long held that people who die as he did should have their dealings with State institutions in the run up to death examined to l see whether lessons could be learned to improve future outcomes and hope this happens here.
Let me hasten to add that I am not apportioning blame to anybody.It was one of these unforeseeable things.
Musketeers Liam is married to Niall's sister.They have buried his brother, mother and now Niall in quick succession.Fiona buried premature twins in recent times.
Lord help us all.and pray for his family in particular.
Ar Dheis De go raibh a hanam dilis.
P.S.I have been informed today that Nial was convicted of drink driving three weeks before his death and as a consequence barred from driving for four years.Given that the only occupation he ever had was truck driving and that he was in his sixties ,as far as I know ,that was the end of his working life in reality.
He was clearly unwell mentally in recent times and its not that long since he was in the physciatric unit in Navan.
As a self employed man he would have very little entitlements under the Social Welfare system.
There are all sorts of investigations into top up payments to charity bosses and the journalists are having a field day.Nobody died as a result of these top up payments.
Nial Smith is dead.
Did the three branches of the State talk to each other before the sentence above was imposed on Nial?
Has anybody involved in the charging and sentencing process even a tinge of regret ?Does anybody give a continental fuck about Nial and his family?
Given that it is the anniversary of another Meath man who died tragically.Shane Mc Entee,will Fine Gael pay anything other than pay lip service to tackling suicide amongst men and look closely at what happened to Nial to see if lessons can be learned for the future ?
Your guess is as good as mine but I will not be holding my breath.
I stress that I am not apportioning blame to anybody involves in the process but would like to know if a holistic approach was taken in his particular circumstances.
The say that the mark of a civilised society is how it treats its weaker members.Nailer was as down as it gets.
Those close to him knew knew that he was tortured betimes but never suspected that his agonies would be terminated so tragically and would weigh so heavily on all ,particularly his immediate family who are in a state of utter shock and bewilderment.
Not inappropriately his burial took place in Dunderry Graveyard on a weekend of tempest and drenching rain similar to the prevailing conditions of THE MAN in whom he totally believed and who died over 2,000 years ago.
I don't doubt for one second that himself,the Showman,the Old Showman,Metal Mickey and Skin are driving the Highways of Heaven,free of multi agency checks ,insufferable work smothering regulations ,breakdowns and with a full order book of back loads in the full and beaming approval of Jesus Christ.
Dunderry Church was absolutely packed last evening as his mortal remains arrived there for the last time and was thronged also this morning for his funeral Mass .Both occasions were sombre events as is fitting and his sons,daughter ,nieces and extended families paid heart rending tribute to a man so desperately missed and a life so well lived, albeit far too shortly spent.
Father Hornick,ably assisted by his Athboy counterpart ,presided admirably over the ceremonies and if there is a better singer than Paddy Mc Garry for these occasions ,I have yet to hear him.
I do hope that he appreciates fully the unreal talent that God bestowed on him,
The fact that he often shared a session with the Nailer,and indeed myself in the days of yore inspired him to impart the proper amount of passion and poignancy into the well chosen hymns sung.
It took ages for all the sympathisers to commiserate with the family and file past the coffin on both Friday and today.I'd wager that Nailer would never have dreamt that he so many and so dispersed good and true friends.
The Nailer and his clan has history,all good,with myself and my mother's people the Mc Cormacks going back the generations.The old Showman and Joe and Tommy Mc Cormack were Shinners a lifetime ago. Tommy reverted to Labour at a time when Labour were proud to advance the cause of working people.
I ran as an Independent for the last Dail.About two weeks before the election the Nailer called to the house and offerd me the benefit of his experience in spreading the good news of my candidature ,an offer I gladly accepted.And canvass he did.
Then a week before the Election ,surprise of surprisesm RTE came to my house to interview me for "The week in politics "programme.The weather was like today and we were on tender hooks awaiting the arrival of the crew,who were delayed with a puncture in what was Indian territory to them.
When they did arrive like drowned rats we had no idea what format the interview was going to take and had each practised our lines .
They interviewed me separately from Nailer and very kindly explained to him that his chance would come on another day.He accepted this graciously and took it in his stride.
I made the introductory headline appearance in the programme subsequently.publicity money could not buy.
Maybe Nailer got the hump as a week later he was canvassing for Sinn Fein, a throwback to his father's genes maybe,In any event he backed a winner in Peadar Tobin.No fool he.
It wouldn't be the first time that Nailer and family helped us out.In the late 1980's Tommy Mac moved into a shed behind their house in Dressogue to shepherd hogget ewes through the lambing period.Tommy never believed in doing things by half and was a shepherd in the real sense of the word.
He lived in the shed for over a month and was cared for and fed like a King by Nailer and Marie.
He didn't lose even one lamb.I kid you not.
Anyone who knows about these things will tell you that if you handle a hogget's lamb the human scent will more often than not cause her to abandon the lamb.Tommy overcame this by turning a sheet of galvanise into a crude sleigh by attaching a rope harness and poking any distressed newly born lamb onto the sleigh with the toe of his boot and pulling it into the shed with the hogget continuously smelling the lamb as it was in transit.
When inside he had the door rigged for quick shutting and lamb and hogget mother would be coaxed back to full health under the heat of the Super Ser.
I tell a white lie when I say thart not even one lamb was lost.One was lost and it was my fault.It happened like this.
One Sunday he wanted a break and asked me to go on duty,which I did.One ewe was unable to deliver and I caught her and put my hand in to deliver the lamb.But the lamb was coming wrong and I had to manipulate the tiny front leg to get her into delivery position.I felt a snap but delivered a live lamb in the end.But she couldn't stand up as a front leg was broken by my clumsiness.After the ewe took to the lamb the vet put on plaster of Paris and a splint on the break.Unfortunately too long a period was let expire before the cast was removed and the circulation had been cut off and the leg had to be amputated.She lived for a few months on three legs but was slaughtered before her time as she eventually could not bear her weight.
Tommy was a very clever man and learned from this experience.When a similar break arose subsequently,he cured it himself.Figuring that the plaster was too rigid,he devise a splint made of plastering scrim,ice pop sticks and melted tar,which was poured on the scrim,absorbed by it and stretched with the growth of the lamb's leg.
Anyhow the point is that the Smiths treated Tommy and myself like royaltyand often brought a very young Fiona and Nigel to our house,where if memory serves ,they particularly had a likeness for Agnes's gravy.
I in turn helped Nailer when I was in a position to.
Nigel had a brief but enjoyable hurling career under my tutelage.That is when himself and Gerry Murrray were not hiding in the fields to avoid being collected.I usually found them .Another connection was that our Mags worked with Marie and Nigel in the Lodge where they formed close bonds that persist to this day.
I know Francie since he was a young child.A grand chap.
And Nigel's partner,who also read at Mass ,is a former Camogie player I coached in her youth.A lovely woman.
But no tribute to Nailer would be complete without reference to the mechanical love of his life,trucks and trucking.
"Smith International " was the legend under which he and Frank a.k.a the Showman and betimes "Rodger Rabbit " ,traded in their prime and which name he preserved up to his untimely death.
I remember them in their prime inn Dunderrry when they were at the top of their trucking game and had a good few rigs on the road.Showman and himself were an odd pair for brothers and partners.Showman was well over six foot and built like a bull,with a tenor voice.Nailer was barely over five foot with a deep baritone voice.I often thought that the Lord got the voices mixed up ,but maybe not.One complimented the other.
Two other men,both now dead also wee on the crew,Michael Wimsey (A..K A Metal Mickey,further abbreviated to "Metal") and Joe Mc Nally (a.k.a "Skin").
One Saturday myself and Tommy Mc Cormack were working on a machine beside the boys who were laying a new wooden floor in a full length trailer.All day long the banter was magic.Not once was anyone on the Smith International crew called their Christian name,with roars of "Showman","Nailer","Metal" and "Skin"good naturedly filling the air.
Of that crew I am the only survivor."Metal " too died tragically,"Showman" of cancer at far too young an age,"Skin " of breathing difficulties and Tommy of cancer.I was spared when suffering a severe stroke four years ago.
These man lived like men and were independent to the nth.degree.
When these boys were in full business bloom in the late eighties and before "Showman's "death there was some buzz around Dunderry.Top shelves were emptied ,craic was had,Nailers courtship of Marie was celebrated often and well and full loads were dispersed worldwide,no bother at all.
And Father Enda narrowly missed being decapitated by a half block through a Pub window .while enjoying a well earned pint of the black stuff.A story for another day.
An uncle of mine suffered from Maniac Depression for most of his life.Nowadays it is called "Bipolar" I think.I am not a doctor nor an expert on this condition but know well that when the chemical balance of the brain is out of synch it can kick in and periods of sleepless elation are succeeded by periods of deep depression.Highs and Lows in my language.
Maybe Nailer had this condition.I don't know.
What I do know is that a number of months ago he was out of sorts and maybe fell off the wagon a few times.I left him home on a few occasions.He unburdened himself to me.Total love for his family I hasten to add.But he was a tortured man and felt pressurised.
I never thought that this would be the result.
I have long held that people who die as he did should have their dealings with State institutions in the run up to death examined to l see whether lessons could be learned to improve future outcomes and hope this happens here.
Let me hasten to add that I am not apportioning blame to anybody.It was one of these unforeseeable things.
Musketeers Liam is married to Niall's sister.They have buried his brother, mother and now Niall in quick succession.Fiona buried premature twins in recent times.
Lord help us all.and pray for his family in particular.
Ar Dheis De go raibh a hanam dilis.
P.S.I have been informed today that Nial was convicted of drink driving three weeks before his death and as a consequence barred from driving for four years.Given that the only occupation he ever had was truck driving and that he was in his sixties ,as far as I know ,that was the end of his working life in reality.
He was clearly unwell mentally in recent times and its not that long since he was in the physciatric unit in Navan.
As a self employed man he would have very little entitlements under the Social Welfare system.
There are all sorts of investigations into top up payments to charity bosses and the journalists are having a field day.Nobody died as a result of these top up payments.
Nial Smith is dead.
Did the three branches of the State talk to each other before the sentence above was imposed on Nial?
Has anybody involved in the charging and sentencing process even a tinge of regret ?Does anybody give a continental fuck about Nial and his family?
Given that it is the anniversary of another Meath man who died tragically.Shane Mc Entee,will Fine Gael pay anything other than pay lip service to tackling suicide amongst men and look closely at what happened to Nial to see if lessons can be learned for the future ?
Your guess is as good as mine but I will not be holding my breath.
I stress that I am not apportioning blame to anybody involves in the process but would like to know if a holistic approach was taken in his particular circumstances.
The say that the mark of a civilised society is how it treats its weaker members.Nailer was as down as it gets.
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
The modern plantation of Ireland.
I am the originator of the phrase "living in fear"as I. used it on my election literature in the last general election.
And it has come to pass,big time in what is left of Ireland under Enda and Eamon et all.
They have broken the most basic of undertakings given before the last election ,when they said on public television that they would not countenance evictions from family homes.
Not only have they reneged on this but they have legislated to make it easier when the Courts blocked it.
Now Ireland is being sold piece by piece to the Gall for half nothing while the native people either emigrate by the new time or are forced into homelessness under the watch of the Blue shirts and the Stickies.
I find it disgusting to look at some old photographs of GAA teams and see lined up in them as team mates members of the above parties who are now overseeing the eviction of their former team mates.
Truly this Government is Cromwell's spiritual successor.
And it has come to pass,big time in what is left of Ireland under Enda and Eamon et all.
They have broken the most basic of undertakings given before the last election ,when they said on public television that they would not countenance evictions from family homes.
Not only have they reneged on this but they have legislated to make it easier when the Courts blocked it.
Now Ireland is being sold piece by piece to the Gall for half nothing while the native people either emigrate by the new time or are forced into homelessness under the watch of the Blue shirts and the Stickies.
I find it disgusting to look at some old photographs of GAA teams and see lined up in them as team mates members of the above parties who are now overseeing the eviction of their former team mates.
Truly this Government is Cromwell's spiritual successor.
A tale of contrasts.
Yesterday evening Dunderry National School put on its annual Carol service in a packed Dunderry Church.I was there as guest of Evan and Aoife and Glenda and Edward to witness first hand the choral ability of my grandchildren Padraic and Caoire.
I was not disappointed as all the Schoolchildren put on a magnificent show celebrating the birth of Christ in true Catholic fashion.
It was edifying to see that so many past pupils have decided to send their children to the same school that they themselves were educated in.Clearly they are very satisfied with the education they themselves got and wanting only the best for their children are as proud as punch to have them educated here.
And they are dead right.It was glaringly obvious that the teachers had put a huge effort into preparing their charges for the concert as they were word and note perfect ,both in English and as Gaeilge.
The classes performed in ascending order from the youngest to the oldest.And what the beer drinker said about pints of the black stuff "there is no such thing as a bad pint,only good ones and better ones" had application to the performances in that there were only good ones and better ones.
We had traditional carols ,contemporaneous ballads and even a Dunderry Rap.
I pads .I phones ,Tablets and conventional cameras were in constant use as another generation of mammies and daddies secured prime position to record for posterity the heroics of their progeny.
Afterwards al were invited to the Parish Hall for refreshments and the draw ,for which there were 40 prizes.
On a personal level I take pride that two parishioners and former camogie players I coached,Aimee Cregan and Kate Martyn are now school marms in the school.Only the best for the best and I must say the Mrs Kiely is steering a steady course at the helm.
And of course the real and shy Capo ,Father Hornick is playing a blinder.
All in all a very pleasant and rewarding occasion.
It was therefor with some trepidation that I sat down this evening to watch the Vincent Brown show as it discussed the latest audit on the Catholic orders and Diocese on the issue of child protection.
I have taken it for granted this long time that Vincent would assemble a panel as prejudiced and bigoted against Catholicism as he himself is to "discuss " the matter.And I was not disappointed .He set the tone by equating allegations with proven facts and distorted the "discussion ab initio.Patsi Mc Garry,who has never displayed any balance on the matter gladly rowed in ,some approach for a self styled journalist,a wan from One in Four who is routinely wheeled out to belittle Catholicism ,opined that Catholic Clergy should not avail of the legal protections available to all other citizens and roll over on the making of an allegation,as if none of the allegations ever made were false and motivated by filthy lucre,(as a Lady judge pronounced recently about a black Catholic nun in a motor crash case) ( one wonders whether lady judges have become so anti Catholic at this stage that it is a waste of time going to Court at all if you are a member of a Catholic religious order ) and the coup de grace was a so called Theologian who described the Catholic Church as "toxic" if I heard right and suffers from as bad a case of penis envy as I have ever encountered.
As they say around here she is fierce well balanced ,with an equal bundle of chips on each shoulder.And she capped it all by belittling Padraic Pearse for daring to fight for the freedom of his country.What a yoke.
Yes the bush telegraph of Hell was in overdrive in assembling such a sulphuric assholery.
I went to the Christian Brothers for five years as a day pupil.I think more of the discarded nail clipping of the least of these men than the totality of the bigoted mouthpieces on display in that insult to decency.
Some contrast between both events.
I was not disappointed as all the Schoolchildren put on a magnificent show celebrating the birth of Christ in true Catholic fashion.
It was edifying to see that so many past pupils have decided to send their children to the same school that they themselves were educated in.Clearly they are very satisfied with the education they themselves got and wanting only the best for their children are as proud as punch to have them educated here.
And they are dead right.It was glaringly obvious that the teachers had put a huge effort into preparing their charges for the concert as they were word and note perfect ,both in English and as Gaeilge.
The classes performed in ascending order from the youngest to the oldest.And what the beer drinker said about pints of the black stuff "there is no such thing as a bad pint,only good ones and better ones" had application to the performances in that there were only good ones and better ones.
We had traditional carols ,contemporaneous ballads and even a Dunderry Rap.
I pads .I phones ,Tablets and conventional cameras were in constant use as another generation of mammies and daddies secured prime position to record for posterity the heroics of their progeny.
Afterwards al were invited to the Parish Hall for refreshments and the draw ,for which there were 40 prizes.
On a personal level I take pride that two parishioners and former camogie players I coached,Aimee Cregan and Kate Martyn are now school marms in the school.Only the best for the best and I must say the Mrs Kiely is steering a steady course at the helm.
And of course the real and shy Capo ,Father Hornick is playing a blinder.
All in all a very pleasant and rewarding occasion.
It was therefor with some trepidation that I sat down this evening to watch the Vincent Brown show as it discussed the latest audit on the Catholic orders and Diocese on the issue of child protection.
I have taken it for granted this long time that Vincent would assemble a panel as prejudiced and bigoted against Catholicism as he himself is to "discuss " the matter.And I was not disappointed .He set the tone by equating allegations with proven facts and distorted the "discussion ab initio.Patsi Mc Garry,who has never displayed any balance on the matter gladly rowed in ,some approach for a self styled journalist,a wan from One in Four who is routinely wheeled out to belittle Catholicism ,opined that Catholic Clergy should not avail of the legal protections available to all other citizens and roll over on the making of an allegation,as if none of the allegations ever made were false and motivated by filthy lucre,(as a Lady judge pronounced recently about a black Catholic nun in a motor crash case) ( one wonders whether lady judges have become so anti Catholic at this stage that it is a waste of time going to Court at all if you are a member of a Catholic religious order ) and the coup de grace was a so called Theologian who described the Catholic Church as "toxic" if I heard right and suffers from as bad a case of penis envy as I have ever encountered.
As they say around here she is fierce well balanced ,with an equal bundle of chips on each shoulder.And she capped it all by belittling Padraic Pearse for daring to fight for the freedom of his country.What a yoke.
Yes the bush telegraph of Hell was in overdrive in assembling such a sulphuric assholery.
I went to the Christian Brothers for five years as a day pupil.I think more of the discarded nail clipping of the least of these men than the totality of the bigoted mouthpieces on display in that insult to decency.
Some contrast between both events.
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
One cure for Dogs that worry sheep
We went on a double mission last week to Sas. and Wales.We went to Frome in Somerset to bury Alice Loughlin ,my wife's last surviving aunt and did so.The Catholic ceremony is different in England than here.At least the one I was at is,in that a number of Hymns are sung during the Funeral Mass by the congregation.Nor is a decade of the Rosary recited at the graveside as is the norm here.Herself and myself said a Decade anyhow,
The second leg of the mission was to visit the grave of my grandparents in a place near Cardigan in Wales called Pont Hirwaun,which as far as I can make out is the Welsh for the Bridge over the river Hirwaun.
We found it and the place is so small that Dunderry is Tokyo by comparison.I don't know who looks after the graveyard but it is very well kept.
Welsh is very much the spoken language in West Wales as far as I could see and and the writing on the grave was as follows:-
Er Cof Annwyl
am
Ianto Stephens
Pont Hirwaun
Hunodd Rhag. 16.1976 .
Yn 76 oed.
Can eto cwrdd.
Herfyd Dewi ei fab
Bu fawr yn Iwerddyn
Ion .25.1982.Yn.52 oed.
Hefyo Maggie ei briod
Bu farw yn Salisbury
ym mlwyddyn 2000,
Yn 99 oed.
It refers to my grandfather Ianto (Evan),Father David (Dewi) and grandmother Maggie ,although I am sure that her Christened name was Sofia.
We placed a wreath on the grave and said a few prayers.
The thought has recently struck me that I have much to be humble about as both my parents were born into houses made of stone ,which are now extanct and where life was very hard and tough.
They were great people to survive at all and to be able to rear us was a miracle in itself.
This background probably explains my indignation at the exploitation of ordinary people by the uncaring and powerful.T'wasn't off the genetic road I licked it.
This area is primarily agricultural. and cattle manure and slurry were being spread all over the shop.
The roads are very narrow but well marked ,even the least significant ones ,but there are practically no soft margins to pull in if you break down.In that event you would have major tail backs,I imagine.
The Welsh language is given prominence on all road signs and official signage and the people are hugely proud of it and use it all the time.The antagonism of many native Irish to their own language is hard to understand in this context.Maybe it is the case that the genetic make up of the Irish whose ancestors " took the soup"and effectively renounced their own traditions to help the Crown forces subdue Ireland over many centuries lives on here more strongly than in Wales.I just don't understand the difference in attitude.
One thing that struck me is the fact that sheep throughout rural Wales and England graze right up to the very edge of the towns and villages without worry.You just would not see that here as the certainty of attacks by dogs would be inevitable.
The explanation is simple enough.In Wales in any event you either own a house dog or a working dog.A farmers dog is a working dog.Owners of house doge keep them at home and under control at all times,usually.
If a dog is caught worrying sheep ,without killing or biting them ,it may be that the farmer would tightly tie a piece of twine around his goolies and attach a number of empty tin cans to the twine and let him find his way home.A ring of sheep shit around his neck would let the owner know what it was all about.
Were the owner foolish enough to let the dog stray again and if the dog didn't learn his lesson then the dog would be shot without compunction and the owner would have to fully compensate the farmer.
It works.
More anon.
The second leg of the mission was to visit the grave of my grandparents in a place near Cardigan in Wales called Pont Hirwaun,which as far as I can make out is the Welsh for the Bridge over the river Hirwaun.
We found it and the place is so small that Dunderry is Tokyo by comparison.I don't know who looks after the graveyard but it is very well kept.
Welsh is very much the spoken language in West Wales as far as I could see and and the writing on the grave was as follows:-
Er Cof Annwyl
am
Ianto Stephens
Pont Hirwaun
Hunodd Rhag. 16.1976 .
Yn 76 oed.
Can eto cwrdd.
Herfyd Dewi ei fab
Bu fawr yn Iwerddyn
Ion .25.1982.Yn.52 oed.
Hefyo Maggie ei briod
Bu farw yn Salisbury
ym mlwyddyn 2000,
Yn 99 oed.
It refers to my grandfather Ianto (Evan),Father David (Dewi) and grandmother Maggie ,although I am sure that her Christened name was Sofia.
We placed a wreath on the grave and said a few prayers.
The thought has recently struck me that I have much to be humble about as both my parents were born into houses made of stone ,which are now extanct and where life was very hard and tough.
They were great people to survive at all and to be able to rear us was a miracle in itself.
This background probably explains my indignation at the exploitation of ordinary people by the uncaring and powerful.T'wasn't off the genetic road I licked it.
This area is primarily agricultural. and cattle manure and slurry were being spread all over the shop.
The roads are very narrow but well marked ,even the least significant ones ,but there are practically no soft margins to pull in if you break down.In that event you would have major tail backs,I imagine.
The Welsh language is given prominence on all road signs and official signage and the people are hugely proud of it and use it all the time.The antagonism of many native Irish to their own language is hard to understand in this context.Maybe it is the case that the genetic make up of the Irish whose ancestors " took the soup"and effectively renounced their own traditions to help the Crown forces subdue Ireland over many centuries lives on here more strongly than in Wales.I just don't understand the difference in attitude.
One thing that struck me is the fact that sheep throughout rural Wales and England graze right up to the very edge of the towns and villages without worry.You just would not see that here as the certainty of attacks by dogs would be inevitable.
The explanation is simple enough.In Wales in any event you either own a house dog or a working dog.A farmers dog is a working dog.Owners of house doge keep them at home and under control at all times,usually.
If a dog is caught worrying sheep ,without killing or biting them ,it may be that the farmer would tightly tie a piece of twine around his goolies and attach a number of empty tin cans to the twine and let him find his way home.A ring of sheep shit around his neck would let the owner know what it was all about.
Were the owner foolish enough to let the dog stray again and if the dog didn't learn his lesson then the dog would be shot without compunction and the owner would have to fully compensate the farmer.
It works.
More anon.
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