Grannymar

Happy Valentines Weekend.

I hope that if you have a significant other in your life that you are making the day special.  Not necessarily with the flashy roses and chocolates, but with little surprises.

How many of you know the real story of St Valentine?  He was very different to the heavily commercialised image for the day.  His remains are housed in the church of Our Lady of Mount Carmel on Whitefriar Street in Dublin. They have been there since the 19th century.  The Church is one of the largest in Dublin, and houses one of the finest organs in the country which was built by Kenneth Jones Organs Limited in 1983.

If you are interested in how thy got there I suggest you check this post by Woopsadaisy where she reminisces about a visit to the church with her granny (not me).

To prove I am not an old cynic I send you a hug!

Friend (F): Did you not go out tobogganing?

Me (M): LOL! I went ice skating instead. Snow is for young people, I was out for 30 mins today and an hour on 29th Dec.

(F): You won’t break any records with that!

(M): I don’t want to break anything.

(F): I Don’t blame you.

(M): I stood at the front door several times in the last week and my chest felt it was in a vice, it was not good I can tell you.

(F): Did you go out in the car today?

(M): A friend drove me. It is still very icy here.

(F): A toyboy????

(M): Not this time.

(F): Aaaw!

(M): My little neighbour has a bad chest infection and her water pipes are frozen. I took her down a large jug of water.

(F): Did you hear we’re facing water shortages here in Dublin?

(M): Nothing surprises me any more.

(F): Due to silly people running taps to stop pipes freezing plus breaks in water pipes!

(M): My sister has frozen water pipes – it is outside the house somewhere.

(F): Water pressure has been reduced around Dublin to conserve supply.

(M): Our water pressure is always reduced automatically in the winter months.

(F): We’ve lost internet connection here tonight.

(M): Remember how life was when we were young?

(F): I grew up in old house with no central heating only open fires.

(M): We have become so attached to the internet and central heating, how did we manage years ago? RTE 1 Television [only one station] - from 6pm to midnight or a radio the size of a wardrobe.  No mobile phones or computers, sitting round an open fire with our fronts scorched and our backs frozen! Shins covered in abc’s.  If you went out to get more coal, someone stole your warm seat!

(F): I remember it well. We had stone hot jars too for bedtime, jaysus, it makes me feel ancient! We had to put them in beds to stop them (beds) getting damp.

(M): Yeah, those days were awful. Frost on the inside of the windows, you got dressed to get into bed and then undressed and dressed again under the bedclothes in the morning! Oh! I remember not wanting to sit on the loo seat because it was so cold!

(F): ROFLOL!

(M): Stop laughing, it was no joke.

(F): You are telling me!  I still perch on one cheek sometimes ‘cos of the cold!

(M): I became a dab hand at sitting on my knickers.

(F): I dare you put that in a blog post.

(M): I will too! In the morning.

The moral of the story is never dare me to do something!

Wise Web Woman should be packing her case in readiness for her forthcoming trip to Ireland.  She arrives in on 30th May and next day she will be up bright and early to take part in the Flora Ladies Mini Marathon in Dublin City.  Oh for the energy!   So, if you are going along to watch the Girls strut their stuff you need two placards, one with ‘Wise Web Woman on it and the other for Patricia Anglican!

Meanwhile procrastinating instead of packing, WWW is gazing at the award she received from Gossamer Woman.

Now I like the sound of that…. reaching out and building bridges!

In the true spirit of blogging she passed the baton on and shared some bloggy goodness to people who in her own words:-

I admire and who reach out across boundaries with their sparkling honesty and truth:

Her list of nominees are:

• Tessa at Nuts and Mutton.
  Twilight at Twilight Starsong.
  Verna at Out of the Cube.
  Nick at Nickhereandnow.
  Grannymar at Grannymar.
  and
  Conor at Conorjte.

I think she made a mistake…. ’cause my name appears on that list among some wonderful people whose blogs I enjoy.  Thank you Wise Web Woman for the honour.

Sitting with thinking cap in place I scroll through my list of virtual friends to choose a half dozen deserving of this accolade…. It is so difficult as so many of you reach out and build bridges…

My choice this time are:-

Damien Mulley the father figure of blogging in Ireland, who shares time, information and link luv on a daily basis.  He is the brains behind the Irish Blog Awards and the Irish Web Awards, events that don’t just happen over night, but take months of planning and preparation to bring so many together for a fun filled evening in recognition of their peers.

Darragh Doyle alright so I am biased!  Darragh had the ‘Obama’ spirit long before we heard of Obama.  I sometimes wonder if he was born saying “Yes we can!  Yes I will!”  There are no doors in Darragh’s lexicon, if he wants to meet someone he walks right up there and says hello.  He meets people.  He introduces people and most of all he enjoys sharing people with all of us through his blog.

Lily’s Blog makes a refreshing read on a wide variety of topics and it is difficult to believe it only arrived on the scene in the last twelve months.  Lily, a busy wife & mother to the Collison Clan was the last member of the family to join the blogging world.  The boys keep her on her toes baking, blogging, twittering and following their escapades across the globe.

From the Magpie’s nest proves that nagging works. :roll:  Magpie11 has been a regular visitor here for a long time now, and from his observations and comments I felt he had what it took to feed a blog of his own.  Thankfully for once I was listened to and proved correct.  I particularly enjoy his cookery hints they are always tasty and tempting.

Stretching my long arms wide I will pick one blog from and easterly direction and one from the west to comple my half dozen.

Ramana’s Musings reach us all the way from Pune in India.  Ramana is an avid reader of everything from heavy tomes to the frivilous fripperance of Grannymar.  His blogroll stretches across the globe and he acknowledges every comment that he receives.  He has brought many visitors here to join in the fun and I have discovered many new blogs.

Leveraged Intelligence with Conrad (who hails from Kansas and now lives in California) at the helm is a fun place to play.  He introduces the subject and we are all invited to join the conversation, at times the visitors take over and Conrad can hardly get a look in.

Now it is your turn… go reach out and build six bridges!

Yesterday I had an invitation to afternoon tea.  My hostess was a tall elegant young lady that I have known since the day and hour she was born. Well not exactly the day and hour but near enough and I am not talking about Elly.  Jen was an early visitor to meet her new cousin Elly and the bond has grown with the years.

Jen introducted little Miss Elly to the wonders of Dublin without her parents.  They had regular visits to the cinema and to McDonalds long before Uncle Ronald discovered Belfast!  The adventure ended with the journey home on the upper level of a double decker bus back to Nana’s house.

There was one occasion when arrangements were being made over the telephone, the newspaper cinema listings checked and there seemed only one film that Jen wished to sit through again ( she was a saint in disguise returning to watch films just to suit her cousin!).  So on this occasion the one film had a question mark over it.  Mammy would have to give permission so Jen asked to speak to me.

The film was the Commitments Would I allow my under-age daughter go to see this film?  Jen had seen it before and had no objection to going again.  It contained strong language… very strong language, but nothing worse than you would hear on a Dublin bus!  I gave my consent.  We finished our conversation and I went to tell Elly.

Two minutes later the phone rang again.  It was Jen’s dad.  No, he was not objecting to my decision but he would enjoy seeing the film again and wondered if I would like to go along with them.  He was not sure whether Jack would like the film or understand the very strong Dublin accents, but I said I would ask him.

The cinema was quite close to Nana’s so my brother said he would collect us.  There were six in the party by the time we set off, my brother, his wife, the two young ladies and Jack and I.  I sat beside Jack in order to explain or translate for him the local lingo.  He was the first to laugh and the tears ran down his face for most of the film.  He had no trouble understanding any of it.

So after a couple of hours f-ducking and blinding I thought I had never left Dublin

We returned to the car and all piled in for the journey home to Nana’s house.  I had to do something, so I said:

F-ducking Elly, before your f-ducking uncle P puts the f-ducking key in the f-ducking ignition to f-ducking drive the f-ducking car out of the f-ducking car park to f-ducking drive us back to your f-ducking Nana’s, I just want to f-ducking say that I f-ducking never f-ducking want to f-ducking hear f-ducking you f-ducking using this f-ducking language ever f-ducking again!

Nancy asked the other day if I would post something about Nelson’s Pillar.

www.joyceimages.com/chapter/7/

Nelson’s Pillar was the most prominent monument standing near the General Post Office (GPO) since 1808 in the centre of O’Connell Street, formerly known as Sackville Street, Dublin’s main thoroughfare. This was the original Nelson’s column predating the one in London by almost 30 years. It was a 36.8m (121 ft) tall column with a 3.9m (13 ft) tall statue in Portland Stone at the top.

Designed in 1808 by the English architect William Wilkins (1778-1839), the pillar was topped by Thomas Kirk’s (1781-1845) statue of Admiral Nelson. At the time it was the tallest Doric column in the world. It contained a viewing gallery at the top, and adults paid 6d (children under 12 were half-price) to climb the 168 spiral steps to a platform which gave a bird’s-eye view of the city. The diameter of the column was 13 ft at the bottom and 10 ft at the top.

All the outer and visible parts of the Pillar were of granite, from the quarry of Golden Hill, Kilbride, Co. Wicklow. The interior was of black limestone. Originally the entrance was underground but this was moved to above ground in 1896.

The pillar became a common meeting place for those new to the City and remained so right up to the time of destruction. I wonder how many romances began with a first date starting at ‘The Pillar’.

www.teachnet.ie/dhorgan/1950-60.html

By day there was a lady standing near the entrance selling fresh flowers from a baby’s pram. She was there for years. Alongside her was a mobile X-Ray van with a loudspeaker unit calling on passers-by to ‘Come and have a free chest X-ray’, between these messages they played music! One record played over and over ALL day long – Greensleeves! I know because I worked during my school holidays for several years, at an Opticians office and the loud hailer blared right in our a first floor window!

The Pillar was an unpopular symbol of British imperialism. It was blown up by the IRA at 02:00 on 8^th March 1966 as their way of commemorating the Easter Rising. No one was hurt by the explosion. The closest bystander was 19-year-old taxi driver, whose taxi was destroyed.

www.ukonline.co.uk/communitysupport/nelpil2.jpg

I remember the day, it was my brother’s birthday and we were both late for work because the centre of Dublin was closed to motor traffic and we had to walk most of the way to work. The IRA action only demolished the top of the pillar, causing damage to two windows in the area. Two days after the original damage, engineers from the Irish Army blew up the remainder of the pillar after judging it to be unsafe to restore. This planned demolition caused more destruction on O’Connell Street than the original blast, breaking many windows.

No action was ever taken by the police against the bombers.

Now standing on the site of the Pillar is a 120-metre tall stainless steel needle designed by Ian Ritchie and built 2003-4. Officially called The Spire, like its predecessor, it has attracted much controversy, and alternative names.

Good morning from a sunny Dublin.  I am actually weraring a summer top because it is so warm.  Summer has arrived in ernest.

So who wants to know how I am

To be truthful I am feeling rather confused…

I am a Mammy and I have a daughter.  I got that right didn’t I?  Somehow the roles have changed when I wasn’t thinking or looking or listening.  It is all very confusing and upsetting really and for a ‘lady’ of my mature years, not good at all.

Yesterday when I arrived I was dispatched to the shops for a message and then when I got back I had to sit still and be QUIET because she was working.  Needless to say I kept my mouth shut tight but danced up and down like unelegant elephant just to get my own back.

Today I thought that peace would reign since she was going into the office.  Alas, as I was sitting enjoying the lovely coffee that George made for me (not a bad lad that fella!) when along comes little miss with a pen and paper.  Yes I did say PEN & PAPER!  When that happens you know things are serious.  ”I taught that girl well!” I said to myself…. make a list of all that you need to do and that way you won’t forget them.

It was when she started talking and writing like an oldfashioned school ma’am that I began to get worried.

The paper was for a list of chores; to be done…..   BY ME!

You should see the list it is as long as your arm.  One item has 2pm after it!  Talk about time and motion.  At this rate I’ll have no energy for Toyboys tomorrow!

I would eat the list but for the fact I don’t like the taste of paper.  I can’t throw it up on top of a wardrobe ’cause they all go to the ceiling.  There is no fireplace to burn it, so I need your help!

How can I get rid of the list and what should I do to get my own back?

I was listening talking to Elly the other day making arrangements for my next visit. We do this on a regular basis, talk that is. ‘Visit’ arrangements are something else altogether. You see, in my head I want to go here and do this that and the other, while my body says NO WAY!

All my social arrangements both at home and away are prefixed with ‘IF’. I continually have to remind my head that the body is not thirty years of age anymore. Alas, the body rules. There are mornings when the thoughts of how I will feel after a shower, are what gets me out of the bed! There are some days when that is not enough either. Some days I start off well and suddenly I am drained of energy. The best way to describe it is a feeling that someone has pulled the stopper and the energy drains away like water in a sink. My colour goes with it and I need to SIT DOWN right there and then. Elly & George are used to this happening and quietly deal with me. I knew there would be a bonus of having a strong, solid and good looking Son-in-Law to lean on!

I have to keep going, so I make plans with an ‘if’. “I would love to come…if.” “Certainly I will go…if.” You get the picture.

Now I want to travel down for the Irish Blog Awards to rub flesh with my virtual friends and meet more new ones. It is an easy one for me to attend because it is held in a nice room with comfortable seating and space to move around. The seats are not pre-booked so if I need to cancel it is not a problem. If I don’t turn up somebody else will use the seat.

I have not put my name on any list to attend the meet-ups before or after the big night, because I hate to say I will go somewhere that requires having space booked for me, and cause expense only to discover at the last moment that my health won’t let me attend.

So Sabrina, Red Mum and Deborah please excuse me and I hope all the events are a wonderful success.

Sabrina Dent and Ina extended an invitation to all of Ireland’s women bloggers to join them for tea and cakes (or martinis and olives, if you prefer) for a few hours before the Irish Blog Awards.on 1^st March.

I was ready to scream, and throw something heavy at my screen the other day when I read they were suggesting a pre Awards meet-up for Ladies Only.

Ok, ok! I hear you grumble “There goes that old Grannymar again! She has only one interest and we all know what that is! Toyboys, toyboys and more toyboys!

Actually the word bursting from my lips at the time was ‘Clique’ I saw the idea as a break away from the mood and idea of the day. Next up RedMum is organising a meetup of photobloggers and photographers. I suppose in an hour or two it will be the Pints for the Boys meetup.

Bloggers come in all shapes and sizes, some fresh and young with the urgency of snowdrops about to push through the ground, while there are others like me weather beaten and creaking like the branches of an old tree bending with the weight of a hundred years. This Bertie Bassett Mix is what the blogosphere is all about. What is so scary about it? We chat and banter with each other every day. There are no strangers there, only friends we have not met yet.

I decided to sit on my hands for a day or two and cool down. I lurked as they say and read the comments on the different blogs. Bock the Robber, never shy, asked the question for me. He wrote:

This blog awards thing is coming up soon and I’m looking forward to meeting a lot of people face to face that I’ve only corresponded with electronically.

Now, suppose I announced that I was organising a meet-up but it was only for men. Suppose I said that women were banned from it, what do you think would happen?

Would people call me a stupid, sexist fucker? Would a whole heap of shite pour down on my head from every woman in Ireland for being an uptight, narrow-minded, anti-woman bigot?

Probably.

And they’d be right.

The girls were all for the meetup and King Damien gave it his blessing. So as the song goes ‘I think I’ll have to think it out again!’

I go places alone and have no difficulty walking into a room full of strangers. Well, it is either that or live the life of a hermit! So back to the thinking…

• The girls seem to think it is a good idea; some of the names are familiar to me. But who is that Elly she seems to get her nose in everywhere!
• The photobloggers might end up clicking their way through the day as it moves to the Big Event and produce a digital flavour for all to enjoy.
• This only leaves the boys with the whole afternoon to fix their hair and enjoy a pint in peace.

Maybe with the help of hindsight it is not a bad idea after all. If I make it to Dublin and since my chauffeur Elly is already booked in I might come along.

Now where did I put that feather Boa?

Red Mum wrote about the difficulty of carrying large cumbersome purchases around busy shopping areas by hand. Nowadays shopping and goods are supposed to go magically into standard sized plastic bags. It is surprising how often that the larger the bag the weaker the handle.

Way back when Ya-di-da-di-da…

Well it was way back when I was a slip of a thing and growing up in Dublin. Everything you bought from 5 rolls of wallpaper, a pair of blankets, or a pair of shoes, to a fur coat (no I didn’t, but I did refuse a mink coat once!), they were always wrapped in strong brown paper and tied with string. Where do you think we old folk learned to wrap a neat parcel?

When we got home the parcel was unwrapped, the string rolled up and saved and the paper folded, for reuse to back school books* or to make a dress pattern. The string was always useful, for tying other parcels or with a weight attached it made a useful plumb line.

So back to tying the parcels…

When they were carefully wrapped in paper, the string was tied securely around the parcel lengthwise with a strong knot positioned about 1/3 of the way along the long side. The string was then taken over the top and back of the parcel and looped around the string at the back then on down under the parcel and back to the knot at the front. Leave no slack and knot it again around a T bar this time. Bring the line of string along the first string about another 1/3 of the way and loop and tie it. Again bring the string over the top and back of the parcel as before and loop it again, taking it on down and round to the front once more. Secure at the knot above and then take it back to the first knot, and secure with a final knot and trim end. You will note a double string in the middle and this can be used as a strong handle.

Now for the Grannymar special. I have my uses!!!!

You have heard me talk of my days living in Germany way back in the early 70’s. During my first week there I bought a duvet and it came in a cardboard box. This box was wrapped in brown paper and tied as I described above. The sales assistant was a pleasure to watch as he swiftly completed his task. Setting the parcel on the counter, keeping one hand on it he bent down and from some secret compartment he produced a little wooden handle which he attached. It was wonderful! I had no numb fingers from loss of blood supply, and my arms were not aching from trying to hold an awkward package up at elbow level.

I still have that wooden handle 36 years later and it has well served its time. The wood is worn at the edges and the wire replaced. I used part of a metal coat hanger for this purpose and my metal turning skills would never win prizes but it works! I have made several handles since using bamboo and the coat hanger wire.

If you attempt to make some from bamboo choose a smooth piece as the ridge marks hurt the hands when carrying a heavy load. Also remember to file the cut edges of the wire or it might catch and tear the skin or fabrics of clothing while on the move.

Now I will expect to see your handiwork very soon.

* When we were at school all school text and copy books had to be covered in brown paper to keep them clean. We then had to write our names and the title of the book on the new cover.

Do you really need TLC when you have a senior moment?