Grannymar

When you look through a window, what do you see?

I suppose it depends whether you are looking out or looking in.  I have on occasion looked out while looking in.  This happens in my back garden when the sun is shining.  Looking towards the glass I see a reflection of the garden, no wonder the birds are forever stunning themselves and landing in a heap on the ground.

Sometimes looking out through a window, the view or some aspect of it, turns my thoughts inward.

This happened to me on Saturday while at the Waterfront Hall.  We stopped for a quick coffee in one of the bars and as I moved to sit by the window my eye was drawn to a sculpture on the other side of the glass.

A gentleman sitting on a barrel.  By his side and at his feet were the tools of his trade.  He was a Cooper.

We did not have the opportunity to go out onto the roof level for a closer look at the sculpture or find out who the Sculptor was.  To be honest I never asked I will go back and ask some day.  I became engrossed with the little man on the barrel.  I was thinking of ‘Red Dick’ a man I never met. By the time I awoke from my reverie it was time to move on to the next level.

( () )–( () )–( () )

Red Dick was my maternal grandfather and he was a Cooper by trade with one of the Distillers in Dublin in days gone by.  Alas, he died before I was born.  The ‘Red’ in his name came from the colour of his hair, it was much the same as Tommy’s!  In fact he came from Murroe, Co Limerick, a place mentioned by Tommy the other day.  I have talked about that branch of the family in a Podcast back in August 2007.  Our records go back to my 3rd Great Grandfather (1763-1836) and a branch of the family is still in residence.  In the Great Potato Famine c.1854 the old Homestead was a soup kitchen with funds provided by American Quakers.

UPDATE: Thanks to Alice we now know that The Barrel Man was the inspiration and work of Artist & Sculptor Ross Wilson Visit his website for information about other pieces in and around Belfast.

On Tuesday I was recalling the work of Ada Lovelace a pioneer in the world of Technology.  Today I recall other ladies who in days gone by were forging ahead to break other boundaries.

Last night I was reading about the Playing Rules for the game of Camogie.  As far as I could see they were all about the referee, umpires and the uniform.  There was little or no mention of the players.  It was a far cry from the original game that took place in 1904. I wrote a post back in March 2007 about that first game here.

Camogie may come under the banner of the GAA - the Gaelic Athletic Association, but it is still listed under ‘Other Activities’ on their website.  Mind you when the game is in full flow it is difficult to know whether it is a game of Men’s hurling or a game of Camogie.  The uniforms are similar and the players all wear headgear nowadays.

Modern day uniform

Compare it with the original

On Sunday 17 July 1904 at the Showgrounds at An Umaimh

In the picture above, the player 1st left in the front row in my Maternal grandmother and she seems to have a bloody nose.  Tut! Tut! Rough game.

Granny aged 20

I’m leaving on a jet plane by car this morning to head back home.  It is not easy leaving all these toyboys behind.  Don’t whisper a word to Elly … I’m meeting another one on my way for a coffee and a chat.  If I never appear again, my last will & testament is behind the clock!

I will be glad to get home, if only to rest my arms.  They ache like hell.  It happens every trip.  Now I wonder if it has anything to do with hugging Toyboys?

All these journeys start with hugs.  Last night I bade farewell and hugged my son-in-law, this morning I was hugged so many times by Elly that I began to get worried… was I going to come back again?

I began to think of all the farewells from my mother as we approached the front door on our way to school.  We walked to the door, two or three of us leaving at the same time.  ”Have you got your bus fare and your lunch?” was a usual question.  Then followed the ritual of her dipping her finger in the tiny Holy Water font beside the door and blessing each one of us with the sign of the cross.

In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost, take you there and bring you home safe!

What rituals did you have before leaving home?

I keep saying it – Where would we be without our commenter’s?

A ‘Strange but True’ themed day was suggested by Steph, so get your thinking caps on while you read this and then share your story.

One bright September morning when I was aged four, mammy dressed me up and put a large bow on my hair. We were taking my older brother to school. At the time I didn’t realise that she wanted to enrol me for the following September. The school was run by an order of nuns and Sister Patrick the Principal, announced to my mother that she would take then and there that day! I had no time to prepare and Mammy left in shock without (at that time) her only daughter!

My teacher for the first couple of years was called Miss Kierce. Naturally when I came home I talked non stop about her. Daddy said to me that in his part of the country (Co Clare) she would be called Kearse and that I was to tell her. I think it was the first thing I said to her the next day. The banter went backward and forward through me, and we discovered that she was from Ennis in Co Clare, not many miles from Kildysart where my father was born.

Miss Kierce asked if daddy ever went down to Clare and precocious little me said “Of course he did, he went to see Granny Kildysart!” So the message came home: “Daddy Miss Kierce says; next time you are going to Kildysart will you drop her off in Ennis!”

Weeks passed and eventually daddy was arranging to go to Clare, so I again brought messages back and forth. Times and dates were sorted and on the day teacher came home from school with me and she and daddy set off on the journey. Driving from Dublin to Ennis at the mouth of the Shannon in the days before motorways, gave plenty of time for questions to be asked and answers given. Daddy’s first question to all young women was usually “Did I know your mother?” Daddy did not know her mother but discovered that he knew her Godfather!

Miss Kierce’s Godfather was daddy’s Uncle Jim! The same Uncle Jim who came to our house for lunch every Tuesday and stayed all day!

Grand Uncle Jim

When I married Jack back in 1977, I wanted a simple wedding with no fuss. My friends were all well married and at 30 I was considered a very late bride (thankfully that silly talk has vanished)! I settled on a two piece outfit with crochet top and linen skirt in Ecru. It was right for me with my deep auburn hair. Jack as I have said before was older and walked with a slight limp due to injuries he sustained in Burma during WW11. Jack always referred to the injured leg as ‘the wooden leg’! He was a widower when I met him.

Walking up the aisle with Daddy who was ill.

Now we are married!

Several years later my brother was researching our family history. On a visit to Co Clare he spent several hours looking at the archives of the Clare Champion, a local weekly newspaper. He sent me a copy of a cutting. It was a description of a wedding. The date was 30 Jan 1900 and the Groom a widower, was marrying a woman much younger than he was. She had auburn hair. The description of the bride’s outfit told us it was the same colour as mine. The Groom did have a wooden leg. How do I know? The bridal couple were my paternal grandparents. The bride was Granny Kildysart!

Now you must have a strange but true story to share with us. I’m off to buy a horse, I’ll talk to you much later!

This is the story of a bag just like this. The one I talk about was black in colour.

This is a Halloween story with a difference and not a nut in sight!

I was sorting through some old papers at the weekend and came across a couple of copies from the census forms from 1901 and 1911 in Ireland. They were so simple compared with the 24 page forms of the present day. Alas they are far from what is considered politically correct in this day and age.

The 1901 Form had one page with 11 columns to be completed.

RETURN of the MEMBERS of this FAMILY and their VISITORS, BOARDERS, SERVANTS, ETC., who slept or abode in this House on the night of Sunday, the 31^st of March 1901.

Columns 1 Name & Surname

The Name of the Head of the Family should be written first; then the names of his Wife, Children, and other Relatives; then those of Visitors, Boarders, Servants, Etc.,

Column 2 - Relation to Head of Family.

State whether ‘Head of Family,’ or ‘Wife,’ ‘Son,’ ‘Daughter,’ or other Relative; ‘Visitor,’ ‘Boarder,’ ‘Servant,’ Etc.

Column 3 – Religious Profession.

State here the particular Religion, or Religious Denomination, to which each person belongs. [Members of Protestant Denominations are requested not to describe themselves by the vague term “Protestant,” but to enter the name of the Particular Church, Denomination, or Body to which they belong.]

Column 4 – Education.

State here whether he or she can “Read and Write,” can “Read” only, or “Cannot Read.”

Column 5 – Age

This is divided into two columns. A) Age last Birthday & b) Months for Infants under one year.

Column 6 – Sex

Column 7 – Rank, Profession or Occupation.

State the particular Rank, Profession, Trade, or other Employment of each person. Children or young persons attending School, or receiving regular instruction at home, should be returned as Scholars.

- Now ladies take a deep breath as we look at this one.

In the 1911 Census the following note is added to this column:

[No entry should be made in the case of wives, daughters, or other female relatives solely engaged in domestic duties at home.]

Column 8 – Marriage

Whether ‘Married,’ ‘Widower,’ ‘Widow,’ or ‘Not Married.’ The latter becomes ‘Single,’ in the 1911 version.

Column 9 – Where Born

If in Ireland state in what County or City; if elsewhere, state the name of the Country.

Column 10 – Irish Language.

Write the word ‘Irish’ in the column opposite the name of each person who speaks Irish only, and the words ‘Irish & English’ opposite the names of those who speak both languages. In other cases no entry should be made in this column.

Column 11 – This abhors me!

If Deaf and Dumb;

Dumb only;

Blind;

Imbecile or Idiot;

Or Lunatic

Write the respective infirmities opposite the name of the afflicted person.

I notice in this column in the 1911 Census, entered next my grandfather’s name is: Right leg amputated

*We must tell our own stories, and we must tell the stories of others. If you don’t tell your own story, who will? Of course you know I advocate writing your story, but if you can’t write it, or won’t, then for sure tell it. Tell it often, so people don’t forget. It could matter.* this is the final line of a blog post by Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal.

The time to start telling the story is NOW! By the time most of us think of looking back to discover our history, it is too late. The people who have the information are gone. Gravestones and Registers only give dry facts. People bring those facts to life

My oldest brother was at the graveside of a beloved paternal uncle, when he suddenly realised it was too late to ask questions, and he had not paid enough attention to all the stories my uncle had told over the years. All those stories and facts were gone never to be retold. My brother then set himself a task of tracing and noting his family history and by passing on this information to me it opened a whole new outlet and hobby.

Gingerpixel used a wonderful photograph of work worn hands to tell the story of her Grandfather, when she was Guest Phototrapher/Blogger for Mr Irish Blogosphere himself Damien Mulley.

If you are fortunate enough to have parents and grandparents alive, spend some time with them and ask them to write down their memories. If they are not keen you interview them and write it or make a Podcast of them telling the story. The first stage is the most difficult, but once they make a start the memories come back and the stories start to flow.

Your children and Grandchildren will be pleased. Remember their lives will be as different to yours as mine is in relation to my grandparents.

Grannymar’s 3rd Great Grandfather 1763 - 1836

This image is circa 1800 The original is still in the old Homestead.