Grannymar

I am always amazed how blog posts awaken a memory.

Lottie’s post about being mugged brought back two.

The first happened while I was on holiday in England at the age of twelve. Always underweight and small for my age I would have easily passed as a ten year old. Until now I had forgotten or buried the episode deep down in order not to remember.

While walking along a quiet country road two boys pushed me to the ground with a bicycle. They held me on the ground and although I struggled, they managed to remove my panties.

I won’t go into details but as I think about it today with a shiver, I suppose they were only checking out and testing what they had learned or talked about behind the bike shed at school. Those were days long before sex education was introduced into the school curriculum. It was a terrible experience and one I would not wish happen any girl, young or old. I was in tears when I reached my Aunts house and she called the police. There were endless interviews and questions, in a way I was glad the boys were never found because if they were I would have had to go through it all again in court. After that holiday the topic was never raised. My parents never spoke about it and to this day I have no idea if my aunt ever told them.

The second was when I lived in Germany in the early 1970’s. My apartment had a communal front entrance with a buzzer system of entry. The Penthouse suite contained an apartment and offices for the owner. A gentleman I met through friends became infatuated without reason. Our paths crossed several times at social gatherings, I was courteous but gave no encouragement. Somehow he discovered where I lived and he began to stalk me. One evening the internal doorbell to my apartment rang. Thankfully it had a peephole viewer and when I looked through it I saw it was my ‘stalker’ I didn’t open the door. It was before we had mobile phones and I did not have a land-line phone installed at the time.

Needless to say sleep evaded me that night and indeed for several weeks. He was still sitting there in the carpeted hallway outside my door all warm and cosy when I went to bed. I have no idea how long he stayed as I resisted the urge to get out of my bed to check. Thankfully in the morning he was gone. I knew the time my neighbours left for work, so I made sure I was walking down the hall at the same time. Several nights later the same thing happened. I followed the same procedure and when I returned from work that evening I made it my business to speak to the caretaker. He said he would have the owners send a note to all residents reminding them not to let anyone in as they opened the front door. All visitors were supposed to buzz the person they had come to visit and only gain access on invitation.

Originally I had gone to see about a ground floor apartment and was surprised that the owners would not let me rent it. They explained that they would not rent a ground floor apartment to a lady living on her own and showed me around an empty one on the first floor which I agreed to take. Many times later I was to feel thankful for that decision. It was a lovely compact home for me in a nice area and I walked through the park to work each day. I did not want to move and nobody was going to push me out. After the third visit I reported my uninvited guest, who had a wife, and I then discovered a history of this kind of behaviour. The last I heard he was admitted as a patient to the Psychiatric Ward of the hospital where I worked.

Thankfully that was the only down point of my time in Germany and there were so many happy times to make up for it. Like the first incident above I buried it deep and moved on.

Now that apartment living is so prevalent in Ireland, just stop for a moment and think before you hold open a door for a stranger. If they are a genuine visitor they will understand why you ask them to press the buzzer!

This topic has buzzed about inside my head like a nagging tooth for several months now. Lying in bed the other night during a power cut I listened to the radio through tiny earphones attached to my mobile phone. It was the jolt needed to pull it together.

My mobile is a Nokia 6610i, still giving faithful service after three years. It measures 10.5 x 4.5 x 2cms. I tucked it under my pillow to stop it slipping down the back of my bed, Tissues, reading glasses - the spare ones for reading in bed, my phone and medication have at times found their way through that tiny space. The bed is heavy and pulling it out is an activity endured only when necessary.

It is a far cry from the radio we listened to when I was growing up many years ago. That radio was a piece of furniture, an unmoveable feast! The first time I actually realised this was at secondary school, one of my class mates was talking about how she lost the radio. She searched the house for it before finding it under the bed! Our radio was larger and heavier than a family sized Microwave. It lived on top of Daddy’s desk in the alcove beside the fire. Daddy’s chair was always within arms reach of it. No way could you lose it or fit it under a bed!

The radio is still about although it has not worked for years. Brother No.2 took it when Daddy died with the hope of finding parts and getting it going once more. Unable to find the items required and not wanting to part with this token of our /his past, it sat in his mini museum alongside his other treasures of an earlier life. Slowly over the years it has moved along the shelf until finally it was relegated to a high shelf in the utility room where it sits today looking forlorn and unloved.

This radio arrived all bright and shining to our home as a wedding present for my mum and dad in 1941. There was a choice of wavelengths; long, medium and short. My earliest memories are of Radio Eireann and BBC Home Service. Daddy had the habit of tuning in to BBC Home Service for the 7am Morning News programme and switching over to Radio Eireann for the 8am news. Mammy loved to listen to the afternoon play on BBC as she waded through a mountain of ironing, with the help of a bar of Cleeves Toffee. On Christmas Eve we followed Santa’s preparations with the elves checking the gifts for all the children before leaving the North Pole. Somehow it never registered that all the names called out were Irish or had an Irish touch to them!

Lunchtime listening in our school years brought regular episodes of the Kennedy’s of Castleross and a very staid version of Hospital’s Requests on a Wednesday. The latter seemed to play only classical music, Irish diddlie di, or hymns. John McCormack’s recordings were regularly requested The messages of greeting for patients were delivered in very sombre or grave tones, enough to add pain rather than bring comfort. Then a young Bank Clerk from Limerick called Terry Wogan arrived like a tornado blowing fresh air across the airwaves. He spoke irreverently of Matrons, bedpans and pills and the ludicrous reality of lunch at 11am. The programme changed Tempo and we were introduced to the music of the day. I am sure it had a very positive effect on patients who in those days had longer spells in hospital. A simple appendix operation meant a week in bed followed by a week up and about on the ward. That is how it still was in 1966 when my appendix was removed.

Most of that happened before TV began in Ireland. We listened to the radio and made our own pictures inside our heads.

Paddy Crosbie was Question Master of The School around the Corner, where each week, two teams from different Primary schools battled it out to show their knowledge. The programme always finished with the ‘Hard Word’, when Paddy asked each member to write down the meaning of a multi-syllable word. The answers were then read out to the listeners and everyone shared the prize of a box of sweets.

Question Time, for the adults was watched over by our other dad patent leather hairdo Joe Linnane. My mother dated him before she met my dad. We never actually met him, but were glad she chose dad. It didn’t stop us teasing her every time we heard him or saw him in later years on Radio Telifis Eireann.

We had a weekly series of the Foley Family, an early attempt at radio soap. There was Cheili House, a programme of traditional Irish music, and Take the Floor with Dingo – did he have another name? Dingo was the compère; he introduced the musicians and dancers and was caller for the dance steps just like at a barn dance. As a child I thought it was silly having dancing on the radio as you couldn’t see the steps, mind you I feel the same about cooking on the radio today. Joe Lynch, from Cork was another entertainer, who grew-up within Radio Eireann as an actor, singer and comedian, but really came into his own with his Living with Lynch.

I remember a detective series where the story built over several weeks. One week there was a car chase through the streets of Dublin, ending with the criminal crashing into a railing near the Four Courts. We were on the edges of our seats and chewing our fingernails with the tension and excitement. It was all the more believable when the following day; Daddy piled us into the car and took us to see the crash site. There was the car stuck in the railings! Daddy had heard of a crash on the news but let on to us that it was the car from the programme. Somehow I don’t think that would pass the children of today.

My older brothers graduated to Radio Caroline and Radio Luxembourg and we became interested in the Top Twenty and all the hits of the day. If mammy and daddy were out we played about with the dials and wavelengths, sometimes we managed to eavesdrop on ship to shore telephone calls. Usually it was one side of a conversation, but if we managed to get both sides we felt we were very clever.

Now we have digital this and digital that, instant satellite connections across the globe. We hear and see the news as it happens and at times before it happens. Journalists today are in such a hurry to be the first with the news that they they tell us what they think will unfold. Does the fast pace make the news any better or make us happier?

What ever happened to the words of good old W. H. Davies

WHAT is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare?—

No time to stand beneath the boughs,
And stare as long as sheep and cows:

No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass:

No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night:

No time to turn at Beauty’s glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance:

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began?

A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

Yesterday I tried to answer a few questions. With one of my answers I gave away a snippet from my past. Mention was made of the good old days of Radio Luxembourg. The DJ who joined us for Christmas 1971 in Wiesbaden was Bob Stewart. The stories he told certainly made us laugh and the time passed in a flash. Alas, he had to leave us early on Boxing Day to drive back and open up the Station at 6pm. A tuck box was filled with tasty goodies and there was a special request for some of my Christmas pudding. (I plan to include it for a Food Monday in the autumn.)

In the picture above is Bob Stewart on the left with Mark Wesley and Peter Powell. I think it is from around 1977. The one below of Bob is how I like to remember him.

So what were we listening to all those years ago?

Ernie the Fastest Milkman in the West, Sung by Benny Hill was the No.1 for several weeksaround that Christmas.

Top Twenty August 1 1965, the year I left school.

1. Help! Beatles (Parlophone)

2. You’ve got your troubles Fortunes (Decca)

3. We gotta get out of this place Animals (Columbia)

4. Mr. Tambourine man Byrds (CBS)

5. Catches if you can Dave Clark Five (Columbia)

6. Tossing and turning Ivy League (Piccadilly)

7. There but for fortune Joan Baez (Fontana)

8. Heart full of soul Yardbirds (Columbia)

9. With these hands Tom Jones (Decca)

10. Wooly Bully Sam the Sham (MGM)

11. In the middle of nowhere Dusty Springfield (Philips)

12. Summer nights Marian Faithfull (Decca)

13. Everyone’s gone to the moon Jonathan King (Decca)

14. He’s got no love Searchers (Decca)

16. Zorba’s dance Marcello Minerbi (Durium)

17. A walk in the black forest Horst Jankowski (Mercury)

18. Too many rivers Brenda Lee (Brunswick)

19. Say you’re my girl Roy Orbison (London)

20. I’m alive Hollies (Parlophone)

Weekend Chart New Musical Express (Saturday, July 31, 1965).

And almost a year later:

Top Twenty from Sunday June 26 1966.

1. Paperback Writer Beatles (Parlophone)

2. Strangers In The Night Frank Sinatra (Reprise)

3. Monday, Monday Mama’s and Papa’s (RCA)

4. Sunny Afternoon Kinks (Pye)

5. Don’t Answer Me Cilla Black (Parlophone)

6. River Deep-Mountain High Ike and Tina Turner (London)

7. Nobody Needs Your Love Gene Pitney (Statesite)

8. When A Man Loves A Woman Percy Sledge (Atlantic)

9. Promises Ken Dodd (Columbia)

10. Sorrow Merseys (Fontana)

11. Paint It Black Rolling Stones (Decca)

12. Don’t Bring Me Down Animals (Decca)

13. Over Under Sideways Down Yardbirds (Columbia)

14. Hideaway Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky Mick and Tich (Fontana)

15. Wild Thing Troggs (Fontana)

16. Sloop John B Beach Boys (Capitol)

17. It’s A Man’s World James Brown (Pye Int.)

18. Get Away Georgie Fame (Columbia)

19. Bus Stop Hollies (Parlophone)

20. Lana Roy Orbison (London)

New Musical Express (Wednesday, June 22, 1966).

So how many of these do you remember?

The very first time daddy brought us to see a round tower it seemed to touch the sky and you needed a rope ladder to reach the door which was a long way off the ground. The window holes were like slits and had no glass in them, so it must have been very draughty and dark inside. A round tower was like a round room and it was not as wide as our house. In my head it seemed only as wide as our toilet, well that was the smallest room in our house (separate to the bathroom) and I needed to get things in proportion.

I seem to remember being told then that round towers were originally built to protect our ancestors from raiders such as Vikings.

My childish mind worked overtime when I thought about it. To begin with I was small for my age when I was young, my father and uncles were all over 6ft tall. If they were standing when they spoke to me I had to look a long way up to see their faces. When we were near the tower daddy didn’t reach the bottom of the door. I hoped there would be no more Vikings. I didn’t want to climb up there.

Anyway, if we did manage to get inside how could we all fit? Maybe I would be lifted up onto someone’s shoulders. The round room went way up to the sky remember, so there would be lots of people standing on other peoples shoulders! What would I do if a heavy person was standing on my shoulders? It would be terrible if their feet were dirty and smelly. Again I hoped there would be no more raiders.

What brought this on?

You may well ask!

At the weekend I went out for a walk in the sunshine and on my travels I saw this round tower:

In 1866 James Chaine, the son of a prosperous linen merchant from Co Antrim, bought the Larne harbour with a down payment of £9,000. He repaired the existing pier and quays and had them extended and developed a rail link to the Port. In 1871 the Larne and Stranraer Steamboat Company was formed and a new paddle steamer the Princess Louise commenced a regular service between the two ports on 1^st July 1872.

A mail route was established in 1875 and a trans-Atlantic service between Glasgow, Larne and New York began in 1873. Using the renowned State Line vessels, this service continued until December 1889 and many hundreds of emigrants left Larne to start a new life in America.

James Chaine died from pneumonia in 1885 at the age of 44 and as a mark of respect the people of Larne and district raised funds by public subscription to build the Chaine Memorial Tower which dominates the entrance to the harbour.

When you think of your mother, how and where do you imagine her? For me it has to be in the kitchen wearing a pinafore with hands covered in flour while baking, or standing at the cooker stirring or checking a saucepan or casserole dish before moving on to the next stage of preparation of a meal.

While reading a post from Betty the other day called Sorry, wrong number, it reminded me of some calls I answered over the years. It gave me the idea to share some of them with you. Here I go stealing ideas again!

Back in the days when ‘The Telephone’ was a fixture like an immoveable feast, a time mentioned in a Podcast I made way back last February, I mentioned the fact that the phone was in the Hallway of our house near the foot of the stairs. No matter what hour it was or where you were when it started to ring, there was a charge of the Light Brigade to answer it. My mother was often heard to say “You sound like Guinness’s Horses!”

I actually remember the heavy rhythmic sound of the large Dray Horses from the Guinness’s Brewery as they pulled the heavy trailers over cobbled streets back to the Brewery at night. It was a comforting sound, heard as I lay in a great big bed at my (Dublin) Granny’s house on a summer’s night. Still daylight outside, the windows were open for air and the closed curtains with their large Cabbage Roses, billowed in the soft breeze.

Now back to my subject and the sample of calls to our house. We were taught to answer the phone with the number and not a name.

11.40p.m. Ring-ring, ring-ring…

Me: ****** (Number)
Caller: The Gardai are outside. Click.

11.41p.m. Ring-ring, ring-ring…

Me: ****** (Number)
Caller: Close the Bar, CLOSE THE BAR! Click.

11.42p.m. Ring-ring, ring-ring…

Me: ****** (Number)
Caller: Close the Bar the Gardai are outside. Click

We got calls for a Pub that was at least two miles away on a regular basis half an hour after the official closing time at night. Our phones numbers had the same digits but in a different order. There was no point in complaining, as the callers never stayed on the line long enough to find out their mistake.

Ring-ring, ring-ring…

Me: ****** (Number)
Caller: Is that **+**+?
Me: No, you have a wrong number.
Caller: Well if it is a wrong number, why did you answer it? Click.

Then there was the night…

Ring-ring, ring-ring…

Brother No.2: ****** (Number).
Caller: Blah-de-blah-de-blah. I only heard one side of this conversation!

Brother No.2: I’m fine, how are you?
Caller: Blah-de-blah-de-blah.

Brother No 2: When did that happen?
Caller: Blah-de-blah-de-blah.

Brother No.2: Were you very late?
Caller: Blah-de-blah-de-blah.

Brother No.2: How did it go?
Caller: Blah-de-blah-de-blah.

Brother No.2: You miss me. Really!
Caller: Blah-de-blah-de-blah.

Brother No.2: How much?
Caller: Blah-de-blah-de-blah.

Brother No.2: Mmmm! I think I better get my Brother before you tell me any more secrets. Nice talking to you!
Caller: I will NEVER phone that house again!

That call actually went on for 45 minutes without the young lady realising she was talking to the wrong brother. She and brother No.1 celebrated 40 years of marriage last week. Well done both of you and I wish you bliss and trouble free phone calls for the next forty years!

Nowadays when I get an incoming call for a number that is not my own, it might go something like this:

Ring-ring, ring-ring…

Me: Hello
Caller: Would Joe be there?
Me: I think you have the wrong number.
Caller: Oh! I am very sorry for disturbing you. Click.

Ring-ring, ring-ring…

Me: Hello
Caller: Would Joe be there?
Me: Well I hope not, or my husband might not be well pleased! (I never tell them my husband died)

Ring-ring, ring-ring…

Me: Hello
Caller: Can I speak to Joe?
Me: Hold on while I check, I set the receiver down and walk deliberately and noisily away……

Minutes later

Me: Are you still there?
Caller: Yes, is Joe there?
Me: I checked under the bed and there is no sign of him!
Caller: Click.

Ring-ring, ring-ring…

Me: Hello
Caller: Would Frank be there?
Me: Is he good-looking?
Caller: Why?
Me: Well if he is good-looking and a toy-boy he can stay!

I bet you are glad you don’t ring my number!

Where do you write a list?

Grannymar’s 3rd Great Grandfather 1763 - 1836

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

Another memory from my childhood.

The daughter wants to to know:

‘Have you ever?’
My answers in blue…
01. Bought everyone in the pub a drink
02. Swam with wild dolphins
03. Climbed a mountain - a little one, Knocknarea in Sligo when I was a little girl
04. Taken a Ferrari for a test drive
05. Been inside the Great Pyramid
06. Held a tarantula
07. Taken a candlelit bath with someone
08. Said “I love you’ and meant it - I try to say it everyday
09. Hugged a tree
10. Bungee jumped
11. Visited Paris
12. Watched a lightning storm at sea
13. Stayed up all night long and saw the sun rise
14. Seen the Northern/Southern Lights
15. Gone to a huge sports game
16. Walked the stairs to the top of the leaning Tower of Pisa
17. Grown and eaten your own vegetables
18. Touched an iceberg – if you count my feet, then yes!
19. Slept under the stars
20. Changed a baby’s nappy
21. Taken a trip in a hot air balloon
22. Watched a meteor shower
23. Got drunk on champagne
24. Given more than you can afford to charity
25. Looked up at the night sky through a telescope
26. Had an uncontrollable giggling fit at the worst possible moment –many times what women hasn’t?
27. Had a food fight – do Marshmallows count?
28. Bet on a winning horse
29. Asked out a stranger - not telling who!
30. Had a snowball fight – but hated it because I feel the cold so much
31. Screamed as loudly as you possibly can
32. Held a lamb
33. Seen a total eclipse
34. Ridden a roller coaster - in Legoland
35. Hit a home run
36. Danced like a fool and not cared who was looking – along a street when I realised I was in love!
37. Adopted an accent for an entire day
38. Actually felt happy about your life, even for just a moment – yes for the most part of life but being in love, engaged, married and becoming a mother are highlights
39. Visited all 7 states and territories in Australia
40. Taken care of someone who was drunk
41. Danced with a stranger in a foreign country
42. Watched wild whales
43. Stolen a sign – will an ashtray do?
44. Backpacked in Europe – yes I live in Europe!
45. Taken a road-trip
46. Gone rock climbing
47. What happened to 47? –seem to have lost this one
48. Midnight walk on the beach
49. Gone sky diving
50. Taken a train through Europe
51. Been heartbroken longer than you were actually in love - well I thought it was love.
52. In a restaurant, sat at a stranger’s table, and had a meal with them
53. Milked a cow
54. Alphabetized your CDs
55. Sung karaoke - Motherhood can be cruel
56. Lounged around in bed all day
57. Gone scuba diving
58. Kissed in the rain - Mmmmm!… memories.
59. Gone to a drive-in theatre
60. Started a business
61. Taken a martial arts class
62. Been in a movie
63. Crashed a party
64. Gone without food for 5 days
65. Gotten a tattoo
66. Got flowers for no reason – yes, but preferred chocolate
67. Performed on stage - In a school production
68. Been to Las Vegas
69. Recorded music
70. Eaten shark
71. Buried one or/both of your parents - both
72. Been on a cruise ship
73. Spoken more than one language fluently
74. Picked up and moved to another city to just start over – Wiesbaden, Germany
75. Walked the Sydney Harbour Bridge
76. Had plastic surgery
77. Survived an accident that you shouldn’t have survived
78. Wrote articles for a large publication – does a newspaper count?
79. Piloted an airplane
80. Petted a stingray
81. Broken someone’s heart – if I did he never told me.
82. Broken a bone - my right wrist
83. Eaten sushi
84. Had your picture in the newspaper
85. Parasailed
86. Skipped all your school reunions
87. Shaved your head
88. Caused a car accident - a minor one, but whoops….
89. Pretended to be “sick” - part of school days
90. Surfed in the ocean
91. Saved someone’s life
92. Fainted – while doing duty on a flag day.
93. Been in the room while someone is giving birth – yes me!
94. Hitchhiked – from Dublin to Salthill in Galway, way back in another life when it was safe to do so and I was not alone.
95. Adopted a child
96. Been caught daydreaming - favourite pastime in my schooldays, had to make the day go by somehow.
97. Been to Ayers Rock
98. Called off a wedding engagement
99. Donated your blood
100. Become a follower of Jesus Christ- growing up in Ireland you started that way and then perhaps became something else!