Grannymar

Alan in Belfast wrote about the high point of a Northern Ireland’s summer season, or the Marching Season as it is known. You can catch up on his posts here and here.

He mentions the suggestion that it should become a Cultural Tourist Event.

Before the 12th becomes a Cultural Tourist Event the Powers that be in Tourism and the Orange Order need to step back and take a long hard look at what happens as part of the twelfth of July celebrations.

OK Alan, as a native you have some idea of how it evolved and what it is about, but as a visitor coming in raw, what image do enormous bonfires of stolen pallets and tyres from motor vehicles producing palls of acrid smoke and surrounded by people who seem to have fallen out of a pub, do to sell the province?

This Video is from 2007 but will give you an idea of how a Bonfire is built.

Up to about five years ago a field that bordered my land was taken over and a bonfire built and burned there. Trees on our property were hacked when wood was scarce, but we could have told them, if they bothered to ask, that fresh branches are to damp to burn. Nobody ever asked our permission to chop the trees or place the fire right behind our bungalow. The field was way below us so we had a ringside view of all that went on. Naturally no thought of our feelings were taken into consideration. The drunken squalling that supposedly was the singing of ‘The Sash‘ (one line repeated endlessly) was an insult to any occasion. The fire burned all night and indeed smouldered for nearly a week covering our bungalow and gardens with a layer of soot and bits of half burned tyres. The whole place reeked of burning rubber for weeks and needed to be hosed down on the morning of the 13^th.

I have watched 12th Parades both live and on TV over the years. I am sorry; but in my mind a parade is marched with military precision in time to a band. What I witnessed over the years could in no way be called marching but rather slouching along with participants waving to everyone they know. It would be impossible to march properly anyway, as each lodge was preceded by a band, and each band thumped a different attempt at a tune.

The Belfast Telegraph give a flavour of this years main Parade in Belfast.

Alan’s description of what happened at the field further shows that the whole thing is a sham and an insult to Queen and country, as are the Flags that appear all over the countryside at the end of June and are left there to rot and decay all year long at the mercy of the weather.

Marches will take place are regular intervals from now to the end of August across the Province, often culminating with a church service. During my years as a Church Warden I was involved in preparing for and greeting the Orange Men. The church hall was opened for the band to off load their instruments – large drums etc. Regularly the band members stayed in the hall for the duration and quite a few of those who did enter the church were unfamiliar with service or the hymns chosen by the Orange men themselves beforehand.

New Drawing Boards are needed!

I remember as a youngster my father lecturing my brothers and me about having respect for ‘The Flag’, no matter what country you were in. The place for flags are public buildings and they should be removed (never touching the ground) before sundown. The greatest insult is to have a flag with a rip or tear in it. Painting flags on faces or wearing shorts made from fabric that looks like a Union Jack is way off the grid where I am concerned.

Well my Dears, I had a test of survival last night! The power went off at 8.30pm. I checked the trip switch in the garage and then heard neighbours opening garage doors so I knew I was not the only one affected. The Electricity Board informed me that the break in service was due to vandalism and it might be midnight before it was restored. Some young bucks were letting off fire crackers earlier, they actually sounded like gun shots! One hit the local electricity sub-station for our estate so we were all left in the proverbial dark. Looking out the back windows the rest of the town was all brightly lit.

My computer went black just as I was answering an email and thinking of a post for today. I unplugged and checked that candles and lighters were where they should be. Fortunately I keep a plentiful supply of candles; I often light one for friends who are going through difficult or stressful times. I light the candle and think of the person or people for a few moments while looking at the flame and then let it sit and burn for the day, checking at intervals that it is still alight and trim the wick

Thankfully it was still bright and warm at 8.30pm, so there was no need for heating or lights. I went to check on elderly neighbours one of whom had been discharged from hospital in the afternoon. Not being happy with their candles (the tall narrow variety, easy to knock over) I came home for some sturdy nightlight holders and night-lights, thanks to Elly and IKEA, and my spare lighter. They are so much safer for unsteady hands.

I went to my bed early leaving one light switch and the bedside radio on. I listened to the radio on my mobile phone for a short while and soon drifted off to sleep. The radio and light woke me at 1.30am. I made a warm drink and checked the house to make sure that everything was in order. Snuggling down once more I slept until 4am. That’s a good night sleep for me, although I never get up at that time. I allow the body to doze as I listen to the radio and occasionally I SLEEP as I did this morning, waking at 8.30 with a thick fog wrapped around my brain. It is clearing….I hope!

Normal service will resume tomorrow.

As I walked the mile down the hill to town the other day I suddenly became aware of the passing of time. I managed to reach my destination without talking to a living soul! I was not trying to avoid people; it was that I saw nobody on my expedition. How life has changed over the past 31 years.

The journey once I leave my small estate has more houses now than it had when I first arrived in this town. One side had houses all the way, some set back from the road with the boundary marked by high walls, and further along a long terrace with postcard sized front gardens. These gardens were so small that I actually remember seeing an old man regularly cutting his square of grass with a large scissors! An opening led to a small Housing Executive Estate where on a sunny day the women stood at their front doors chatting. The once green area on the far side now sports apartments, townhouses and a small estate of semi- detached houses before joining an old terraced row that faces directly onto the street. There are more cars now, but where are the people?

In my early married life there were always people about no matter what time of day it was. The early morning saw folk walking briskly to work and children sauntering along on the way to school. Later women armed with shopping bags hurried to find the fresh bread, vegetables, meat or fish for that day’s main meal. Everyone had a word of greeting as they passed, some stopping for a chat or the opportunity to share the latest gossip, or perhaps dig for a fresh snippet of news. Every second shop on the main street was a ‘Home Bakery’ but they never heard of fresh cream in those days or of a Coffee Shop.

The town has changed over the years as has the world. Every other house has a satellite dish on the roof, a car or three on the drive and every modern convenience indoors, yet you seldom see the occupants. With modern day internet it is possible to purchase every bite we eat, every stitch we wear and everything we need for living, pay our bills and deal with the bank all at the press of a button. There is no need to go out.

Now if the worst happened (and everyone in the South of Ireland is prepared, we know that, because the Irish Government has sent out books of instructions on how to cope with all eventualities) how long would you survive if trapped in your home?

I did a test and should last for:

Created by OnePlusYou

What about you?

Update: If you click on the link go to the bottom of the page for the Quizzes.

We all need good news these days.

Today I had Mail, snail mail and email. One item each and neither brought a smile!

The snail mail came in a brown envelope, you know the type, A5 size with a window to show my name and address. Turning it over the return address was the one that gives us all the shivers: HM Revenue & Customs.

Worry not it was my annual PAYE Coding Notice. It gave my new tax code payable from 6^th April for 2008 -2009. I devoured the printed word on the letter; well you need something to concentrate on while masticating on muesli and it reminded me that there are two tax bands:

• 20% on £34600
• 40% on anything over £34600

The first point should read 20% on income up to £34600.

In plain English that means that for my half-crown in taxable income I pay the same rate as Joe Bloggs who earns £34,599.99! Simple yes, but is it fair?

Now for item no 2 my email. This little beauty arrived:

Security Center <service@yahoo.com>

to

Date Sat, Feb 23, 2008 at 8:20 AM

Subject Unauthorized Activity

Dear valued PayPal member,
It has come to our attention that your PayPal account information needs to be updated as part of our continuing commitment to protect your account and to reduce the instance of fraud on our website. If you could please take 5-10 minutes out of your online experience and update your personal records you will not run into any future problems with the online service.
However, failure to update your records will result in account suspension. Please update your records on or before February 24, 2008.
Once you have updated your account records, your PayPal session will not be interrupted and will continue as normal.
To update your PayPal records click on the following link:
http://XXXX.XXXX.XXXXXXX/icons/cgi/ (altered by moi!)
Thank You.
PayPal Update Team
Accounts Management As outlined in our User Agreement, PayPal will periodically send you information about site changes and enhancements.

Very kind, I hear you say of PayPal to remind me, but the problem is I DO NOT Have a PayPal account. I never had a PayPal account.

I seldom shop online, call me old fashioned, but I like the feel of the item in my hand before I part with my money.

The last time I purchased anything over the internet was my Moo Cards last September. They had an option to pay by Credit Card or by PayPal. Not having an account I used my Credit Card.

This email was not the first purporting to come from PayPal. I received one back in November.

For those of you who use this method of payment, take note and take care.

I thought it was Sunday and the Epiphany, the twelfth day of Christmas. A day for wise men to remove the decorations of the festive season.

Since I have no wise man to assist me I undertake the chore myself. Most years I wait until the evening and while listening to some music I gather all the boxes, tissue and tape in one place. I had all the boxes at the ready early today and then something unusual happened - the Sun decided to shine. The garden was still white with frost but I had the urge to stretch my legs.

Wrapping up well I headed out taking my camera with me on the off chance I might find something interesting to snap along the way. Heading out I encountered large icy patches on the paths and roadway. Turning the corner I was aware of hazards of a canine kind, dog turds everywhere. I looked about but there was no sign of Grandad or his golf clubs anywhere. I doubt if his swing is strong enough to reach these parts from the Wicklow hills.

Since the river winds it way through the local park and it is low lying and prone to flooding, I headed up the town to the square. The window of the Paper Shop had a shock in store for me. I went inside in case I was hallucinating, but no my eyes were not deceiving me!

All along one wall were these!!

Valentine’s Day Cards

Now if that was not enough when I got near the cash desk I saw these!

Why, oh why, are we not allowed to have a few normal interludes in the year instead of rolling spendfests?

Rhea at The Boomer Chronicles asked on Wednesday 2^nd January Should Celebrities Who’ve Had Strokes Retire? She opened with this statement:

I feel bad about saying this, but was I the only one cringing as Dick Clark galumphed his way through his annual New Year’s Eve broadcast from Times Square? The effects of his 2004 stroke were in evidence.

I wanted to add my thoughts on the subject at the time, but a senior moment would not allow me to recall a name I needed! I have to admit that I was distracted by a phone call and forgot about my desire to comment for the remainder of the day.

On Thursday LifeTwo blogs by Wesley picked up the subject and asked the same question. He went on to say

“I do feel that the less that stroke victims (or any other disease) are stigmatised the better for all. Mr. Clark had to relearn how to walk and talk and if part of his motivation for doing so was a desire to get back to his regular life then more power to him.”

Unstable health has prevented me from working in gainful employment for the past 5-6 years. I in no way feel ready for the grave! I have my say and interact with people through my blog and various forms of modern technology. Unfortunately the modern world we live in today allows for isolationism. We work, write, speak, shop and all but sleep through computers. It is possible to go for a week or longer without seeing another living soul.

When young and healthy and in a work situation it is easier to think and make regular arrangements for social activities. I have to admit that I miss the social interaction with work colleagues: the laughter to ease a tense work situation, the support when something proves difficult and the praise and sense of achievement for a job well done, and the laughter… yes the laughter at all the little silly things we all do from time to time.

We all become distracted with day to day normal life and those, who for some reason are out of the loop become forgotten. It is not intentional, just the way life is.

If we start excluding people because they suffer the effects of a stroke we are in danger of encouraging the snowball syndrome. Stroke victims today, epileptics tomorrow! We may not agree with the ideas of Professor Stephen Hawking who has had motor neuron disease for practically all his adult life. Yet it has not prevented him from having a family, and being successful in his field of work. Thanks are due to Jane his wife, his children, and a large number of other people and organisations. The condition has progressed more slowly for Stephen than is often the case. But it shows that no one need lose hope of doing something worthwhile.

At this time of Year, around the world, thousands of people set themselves goals to achieve for the next twelve months. The vast majority of these good intentions come to nothing. January 17 is actually known as the annual “Break Your Resolution Day”. Yet come the next New Year, and the same folk are back, with fresh resolve promising to diet, exercise, and learn yoga or a new craft all over again.

This variation on ‘The Night before Christmas’ by Clement Clarke Moore might explain why!

‘Twos the week after Christmas and all through the house
nothing would fit me, not even a blouse.
The cookies I’d nibbled, the eggnog I’d taste

at the holiday parties had gone to my waist.

When I got on the scales there arose such a number!
When I walked to the store, less a walk than a lumber.

I’d remember the marvelous meals I’d prepared;
The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared,

The wine and the rum balls, the bread and the cheese
And the way I’d never said, “No thank you, please.”

As I dressed myself in my husband’s old shirt
and prepared once again to do battle with dirt

I said to myself, as I only can
“You can’t spend a winter disguised as a man!”

So away with the last of the sour cream dip,
Get rid of the fruit cake, every cracker and chip

Every last bit of food that I like must be banished
“Till all the additional ounces have vanished.

I won’t have a cookie - not even a lick.
I’ll want only to chew on a long celery stick.

I won’t have hot biscuits, or corn bread, or pie,
I’ll munch on a carrot and quietly cry.

I’m hungry, I’m lonesome, and life is a bore
But isn’t that what January is for?

Unable to giggle, no longer a riot.
Happy New Year to you and to all a good diet!

Donal weighed in at 2lbs which is just short of a Kilo. He was a very premature baby that his mother carried for less than six months. He had no hair, eyelashes, eyebrows or nails and his skin was porous. He was not expected to survive for very long so the Paediatrician suggested taking him home. His actual words were “He might as well die at home as in here!”

Donal’s homecoming was not as easy as it sounds. His father was sent to find a ‘small’ cot/crib which he did, and it was ready and waiting for the new occupant when he arrived with his ill mother and a nurse. The nurse lived with and became part of the family over the next six months, she was called ‘No-No’ by Donal’s two year-old brother, and the name stuck. To this day if you say the name ‘No-No’ to any of the family they know exactly who you mean.

The Paediatrician soon arrived and set to work.

He gave precise instructions about feeding and cleaning the baby. Donal was not to be washed or bathed in water! His skin was to be cleaned with olive oil and cotton wool. Food was to be administered by medicine dropper, every hour on the hour! He rigged up a large light bulb over the cot to provide extra heat for the premature baby and it was to remain on night and day. Being wintertime the temperature was quite low. A fire was lit in the bedroom and kept going day and night.

Each day was a milestone, but there were many when they fought to keep the baby alive. The Paediatrician was a regular caller and was delighted with any little improvement. The danger stage eventually passed and Donal was introduced to bottle feeding and began to put on a little weight. The first size baby clothes fitted and slowly the pleasure of washing and bath-time became part of the daily routine. The light was removed from over the cot, but Donal slept in it for a full year.

With Donal’s move to a normal sized baby cot the little one was cleaned, covered and stored in the loft. It was used again with pride for the arrival of his four younger siblings.

The little cot appeared for the first time 62 years ago. There were no incubators, or ‘Baby Units’ in hospitals like we have today, the only clothes for premature babies were dolls clothes. Houses had no central heating and washing was all done by hand. Nappies were rinsed, then boiled and when washing was complete they were line dried. The feeding bottles were sterilised by boiling. A baby was hard work back then!

The little cot moved through the family for the arrival of each new baby. Cousins, nieces and nephews all started their lives in it. I spent my early months in it as did Elly. For Donal the most precious moment was the day he placed his own daughter in the little cot. Now once again the cot is stored away and who knows, someday Donal might be blessed with a grandchild to sleep in that very special Cot.

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

Where do you write a list?