|
Marilyn,
The Tattooed lady is my Mum.
I thought that photo had been destroyed in a fire years ago.
Don't you see how much I look like her. Most everything I have droops as well
ROFL x 2 plus a wee backflip and a cartwheel.
|
|
I'd buy Dermot's book as well!
|
|
Stephen, that was a bit of a dilemma for you with that book. It must have been hard to lose it but even harder to ask for it back.
Dermot, there's a few copies of your book you've sold already and you haven't even written it yet. Cath, Pat, Stephen and myself have all said we'd buy it. Haven't read back to look at the other posts yet but I think everyone on here would buy it.
Rita, I'll go and have a look at Ancestry to see if they've moved it, I'll get back to you.
|
|
Rita, I've sent you a PM.
|
|
School Days - as I remember them, warts & all (Part 2).
As I hinted previously, our school building was a very plain & simple structure. However, as with books, we should not go by the cover but the quality inside.
Apart from a few school books & copies to write on, there were very few additional teaching aids. Blackboards (it was ok to use this term then!) & chalk were just a few extras. I even remember using different coloured chalks when drawing the outline of some scientific gadget or other - a Bunsen Burner perhaps.
There was always a mist in the room caused by the extensive use of chalk & its ever present dust. Depending on which direction the sun rays entered the room via the large windows, you could almost make out the beginning of a rainbow caused by the meandering chalk dust. We never did find the pot of gold at the end of our own rainbow!
The school was not big enough for the number of scholars attending. So, we had to take it in turns with lessons. We would spend one hour sitting doing written work using our posh nib pens that needed to be dipped regularly into inkwells which were sunk into our wooden desks - Charles Dickens comes to mind here!
Following that, we would spend another hour standing around the blackboard or the world maps hanging from the walls. It would seem that many of the countries on these maps were coloured pink - I suppose nobody reading this piece of nonsense would have any idea why this should be so. Explanations from Miss Fox did the trick.
Apparently, she had a few trips abroad by ship to France & Denmark at a time when doing so from our backwater area was unheard of. She was a single lady with no family & a regular teacher’s pay - so, she could budget. The poor farmers’ income was spasmodic depending on the season plus the ups & downs of the price of animals at the periodic cattle markets.
As I said before, the Catholic Priest was also the school manager & selected teachers for his school. It wouldn’t surprise me if ‘brown envelopes’ were exchanged on such occasions. He also dispatched teachers if they were not of the right calibre. Tough times to be sacked or made redundant. No financial recompense.
When the Parish Priest, Fr Mangan, decided to pay the school an unannounced visit, Miss Fox was promptly informed by her spies. The taller children who could see out the window would keep a watch on all passing traffic. It was important that Miss Fox would have everything in order for his arrival to include the hiding of the ever present cane. He was easy to spot on his approach in his black ‘Sandyman’ coat & bowler hat. No local farmer would be seen dead wearing such headgear.
Fr Mangan, a genial gentleman, would test our knowledge on several subjects & we would shivering in our skins in case we gave incorrect answers. As well as that, it would show-up Miss Fox if the priest’s perception of our educational ability was a bit lacking.
But, generally, all was well. For a half-hour we would be asked to play outside so that Miss Fox could prepare tea for his reverence which would include a few dainty biscuits - none of us country lads had ever seen such delicious eatables. Off he would go then with a cheery wave to us.
It wasn’t too long after one such visit that he died. Old age no doubt - something we will all suffer in due course, if we are lucky. He was given a good send-off as only the Irish know how to do and, what‘s more, we were allowed the day off school to attend the funeral.
He was replaced in due course & the process of getting to know the new priest began. Apparently, Fr Joyce came from a wealthy family in the next county & it would seem that money supply was not a problem. No matter which county you were born in, it always seemed there were much more prosperous residents in the neighbouring county - don’t know why!
He began to have a new priest’s house built not far from the school. To us, it looked like a mansion with its carefully landscaped gardens & orchard. Ah, that orchard matured nicely over the years & so did the idea of the occasional night time expeditions there by subsequent generations of pupils. Didn't Adam & Eve do something similar.
Big double iron gates were installed at the roadside opening on to a wide drive which led to the front door. Fr Joyce, was a youngish man as far as we could tell with sharp features, tall & lean. Apparently, he was a useful Gaelic Football player at school & college before he decided to change course.
He regularly wore a black trilby hat. He rarely smiled & was not respected as much as his predecessor. Somehow, he lacked the usual Irish ability to communicate with his congregation. He gave the impression of being unapproachable - not good in his occupation.
He used to read his breviary at about the same time every day while he walked slowly from his front door to the big gates and back again - weather permitting. At intervals, he would partake of some substance from a small flask which he kept in his inside pocket. In our innocence, we thought he was drinking some holy water. Years later, we found out that the liquid in the flask was of a strong gold nature - good to keep out the cold no doubt. And why not!
After he was moved to another area about ten years later, a rumour put it about that Fr Joyce was related to William Joyce of World War II infamy, better known to radio listeners as ‘Lord Haw-Haw’. I suspect that this was just a bit of mischief. Who knows & does it matter now?
|
|
Thank you Pauline I sent you and emailed back.
Dermot . I could hear that chalk squeaking when Miss Fox was writting on the blackboard what memories the squeak of the chalk and the dust flying off the duster when it had been used to wipe the blackboard clean and given a good shake .made many of us sneeze.
sometimes she would press so hard on the chalk it would snap with a loud sound making us jump.
Thanks for the memories Dermot.
Marilyn I thought that was you who had washed your Ipod it had little patterns between the name.
Rita
|
|
Rita, I've sent you another PM, hope it's of some help.
Dermot, I'm loving this, I feel like I'm watching it on the telly............ brilliant.
|
|
Dermot, fabulous.
I had my first experience of an Irish funeral last June when my father in law died. I was stunned by the generosity of my mother in laws neighbours who found beds for all family arriving for funeral, fed and watered us liberally and organised the after funeral feed. People were so kind, even at the graveside they held umbrellas over us whilst getting drenched themselves. (Lovely Irish weather, lol).
I was worried about how my mother in law would cope on her own after we left as shes not in the best of health herself but I needn't have worried at all as neighbours and friends pop in to help her out daily and she wants for nothing. Can't wait to get back there in April and see them all.
Cath xx
|
|
Cath, people in this country were like that when I was young, not any more though - times change.
It's nice to know that it's still like that in some places.
|
|
Going to have dinner now, they're moaning at me for sitting here instead of putting the dinner out. Wonder why I'm the only person who knows where the kitchen is.
|
|
Pauline, draw them a map and send them on their way, lol.
|
|
evening all
im being lazy to day have not done nuthink apart from go shoping this morning
my hubby has a lot of tattoo he has one on his bum as wall
|
|
Dermot
School days. I loved the bit about the ink wells. I had those at the junior school I went to. I used a cartridge pen so I was ok. I hated when I first used an ink pen because being left handed I would smudge my work!
going to wash my hair now x
|
|
Although I have popped in and out today I have still managed to achieve my objective set this morning. My library makeover is well and truly on schedule.
|
|
Well done Stephen.
Sweet dreams everyone
Cath xx
|
|
bleeding hell is it bed time for you lot already lol
and its not even 10 o clock yet
|
|
I'm here Shelly...
My sister has not long gone.
So I'm catching up on threads
Did she sort out with the vicar ???
|
|
I'm trying to watch the Promise on C4.
I nodded off and I've lost the plot. I think it's due to the lack of a lie-in!
I'm going to get a cup of coffee. Caffeine is good!
|
|
Night all.
Shower, supper then bed.
|
