There is a kick in joining the dots of information.
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There may be a difference between the strategies of city based and coastal based seagulls. Last week, I was enjoying a dirty black pint with my chips and sandwich at Murphy’s Bar at Brandon Pier - there is something extra tasty about a summer lunchtime pint. Sitting there, us city dwellers saw for the first time dive-bombing seagulls. They are possibly common and seen by nearly all but me. As new to me, I thought it warranted an upload even though it is not a sign (or is it) and especially even though I have yet to find out how to manipulate video to turn 90°. A while back, Donncha on Old of Cork Photos uploaded a series of images of Cork in 1987. The one that struck me was where the construction of the Multi-Storey Car Park at Marchants’ Quay was in progress – the shopping centre façade had not yet commenced. I remember in 1986 working for a summer in a building with a window looking onto the construction site and spending quite some time watching the works. I was particularly impressed with one of the two tower cranes on site – it was on railway-type tracks and was able to move up and down the quay to the appropriate location as required. Merchants’ Quay was regularly on my route home. Prior to the DeValera and Collins Bridges, St Patrick’s Bridge was the first available bridge to the north. Many times I passed the Shopping Centre and I do not think that I ever liked it. Previously I blogged about the streetscape photograph, predating the shopping centre, which hangs in Dan Lowry’s. A few months back at the Special Irish Interest window sale held annually at the Irish Cancer Society shop, I managed to spot these images of Merchants’ Quay before the shopping centre when obviously some buildings were let to deteriorate in advance of the overall redevelopment – still happening today. We have had the magnifying glass out and have managed to decipher some of the stores and branding including – Jack Corkery’s Pig & Whistle; The Universal; Mulcahy Hairdressers – there was a recollection of there being a barber there but the use of 'hairdresser 'explained the lack of blood and bandage pole. I learned that a ‘Kelvinator’ was a brand of fridge. Could you imagine a city centre premises for Floor Cloth & Brush Manufacturers? St Vincent’s Hostel was an imposing block. Only 39p for King Size cigarettes. The vans with ESB and Astra Pumps branding. I need to do more digging as to the two buildings at the Parnell Place end. It looks like QU_ _ _ HOTEL on the corner. We guessed DRYDOCK BAR but are unsure. If you really want to see what passed for architectural merit in the 1980’s, streetview will oblige. Me – I’ve seen it more than enough already.
It has been a while since I attended the Cardiac Rehabilitation classes – so some of the details may have faded over time.
Even with a restricted recollection, I am fairly certain that they did not recommend a breakfast as healthy when consisting of grilled bacon and sausages; waffle; hash browns; poached egg; beans; tomato; toast or bread & butter; and, tea or coffee. Maybe the grilling and poaching makes things healthy. Or maybe it is healthy in comparison to the others at Midway. Thinking back, it probably reflects a young inquisitive mind with an interest in why as well as things new and eclectic. I liked chess but did not have the dedication to learn all the gambits and opening series of moves. Even now, I do like thinking of what is likely to appear or develop. But if something is nearly certain, my attitude has always been why not just get there fast – or even start from there. Get rid of the obvious. I spotted this in the window of the Irish Cancer Shop on Castle Street a while back. I was in the shop the week after the window sale. It had been sold. I wonder would I have purchased or was I just curious as to price. In primary school, in fifth or sixth class, a teacher introduced a few of us to what I had filed away as blind chess. A game with two chess boards but each player could only see one board, the board with their pieces. A referee maintained a board on which he combined both boards and advised as to whether your move was available or even if you had captured a piece.
I think I played it only twice – finding a willing referee among 11 year-olds was not that easy as I remember. The window display in the shop brought it all back. Wikipedia advises that I was actually playing Kriegspiel – one of the very many variations of chess. That there was such an extent of variations was completely new to me, forty years after being introduced to one. Blind Chess (or Blindfold Chess) is yet another variation, which is actually chess played in the mind, without seeing any board or pieces. It brought back again that scene in ‘A Midnight Clear’ where a game of bridge among four has been written by a fifth on separate pieces of cardboard and that keeping them occupied for such a time – when five to ten minutes is the norm. I like to think that I have a good memory and also an interest in things new to me but I suspect that Blindfold Chess will remain unplayed in this lifetime. As for three-handed chess, as well as two other players, I will need to find a board. I suspect that three years at this blog – and decades of being pedantic and particular, although I prefer precise – has affected how I read signs and notices. If the objective of the message is to find a new employee, I would have thought a message along the lines of ‘We are looking to employ a motivated and qualified chef’, ‘Motivated and qualified chef required’ or even, ‘We have a vacancy for a motivated and qualified chef’. A few months back we dined at Les Gourmandises. The food and flavours definitely gave one to believe that the chef was very qualified and able. Maybe I am in a small minority but when I read the notice, the precise me asked ‘Why? Can’t you find one in the building?’ Maybe I need a drink……. Is ‘Waitstaff’ a word accepted by the dictionaries? Or just a word jumbled together to make the message as short as possible. Me – I thought the expression would have been ‘Waiting Staff’- but what do I know? Even as I type, Word suggests I split into ‘wait staff’. McMillan put me firmly back in my box, advising that ‘waitstaff’ are ‘the people who bring food and drink to your table in a restaurant or café’ – ‘wait staff’ is an alternative. ‘Waiting staff’ has a similar definition. Collins Dictionary does not like ‘waiting staff’ but has ‘waitstaff’ as a North American English word - (US & Canadian) the collective term for waiters and waitresses – Cork’s northside not being a hotbed of American English may be my excuse. But I know now. Chambers does not recognise ‘waitstaff’ or ‘waiting staff’. I knew what was intended by the sign as I suspect did all readers so it is probably another case of “Words are in dictionaries because they exist – they do not exist because they are in dictionaries” If you are looking for any expertise in what defines Art, modern or otherwise, the screen in front of you now is definitely not the correct place. I am no expert in what defines Modern Art but I did understand it to be work that went beyond what had become the norm; work of a style that challenged the viewer as to interpretation and meaning; work that went beyond the limits of acceptability. A quick web trawl gave me comfort that I was not very wrong with my understanding as to Modern Art. Terms that come to mind include ‘stepping outside a comfort zone’; ‘challenging the norm’; and, ‘pushing boundaries’. On Tuesday, I smiled when at the Tate in Liverpool. Of all the places to discourage ‘crossing the line’, the Tate was not top of the list in my mind. I watched many others pass the art installation. Not one smiled. No one appeared to see any humour in the message on the floor. I did mention that I was far from an art expert. …not a box of chocolates, but maybe a mobile phone. This morning, I turned off the ‘Out Of Office’, somewhat unfulfilled.
On previous years, I was buzzing after returning from the conversational Irish weekend in Ballyferriter, having had a weekend where work was completely forgotten. This morning, there was a definite sense that it was too short. The desire to return to the office was absent. Just like my mobile phone battery, maybe recharge time takes longer with age…..
2016.04.23
Any plans I had for doing my own Camino have not developed in the recent years. They remain a notion with a probable route.
As mentioned before, every so often I will spot a book or something that will remind me of the unfulfilled wish. When in Boolteens on the Dingle peninsula, I was surprised by a Fire Hydrant cover, complete with scallop shell. Those conscience prickers again catching me when I least expect. It is not a phrase that I regularly use. As a confirmed agnostic, if that is not a contradiction of terms, saying ‘God to you’ is not something that sits comfortably. ‘Conas atá tú? , ‘How are you’, is my salutation of choice. ‘Dia duit’ is an expression that I definitely keep my ear open for in conversational Irish class, primarily to find out any other possible greetings. One of the notes this year was the pronunciation and spelling – there is the sound of a h (Dhuit) when spoken but it is spelled as ‘Duit’. This is confirmed in focloir.ie as well as my copy of Buntús Cainte. The ‘Irish Grammar Book’ by Nollaig MacCongáil states that ‘in speech this initial d is pronounced as if it were lenited’, as in ‘dhuit’. All this was fine and mentally filed away appropriately – and then the C.S.O. had to upset matters. Returning after the Easter weekend away, there were two postcards from the census enumerator, each with an extra ‘h’ – ‘Dia Dhuit’.
Pota-Focal does have ‘Dia dhuit’ as an alternative to ‘Dia duit’ citing examples from a few Irish-learning books. Online discussions indicate that ‘Dia duit’ is standard Irish but regional variations arise with different dialects. Once again, language proves that exceptions, differences and new versions are always possible. As to why the Central Statistics Office departed from standard Irish, I do not know.
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