Cork - August 2020
There can be benefits of proof-reading.
It helps avoid confusion with a swell as well.
It helps avoid confusion with a swell as well.
“Words are in dictionaries because they exist – they do not exist because they are in dictionaries” Máire Nic Mhaoláin
I have used the above quotation in more than a few previous blog posts when I have come across a word and wondered as to its use and origin. ‘Roastery’ is the latest word that appears to have a campaign for inclusion in a dictionary because it is in use. Macmillan Dictionary, Chambers Dictionary and Merriam Webster Dictionary all do not have an entry for the word ‘Roastery’. Cambridge Dictionary and Collins Dictionary appears ahead of its rivals and advises that a ‘Roastery’ is a place where coffee beans are roasted.
 I have been recording roadside memorials for many years – hopefully I will get the map up-to-date at some point. Some memorials do impact greater than others. Maybe two days before Christmas Day had an effect on this agnostic. Maybe it was the clear photograph and simple message. Maybe it brought to mind the memorial to Jonathan Corrie. Maybe it was because I recognised Mary from the streets of the city centre for more than a few years and never knew her name.
Powerful Memorial.   A few years back, I wrote a blog about a peacock that I spotted at 6:40 one morning walking home, crossing the main Tralee to Dingle road as if he owned it.
DK texted me shortly afterwards to say that it is a sad case that a bird cannot go out for a night without photographs appearing on social media. Yesterday, on Pine Street, I spotted a hare complete with cigarette and bottle of (what I took to be) vodka, after what looked like a similar long night, but a possibly different outcome. If the objective of street art is to raise a smile, this was a complete success. I have seen signs for The Samaritans at very many locations where I have thought the message could be interpreted as suggestive in a counter-intended direction – railway platforms; quays; waterways. To me these signs put a thought in my mind that had not been there prior to reading the sign. Maybe that is just the way I am wired…
Yesterday, while walking around the Tank Field, I observed a different approach from Pieta House. I have often gifted a tree, most often a cherry blossom, as a remembrance of a bereaved relative; the arrival of a new birth; and, the occupation of a new house. So I was pleasantly surprised to see the new addition on my walk. The use of the R.E.M. lyrics made the smile wider.
On Tuesday, I observed how the modern Covid-world met the folklore-world. Initially, I was surprised, but really I ought not to have been, and should have expected it. At many of the Holy Wells that I have visited, there has been a Rag Tree, upon which visitors would tie a piece of cloth. As I understand the practice, the visitor rubs the cloth on that part of the body with an affliction prior to fixing the cloth to the Rag Tree hoping to transfer the affliction to the cloth/rag and to leave the affliction behind at the Rag Tree when the visitor departs for home. Today I listened to the RTE Archive clip on Fr. Moore’s Well which is located just outside Kildare town, on the road to Milltown. On Tuesday, the well had very many items which would have been encountered at other Holy Wells that I have visited – a sign describing how to perform the stations/rounds; a donation box; a memorial card, and, a Rag Tree. Fr.Moore’s Well provided all of these and more. It had a crutch – whether cast aside in hope, in recovery, or, for effect is unknown. But it was the Rag Tree, or more particularly, the rags, that brought the tradition upto the year 2020. Among the items tied to the tree were, not just one, but two face masks – one was disposal-type of the medical sky-blue colour; the other was a reuseable-type of a bright purple colour with what appeared to be the initials ‘S.Q.’. A used face-mask is a perfect example of ‘only of value as homage’ and proof of the continuation of tradition.
 Grey Abbey, Kildare An rud is annamh is iontach is an Irish saying which translates as ‘that what is rare, is wonderful’. The word ‘killed’ is a rarity found on headstones, from my experience of visits to cemeteries. It does cause this writer to step back, consider, and, in the case of John Flanagen, do some further investigartion.
 I was unable to find any press report as to the traffic incident or the inquest. The death cert and the headstone differ slightly – Jackie derives from Jack which in turn derives from John – so that is understandable. I have previously written as to the use of the word ‘kill’. I had difficulty in its use in a non-intentional setting. It is interesting that among the options available as to outcome of an inquest, the only ‘kill’ is ‘unlawful killing’ – that is one way of avoiding any confusion as to the interpretation of the word ‘kill’.
Some enjoy a visit to Kildare Village. My preference, by far, would be the adjoining cemetery. The adjacent headstone is to Evelyn Flanagan, who died aged 7 weeks, in August 1934. If Evelyn was Jackie’s sister, one family would have lost two children in less than three years which may be enough to use ‘kill’ rather than ‘died’.
 Shanrahan Cemetery – Part 5
 Shanrahan Cemetery – Part 4
As we were making to leave the cemetery for the first time, local residents, P.J. and his good wife, out for their evening stroll, educated me as to The Fairy Tree and brought me to the grave of Katie Ryan where the headstone records the name of the deceased and the song. It is a bad day when one does not learn something new.
Shanrahan Cemetery – Part 3  There are three deaths. The first is when the body ceases to function. The second is when the body is consigned to the grave. The third is that moment, sometime in the future, when your name is spoken for the last time.
Maybe Not Lost Lost – Just Lost In Plain Sight 
When in Shanrahan last week, I decided to look out for headstones, the subject of Photo Requests on the Find-A-Grave website. Three requests proved elusive. William Wade was spotted close to the O’Callaghan mausoleum. The date of death of 1965 suggested that the headstone of Edward Sackville-West would be easily found in the new part of the cemetery and it was. His Find-A-Grave biography does read of an interesting life. That evening I met P.J. and his lady wife who were out for a stroll and advised that they understood that Edward was descended from the family that gave its name to Sackville Street – now O’Connell St. in Dublin. The referred me to a book by local historian Ed O’Riordan – Lonely Little God’s Acre on Shanrahan cemetery which has now been requested through the Inter-Library Loan.
On a Tuesday evening, outside Clogheen in County Tipperary, I was smiling broadly once the carver’s name was spotted. The headstone was admired, and touched. Earlier this week, a long day’s work after an early start finished in Cahir just after five and I decided to treat myself to a Supertramp evening – I took the Long Way Home , the road not previously travelled. I have recently started putting my ‘To Visit’ locations on a Google Map so that it is easier to cross-check diversions and distractions when time may permit on a journey. I recently learned of Fr. Nicholas Sheehy via Tipperary Studies on Twitter. He was hung drawn and quartered in Clonmel in 1766 and buried in Shanrahan Cemetery, outside Clogheen in Co. Tipperary where he is also remembered with a monument outside the church and in the name of the local GAA Club – An t-Athair Sithigh. Fr. Sheehy’s grave is in a reasonably prominent position in the graveyard – a double grave adjacent to the old church, shared with Rev. Dr. James Glison. It is interesting to note that the plaque was erected in 1898, the centenary year of the 1798 rebellion and 132 years after his death. The tomb conservation was in 2013. The final project of my Local History course is on remembrance and commemoration – the To Do list not contains questions:
As ever, some knowledge leads to more questions.
 During the past day, I have seen images of the statue of Winston Churchill in London’s Parliament Square boarded up to protect it ahead of a planned protest. It reminded me of a different statue in Co. Limerick. A few weeks back, I spotted similar protection was offered to the statue of the Sacred Heart at Croom Hospital to avoid damage….
….. from building activities. Can You Show Me 2 Metres? Cork Metres?  Tuckey St - 2020.06.11 As part of the marketing campaign for the change from Imperial to Metric measurement systems, there was television advert with a message that went down in memory – Can You Show Me A Metre. Among those of a certain vintage, it is still dropped into conversation on occasion. Cork City Council have re-invented the slogan, but with a twist, availing of some shrinkflation. This yellow sign is on a traffic barrier at junction of Tuckey Street and Grand Parade. The two metres is actually just over 1.2m Is there such a thing as a Cork metre?  This piece of sculpture was in place for 10 years before I realised it existed – unfortunately the time I had to enjoy it was very limited.  2018.08.19 In May 2016, Micko told of his encounter walking the dog one evening. Coming up the quays by Penrose House, and approaching the bridge, he heard someone talking but there was no one nearby. Some investigation revealed that the four stainless steel structures were responsible for the sound of voices – only two of them actually.
Today I spotted a retweet from the Crawford Art Gallery that reminded me of the chat, my subsequent visits to the Listening Posts, and my promise to self to write a short blog on art installations not just being for the unveiling ceremony and plaque unveiling – some art needs some maintenance, a little love and affection. A few days after the chat with Micko, I went down to Penrose Quay. Two of the pieces were damaged and being used as litter receptacles. The other two were broadcasting lists relating to exports and passengers from the Port of Cork. I stopped and listened for a while – some nice chill out time. After this, I went a bit out of my way a few times to hear the messages – but then they were gone. |
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