Another blog post inspired by the builders’ vans on Prince’s Street a few months back.
The attachment to the rear bumper caused a smile as I walked past.
It demanded a few minutes of escapism when filing away my photographs now.
A smile came upon my face driving through Ballyphehane a while back.
I really like the house number sign.
It brought me back many years to when it was a treat to be allowed go with my grandfather to the Bingo at The Barrs. Grandad was one of the callers, so I was given a few cards and allowed play. Keys of the Door and Two Fat Ladies were first imprinted on my mind in the hall of St Finbarr’s Hurling & Football Club on a Friday night before we got the special Bingo bus home.
The whistles that accompanied Legs Eleven made it even more impressive, more deserving of questions seeking explanation over milk and biscuits when safely back in St. Brigid’s St on a Friday night.
I don’t know how long the number sign has been on the house but it brought me back decades.
A tweet this morning from Stan Carey on the matter of eggcorns prompted a return to the blog. Samples of eggcorns that he cites include ‘hare’s breath’ and ‘mute point’. His full blog article can be enjoyed HERE.
I spotted this sign on Opera Lane earlier and was wondering if marketing had yielded to an openness that primarily considered the customers' money extracting potential – but may be it is an eggcorn.
Or maybe both.
Following on yesterday blog about Breda O’Connell who died when struck by a car and whose headstone includes the words ‘Killed In Athlunkard St.’, I spent some time searching.
The internet revealed that Patrick Manifold of Anne Street, Limerick was in a motor accident on the way to Shannon Airport on 2nd June, just eight weeks earlier, but this was not mentioned in reports on the inquest. The Cork Examiner of 6 August reported on the case at Ennis District Court where Patrick Manifold of the same address was on trial for dangerous driving, where he was fined £3.
‘Kill’ is not a word that I have often seen on a headstone. A word like that does prompt the inquisitiveness in me.
This headstone at Kilmurry, Limerick did intrigue. The internet, and Limerick City Library, provided some information that Breda O’Connell died after being struck by a motor car driven by Patrick William Manifold on Athlunkard Street, Limerick. The inquest believed that Mr Manifold was unfit to drive. Mr Manifold was returned for trial but my web searching will need to improve to try and find the outcome of that hearing.
Last week was the anniversary of the Betelgeuse disaster on Whiddy Island in Bantry Bay. There were a number of tweets reminding of the 51 who died in 1979. I remember that my mother wanted to drive down to Bantry and see what was being shown on the television. The young me thought that wish very odd. The current me is disappointed that she didn’t get there and bring us with her.
In 2018, I visited Bantry graveyard and was well impressed by the monument designed by a J. L. Fontaine, who does not appear on a web search.
I had not realised that two victims were unnamed.
Another from my visit to the cemetery at Aghada in East Cork. The headstone to Margaret Jones who died aged just 20, on this day 149 years ago did cause me to stop, ponder and leave with some thoughts and queries.
The engraving has stood up a lot better than others that I have seen.
What does 21st Co. R.E. mean? My best would might be 21st Company Royal Engineers.
The spacing of the engraver with regard to YEAᴿˢ.
The apparent expectation of remarrying – How Few Her Equal Shall I Find.
I suppose the world of any period is frail to any bereaved.
Over the past few weeks I have spotted a few small posters stuck up around the city. Many did not survive very long as if someone tried to take them down.
Twitter educated that some similar posters appeared in London.
Definitely are messages to stop and make one think.
The Crawford Gallery was a place of refuge – a place where I could sit with my own thoughts, trying to put things back in some sort of order. Since we moved office, my visits have not been as regular but I need to correct that. The first floor gallery houses many of my favourites including Time Flies.
In 2015, I was delighted when the Gallery put on an exhibition called W. B. Yeats: Resonances where they matched a piece of Yeats poetry with a painting – a combination of different art forms. My visits were longer.
I was reminded of the poem/art combination on a visit to the City Library earlier this week and there was poetry from Gerry Murphy with art on the walls – perfect for a lunchtime recharge.
I have been a Gerry fan since I read of the statue at Stalin visible in the distance from Knock for the first time over thirty years ago. His work has been quoted hereabouts on more than one or two occasions. I even followed the example of Poe-A-Tree and pinned one of his poems to a tree on Grand Parade one day – radical or what….
I met Gerry at the swimming pool recently. He mentioned that he is retiring, again, around now – Happy Birthday.
I would dearly love if his poems and the work of other Cork poets could adorn the gables of buildings, just like Leiden in The Netherlands . I have a folder of photographs on my drive of walls suitable for the receipt of poems. I even have my choice of some of the poems. But I expect that Cork street poetry will remain a dream.
For a bit of fun and relaxation, I recommend the installation at the library – John & Gerry. My list of wishes for a Christmas present has doubled.
This latest blog post from Eoin MacLochlainn hit the Inbox this morning. I was well impressed with his work on fireplaces in disused houses when showing in Limerick a few years back – if only funds had permitted.
In this morning’s read, the artist has donated a piece of work of Glencar Waterfall, associated with a poem to the Phlebotomy Dept. at St James Hospital – the waiting rooms that I have graced have never had such an art combination.
Three connecting dots are enough reason for a blog post after a bit of an absence.
I was delighted to receive the post this morning.
After a 4-year degree, a 1-year Diploma and over 30 years work experience in my chosen field, a journal has considered my writing to be worthy of publication – and it has absolutely nothing to do with my work life.
If only someone had mentioned filling out the C.A.O. way back then to do something that you enjoy; or even, to select something that will allow you to change as your preferences change. If. If. If……..
This article grew out of course work on an evening diploma at U.C.C., prompted by Marie-Annick, and steered to fruition by Ciarán - sometimes one can be very lucky with those they meet on this journey.
Very happy today.
Now to read and spot my typos……
The entrance may very well be concealed.
The spelling issue is not as difficult to spot.
Many thanks to PF who snapped this on Sundays Well Road and forwarded a few weeks back.
My recording of Roadside Memorials came in handy a few months back when I had to submit an essay for the Local & Regional Studies Course I am attending. The essay was about the uses of Roadsides and Waysides for burial and commemoration.
During a tea break during a lecture one evening, LH commented that she had spotted an unusual memorial on the road from Farranfore to Killarney. This was as good an excuse as any to travel a road different to normal on my trip to the Dingle Peninsula earlier this month.
LH was not wrong. I have not seen a memorial like it before. Beautiful. And appropriate.
Nearly four years after the death of Edward Duggan while cycling, the memorial is clean and very well maintained. It has fresh flowers and solar powered lights.
For many years now, I have been photographing and recording the many Roadside Memorials that I have seen around the country. They are substantially for victims of Road Traffic Collisions, but there are memorials for drownings, train crashes, and others.
The uploading of each of the memorials to the blog is a work in progress, as is the plotting of the memorials on Google Maps.
I am reasonably well used to seeing letters reversed.
There is a photograph in our kitchen of our then 5 year old in junior infants, having written and coloured a page with two of the three reversible letters in the name reversed (others being symmetrical). I have seen reversed letters in engravings on Old Youghal Road and Liscleary Cemetery.
Until my recent walkabout in Phibsboro, I do not think that I had seen an upside down letter – but I definitely have now.
I did not spot it immediately. Something just didn’t look right and it took a while to click.
On the other side of the building the ‘J’ is correctly aligned. Maybe it is to provoke thought or conversation among those stuck in traffic on the Phibsboro Road……
Or maybe not.
Blogs I Read & Links
Thought & Comment
For the Fainthearted
Bock The Robber
140 characters is usually enough
That’s How The Light Gets In
Tea and a Peach
Buildings & Things Past
Come Here To Me
Pilgrimage in Medieval Ireland
The Irish Aesthete
Ireland in History Day By Day
Buildings of Ireland
Irish War Memorials
The Standing Stone
Time Travel Ireland
Stair na hÉireann
Wide & Convenient Streets
The Irish Story
Our City, Our Town
West Cork History
Cork’s War of Independence
Cork Historical Records
Rebel Cork’s Fighting Story
40 Shades of Life in Cork