Castle Avenue in Monkstown was the road not travelled before. And there it was.
It has prompted me to put a webpage together of those that I have encountered and recorded - HERE
Using signs, advertisements and messages as the inspiration for observation and comment - enlightened and otherwise
Last Sunday, once again, I received the lesson that one is very unlikely to record all of a particular thing – there always is the rick that one exists somewhere I just have not been before. This time is was the E.S.B. Lightning logo.
Castle Avenue in Monkstown was the road not travelled before. And there it was. It has prompted me to put a webpage together of those that I have encountered and recorded - HERE
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Our conversational Irish walk was a bit puzzled yesterday. Our monthly siúlóid took us through Monkstown Demense. As we we exiting the estate before heading back down Glen Road to the village, we tried, and failed to figure out the meaning of the words carved into the archways on either side of the road. LÁMH FOIS TENACHABÚThe archways facing the road read Monkstown Demense so it was not a translation. Lámh Fois Tenachabú had us stumped – not too difficult for my level of Gaeilge but it had all of us beaten. Jerry did think it may have something to do with the motto for the estate – top marks. Learning can be difficult enough – even relearning. But it definitely does not helped when the mason or letter carver sets out not to make things easy. The number of stones in the arch mean that these two options would have been equally easy to cut:
The latter option may well have been read as Lámh Foistenach Abú which translates as The Steady Hand To Victory. If there was an O’Sullivan among the group, we may have had greater success in interpreting as it is the motto of the O’Sullivan’s. LÁMH FOISTENACH ABÚIt is a long time since I even thought of the headwear of the Catholic clergy. I do recall the Canon in the local parish church regularly wearing a hat that the other priests did not wear – a black Biretta if memory has not faded too much. The Eucharistic Procession would also show that the bishop wore a mitre. What I did not realise until a couple of weeks ago is that there were/are quite a number of different types – and I did not see real hats, paintings or photographs to realise this, just picture frames. I was deliberately early for a meeting which allowed me to stop in Maynooth and look for the Seamus Murphy statue of St Patrick. The directions I received were spot on and there he was inside the main door of the enclosed quad – once again a piece calling out to be touched. It was only when I had touched and photographed St Patrick did I realise the paintings along the corridor. Then I spotted the hats incorporated into the top of the frame. And then, that not all of the hats were the same. The corridor gallery brought me back to the Capuchin Cemetery in Rochestown, Co. Cork where I went looking for the Celtic Cross headstones made by Seamus Murphy for Fr. Albert and Fr. Dominic whose bodies were repatriated in 1958 – 23 years after the death of Fr Dominic who was chaplain to both Cork Lord Mayors who died in 1920, Tomás MacCurtin and Terence MacSwiney. But there was no sign of a Celtic Cross. The graves of Fr Dominic and Fr Albert were marked with a cross – a simple cross just like all of the others in the cemetery. A friend did ask a member of the Capuchin community in Rochestown who recalled that some years ago, a Provincial decided that all priests and brothers were equal and should be recognised as equal. The location of the Celtic Crosses removed to make way for the uniform simple cross memorials remains unknown. The principle of all being equal in death did not extend to the African Missions Cemetery in Wilton in Cork. It appears to have been introduced in Maynooth but not retrospectively – the newer paintings appearing to have no adornment on the picture frame. I foresee that I will be in a rabbit hole in the future trying to understand the different hat syles and meanings……
40 Shades of Green Taking my morning coffee and croissant earlier today, I wondered as to the post box across the road at St Luke’s Cross. It was definitely not the normal shade of green for postboxes – Emerald Green. This evening, I returned to photograph and suspect that the brighter green is an undercoat as the demarcation between the green and black is far from sharp.
I suspect that same excuse does not apply to the wall box at Mitchel St in Clonmel, Co. Tipperary. The box is still open for use but is painted camouflage grey – possibly to fool the tourists….. This morning, I started filing away some of my photographs, a long overdue task. I got as far back as late July and this roadside Calvary cross on the Buttevant to Kildorrery road (R532). The filing of the photographs stopped as the vague recollections stirred. I was correct in thinking that I had another in the Grotto folder named Wallstown. Only when comparing the two did other coincidences come forth: The majority of roadside grottos or religious statues are to the Blessed Virgin Mary. Calvary crosses are not nearly as common. When I eventually get around to populating the full database, I will be able to give the percentage but suspect it will be in low single digits. 1954 was a Marian Year as is regularly noted on the roadside shrines. 1932 is not as common – another for the database recording. When plotting the crosses on the map, they are not very far apart. They both mention Julia M. Crowley and 1932. She erected, or caused erected, the Calvary Cross on the N73. She died on 27th September and the Calvary Cross on the R532 was erected in her memory – interestingly, this one has statues of three others praying and remembering, whereas the earlier one does not. Julia M. Crowley of Wallstown Castle has gone onto the To Find Out More list……
A few weeks back, I learnt from Eoin’s tweet that his uncle’s butchers stall in The English Market was to close. I spotted the closed stall today and it confirmed once again that not all progress is good. Stealing some me-time on our holidays, which started with lovely steaks from McCarthy’s of Kanturk, I did receive the task to get some chops for the dinner. I walked the main shopping streets in Tralee but could I see a butchers – not one. This is not surprising as in Cork, outside of the English market, there is only one butchers shop trading in the city centre. Calling to the workplace of a friend, I received directions to a small butchers shop on the North Circular Road – Waddings. The only regret with the chops purchased was that I didn’t buy enough. That morning, I got chatting with the two butchers on duty and explained that I did not want a prepacked meat. I wanted meat that was recently carved and open to view on all sides. I learned that, similar to Cork, the number of butchers shops had significantly reduced – trade lost to the supermarkets. A few years back, walking on the slopes of Baurtegaum on the Dingle peninsula and meeting a sheep farmer, he told of times past when his family would have had animals ready for killing, a message was sent to the butcher who would collect the animal, cut and sell in their shop. Regulation has done away with many of the butcher/abattoirs but that morning I learned that Waddings believed that they were the only butchers shop in Tralee still buying full beef carcass and doing the butchery themselves – many others buying the joints and cutting them in the shop. Local shops and newsagents have significantly reduced from when I was younger. I don’t think there is a tobacconist in Cork and only a couple of cobblers. Post Offices are closing. Recently, a chat with a few friends revealed that the many different insurance and life assurance brokers that we all used had all been taken over and subsumed into larger entities and contact is now with a call-centre-type set-up; personal contact and connection is gone. Last year, an article in the Irish Times reported that ‘ It is one of Ireland’s great culinary treasures to have such a wealth of independent meat shops. And apparently it is a treasure that a new generation of shoppers is rediscovering.’ I do hope that the article spoke the truth. We do enjoy the fare from O’Mahony’s of the English Market but I do fear the future of mass produced sameness and blandness driven by the supermarkets, the mass producers and the regulators. I do hope we take a turn on the road to the Brave New World……………… P.S. Bresnan’s is likely to be the end of reference in Cork to Victualler???
Trawling through Twitter this morning, I spotted a tweet from Survivors Unite at Last in which she included a copy of her mothers’s birth certificate. This cert records the profession of her maternal grandfather as a Tinsmith. Very many trades are dwindling in numbers or disappearing completely. Tinsmith is definitely in that category. Automation and machinery has had its impact, so too has plastic.
The tweet reminded me of my journey west in early July. Just over Two-Mile Bridge on the Macroom side at Coolcower, the civil engineering works were well advanced for the construction of the Macroom- bypass. But just as one cannot make an omelette without cracking eggs, serious muck-shifting cannot be done without some disturbance. I stopped early that morning to record that another reference to Tinsmith had been cast aside to the memory banks. Many, but not all, memorials (and grottos) have been relocated and repositioned after roadworks. Only time will tell if the memorial to Tinsmith Danny Hourigan is to be reinstated. UPDATE 2022.03.08Last Saturday, March 4th, saw me on the road to Baile Mhuirne. It was my first time travelling on the Macroom by-pass, the bit that is open at least.
Was good to see that the memorial to Danny Hourigan has been reinstated A few months back, I attended a very enjoyable talk at Collins Barracks in Cork by Prof. Tim Hoyt as part of The Irish Civil War National Conference held by U.C.C. . Collins Barracks was known as Victoria Barracks at the time of the handover, one hundred years ago. It was subsequently named after Michael Collins and retains that name to today. Gerry White’s talk at the conference on the handover is available online, 48:20 minutes in. I learnt during the conference that when the British Army handed over the barracks, one of the last things that they did was to cut down the flagpole – seemingly this is always done when a stronghold is being vacated, ‘a long British Army tradition’. Leaving the Officers’ Mess after the talk, I smiled that not all signs of things English had been removed. Looking down, I noted that the manhole cover was manufactured by Ham, Baker & Co of Westminster. It remains, most probably ignored by the majority who pass by, on the southern side of the Main Square. A few weeks ago, I was driving through Baile Mhic Íre and spotted scaffolding and netting around the remains of a tree outside the school.
I have long been an admirer of chainsaw art on trees, so had to stop and record the work in progress. Looking forward to seeing the completed installation ![]() I did a talk a few months back on the IHS tiles that are on buildings around the country. A friend suggested that the practice may be Mediterranean in origin and I did find a couple on tiles on streetview in Capranica. Seven years ago, I blogged about ceramic tiles on The Brown Pub in Kealkil – but since then, very little similar. A few weeks back, Kanturk provided two mosaics – one to Our Lady of Fatima, the other well beyond my Spanish, or maybe Portuguese, knowledge. If anyone knows of any more, would be delighted to learn of them. Is it a simple error? In St. Joseph’s Cemetery in Ballyphehane (The Botanics), there are six headstones over four separate graves to The Ladies of St Mary’s Good Shepherd Convent in Sundays Well, from 1875 to 1981. 211 names are listed on these headstones. Molly Ryan died on 14th November 1939 but she is listed on two separate headstones over two different grave plots. It could be a simple administrative error and there ought to be 210 names. However, the benefit of any doubt has drifted away from Mother and Baby Homes such as the Good Shepherd. If there are 211 bodies, one lady is now forgotten in death – even more so than she was in life. I write this at early o’clock, just after returning home from dropping our fifteen-year-old at a swimming pool. As part of a fund-raising drive, the club members are swimming the distance from Cork to Dublin and back – all within the confines of a 25m pool.
The group that entered the pool at 04:30 are scheduled to complete the return to Cork at 07:00 but if stuck at the toll plaza at Watergrasshill, it may go on a bit longer. Printing off the sponsorship card earlier this week, and also in conversations with others, I did wonder as to whether, at this time, it is appropriate to be fundraising for anything but Ukraine …………………………. A while back, I mentioned the carved correction on the headstone in Crosshaven. I have spotted some more corrections – so have put them together. Even with people living longer in current times, it is not very common to read of people reaching 100 years of age. In the last year or so, I have encountered the graves of a few centurions. Reaching 100 years is remarkable in itself but to do so in 1868, 1853 or even 1762 would, I expect, have been not very common at all. |
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