This blog is a personal take on Listowel, Co. Kerry. I am writing for anyone anywhere with a Listowel connection but especially for sons and daughters of Listowel who find themselves far from home. Contact me at listowelconnection@gmail.com

Category: Greenway

Lá sa Phortach

At The Greenway in Cahirdown

with a Listowel connection

Niamh (Kenny) Lordan and her husband, Ted, were each finalists in the best dressed competitions at Killarney Races.

A Day in The Bog

Remember this lovely bog picture

Well, the bog isn’t all fun and games.

Mick O’Callaghan remembers childhood days harvesting fuel for the winter;

My Memory of Days in the Bog.

The days in the bog were part of my life growing up in Kerry. When the year turned the corner of St Paddy’s Day turf appeared quite often in the lexicon of many a house. My father would take down the hay knife and sharpen it, likewise with the slean [slawn, turf cutting spade). When we heard the question ‘when is Good Friday this year’, we knew turf was in the air.

We rose early on Good Friday morning to clean the top rough sod off the turf bank to be ready for cutting on Easter Monday. We marked about a yard wide down the length of the raised turf bank and started the marking the surface sod with the hay knife and sliced if off with the wide spade. Then we ensured all drains were clear so that there would be no excess water around the turf bank on cutting day. This work had to be finished by noon because we had to attend the stations of the cross at three o clock in the afternoon.

Our bog was located in Gleann Scoithin, and we passed Queen Scotia’s grave on the way up.  Queen Scotia was reputed to have been a daughter of an Egyptian Pharaoh. She was Queen of the Celtic Milesians who defeated the Tuatha De Danann.  On top of the hill in Scotia’s Glen there lived a family of sheepmen. Tom told me stories about Queen Scotia and her sexual exploits around the valley. I never knew whether he was telling me the truth or not. I did take notice when he told me to “stick to the books garsún” and avoid the hard work of turf. When we passed their house in the morning on the way to the bog, Tom was out shaving. He used a white enamel pan with some hot water brought out from the saucepan on the range, a bit of glass stuck in the ditch served as a mirror. He made a good lather with some carbolic soap and shaved away quite happily, totally oblivious to the curious gaping of passers-by at this bare topped mountain man. He just continued with the greeting “Welcome to Glean Scóithín, Are ye right for pikes and sleans lads? Ye know where they are”. He continued shaving.

Easter Monday, which was cutting day, weather permitting, was fast approaching. There was always great preparation the night before. We had a cutter and another man for pitching the sods. We had to provide all the food. The big chunk of ham, two loaves of Barry’s white bread, the pound of Lee Strand Creamery butter, hard boiled eggs, a packet of Galtee cheese, some of my mother’s homemade currant bread and Marietta biscuits were packed as well as the loose tea, milk, mustard, a few knives and spoons and we were ready for our bog day. Our man on the slean was Micky Quirke and he would be in the bog around 6.45am to start the cutting and marking out the size of area needed to spread the turf out for drying. Con Sugrue took the sods and tossed them out to my father who piked them on to me for spreading in serried rows ready for footing and drying.

As the youngest of the team, I was the designated tea boy. My first job was to get sufficient cipíní and dryish turf to start a fire. Next the old, blackened kettle was produced, and I was despatched to go to the well for water. When the water was procured it was boiled on the fire and several spoons of tea were spooned into the kettle. It was always great strong tea. Then the cuisine a la Mick started. The pan loaf and butter were opened. Generous chunks of ham were piled up on well- buttered bread with a slice of cheese on top of that, topped off with a dollop of Coleman’s mustard. This was fine al fresco dining at its best. The boiled eggs were eaten from the hand. Then we had a few Marietta biscuits liberally coated with butter followed by a slice of my mother’s homemade currant bread, all washed down with bog water strong tasting tea. 

Being fully nourished and fortified it was back to the business of cutting turf while the garsún tidied up. I had to keep any tea left in the kettle and pour it into a couple of bottles with added milk. I carefully rolled up the paper corks and stuck  them into the bottles. There was nothing better than cold boggy tea, corked with the sloppy paper corks, for the four-o clock snack with the currant bread.

These  bottles were wrapped in socks for the evening, for what reason I will never know.

As the cutting progressed, we got deeper into the bog and the quality of the turf improved with each sod being as black as coal. This was the real deal as regards quality turf. It was much harder work, tossing it out from a lower position and every muscle was strained. We worked a full 10-hour day and at the end we exchanged pleasantries with the Browns and the Morans who were cutting adjoining banks of turf. We bid farewell to the bog and arrived home tired and weary. 

Now we had to wait and hope the weather kept fine till we lifted the turf for footing to let the wind blow through. This was a painstaking, back breaking exercise. You had to bend down to pick up every sod of turf and make the base tripod of sods and keep them standing. We were lucky most years with this laborious crop and got the reek made early enough in summer. All turf had to be home in the yard before Tralee Races and The Rose of Tralee annual festival  at the end of August. Bringing home the turf was a great occasion. We would get two big lorries of turf clamped up high by our driver. When it was home in the yard it was stacked away in sheds ready to keep the home fires burning for another winter. Neighbours came to inspect the turf and help with putting it into the shed. There was always a neighbourhood meitheal to help with jobs like this, a tremendous spirit of co-operation and genuine spirit of love thy neighbour.

There was many a joke and comment passed about the quality of the turf, but it was all good, humoured banter. The winter fuel was now secure for another winter.

A Staycation

Molly is happy out exploring Listowel. I haven’t shown her any of the photos of her forever family sunning themselves in the Algarve.

What the eye doesn’t see, the heart doesn’t grieve over.

A Definition

from The Devil’s Dictionary

by Ambrose Bierce

congratulation, n. the civility of envy

A Fact

There are more left handed people with IQs over 140 than right handed people.

Experiencing The Greenway

in Listowel Town Square

My Visitors on The Greenway

Photos: Carine Schweitzer

Bobby Cogan

These roadside rapid repair stands were a feature Bobby and Carine had not encountered before. A great idea.

Lovely to be out in the thick of unspoilt Nature

Carine and Bobby love the outdoors, walking, hiking or cycling. These lovely pitstops were a welcome respite.

Irish Travellers in the Old Days

This photograph from The National Gallery’s collection was taken by a famous travel photographer, Inge Morath.

In the photograph is a Traveller family, in a convoy of barrel top caravans on their way to Puck Fair in Killorglin in 1954.

The following essay is taken from a website called Tinteán

The article was written in 2021.

By Frank O’Shea.

In Ireland today there are about 30 000 people referred to as Travellers. Just over two years ago, the Irish parliament recognised Travellers as a distinct ethnic group within the Irish population. This was a hugely significant decision for Irish people who always regarded ourselves as homogeneous. It was also of course significant for the Travellers, because it went a long way to restoring their self esteem and pride in their heritage. Interestingly, the decision does not create new rights and has no implications for public expenditure.

So who are these people we call Travellers? They used to live mostly in caravans or mobile homes in which they travelled all over the country or into England. They have Irish surnames – Ward, Connors, Carty, O’Brien, Cash, Coffey, Furey, MacDonagh, Mohan. In recent times, some have moved into the settled community; the town of Rathkeale in Co Limerick, population about 2000, has about 45% Travellers.

en.wikipedia.org 

That the Travellers are a distinct ethnic sub-group within Ireland has been recognised as a result of recent research. To summarise that research:

  • The Travellers are not part of the Indo-European Romani groups found in Europe and the Americas.
  • Genetic studies have shown that
    • The Travellers are genetically Irish
    • There are subgroups within them
    • There is a suggestion of strong origins from the midland counties
  • It used to be thought that the Travellers owed their origins to the Irish Famine or to the Huguenots who came to Ireland from persecution in France and were able to buy out small farms, but the new studies suggest that they go back much farther, as much as 1000 years.
  • The most reliable evidence shows that this distinctiveness from the local Irish population goes back between eight and 14 generations. Taking 11 generations as a reasonable median, this has given a possible origin as following the Cromwellian era.
  • Another set of researches has shown that a particular allele (a variation of a gene) is found in 100% of Travellers, but in only 89% of the settled Irish population. This may be due to the long tradition of intermarriage within the community, but could also be interpreted as a sign of a possible ‘Abraham’ of all Travellers.

There is a unique Traveller language, variously known as Cant or Shelta or Gammon. This is quite distinct and has echoes in their spoken English. It contains words from Italian and Latin but its vocabulary is mainly Irish, sometimes in a clever anagram. For instance in Gammon the word for whiskey is scaihaab = scai + haab = anagramatically isca baha = phonetically uisce beatha, the Irish for whiskey. Likewise, the Shelta word for door is sarod, which is the Irish word doras backwards. For the Irish Travellers, Shelta or Gammon is usually regarded as a kind of code used deliberately to maintain privacy from settled people.

As well as their own language, travellers have a kind of semaphore for communication. For example, the rags which they leave attached to bushes when they move from a particular halting-place are significant. Red and white rags indicate that it was a good place; black or dark-coloured cloths tell of sickness or trouble with locals. In their folklore, as in that of many gypsies, the colour red has an important part to play as a protection against the Evil Eye.

In the middle of the last century Bryan MacMahon, the Listowel playwright and novelist, became friendly with the Travellers, learning their language and moving easily among them. He has written extensively about them, both as fact and in fiction. 

One paper which MacMahon wrote for the American Museum of Natural History attracted great attention. He received dozens of requests for transcripts of the article and for further information. Most of these requests were from university research schools, but some were from organisations with military or secret service connections. Intrigued by this, MacMahon enquired why his work should create such interest. He was told that in modelling the behaviour of people in a post-holocaust situation, useful guides were provided by marginal tribes like the Lapps, the Inuit or the Irish Travellers. All have survived harsh social and climatic treatment and have learnt to adapt to the most inhospitable of conditions. 

There can be great poverty among Travellers, especially those who move into the big urban areas. In campsites on the fringe of Dublin, conditions are primitive and unhygienic. Yet most caravans have a television and many have a satellite dish.

I now refer to my understanding of the Travellers from my growing up in Ireland. In the first place, we called them tinkers, a term that was not used pejoratively: this was a time when, if your kettle or cooking pot had a hole in it, you did not throw it out, you had it mended and if you were lucky, the tinkers were in the locality and they did it perfectly. They were tinsmiths and if we called them tinkers, we were not aware of any offence. It is possible also that the word is a version of tinklers, people who do lots of small jobs.

They would come to our part of Kerry for patterns and fairs or simply on a wide tour which covered our area at about the same time each year. Sometimes the children would come to school for a few weeks and we were always told to treat them with respect and kindness. There were occasional all-in fights between families but never with locals. Farmers might get angry about piebald horses grazing in their fields, while their wives became more alert in counting their chickens but in general there was a Christian tolerance for these people, ‘God’s gentry.’ 

Sometimes they would sell holy pictures or little statues and we would buy one or two. They were then and still are, strongly Catholic in their beliefs and practices. They had a strong moral code: teenage sex was a particular concern and it was common for girls to marry at 16-17 and men 18 or 19. They did not marry outside their own people, and marriages between first or second cousins were not unusual. 

When they were in the area, their women might come to our back door and ask my mother for a jug of milk or a cup of sugar, which would be given without hesitation. Sigerson Clifford, the Cahirciveen poet writes fondly of them. Many of the poems in his Ballads of a Bogman are devoted to them and to stories about them, always told with respect and great affection.

The tree-tied house of planter
Is colder than east wind.
The halldoor of the gombeen
Has no welcome for our kind.

The homestead of the grabber
Is hungry as a stone;
But the little homes of Kerry
Will give us half their own.

From The Ballad of the Tinker's Wife.

A Fact

James Naismith, a Canadian, invented basketball in Massachusetts in 1891. It was 21 years before it occurred to anyone to cut a hole in the bottom of the basket

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What’s in a Name?

Listowel Pitch and Putt Course

An Oldie and a Goodie

Carol Broderick shared this newspaper photo of some Listowel greats.

Names

I remember when I encountered names in book which I had never met in reality, I just made up my own pronunciation of them. We dont have to do that now as there are so many aids to help us pronounce unfamiliar names correctly.

You don’t want to hear how I used to mangle Yvonne and Penelope.

Here is the first half of Sean Carlson’s essay on the subject of Irish names in The Boston Globe

“What word has the biggest disconnect between spelling and pronunciation?”

The Merriam-Webster account on X, known for snappier and snarkier posts than are usually associated with dictionary publishers, recently managed to provoke some ire from the Irish by answering its own question with “Asking for our friend, Siobhan.”

Ah, Siobhán, a feminine equivalent of my own name, Seán. In the case of Siobhán (pronounced shiv-AWN), the obvious failure with the attempted zinger is that the name is conspicuously absent from Merriam-Webster’s online dictionary, since it is a proper name in the Irish language, not English.

Evan O’Connell, communications director for the French nonprofit Paris Peace Forum, countered Merriam-Webster with a volley of English surnames: “You had Featherstonehaugh, Cholmondeley and Gloucestershire right there.”

Caoilfhionn Gallagher, a lawyer with the Irish Human Rights and Equality Commission, posted, “Once more for the people at the back: Irish names *are* pronounced the way that they are spelled. In *Irish.*”

Siobhán O’Grady, the chief Ukraine correspondent for The Washington Post, agreed, pointing out that the accent mark known as a “fada” is used to elongate the “a,” in Siobhán (and in Seán, for that matter).

To be fair, most Americans are unfamiliar with the nuances of the Irish language. “Cillian Murphy pronunciation” is a top search request, and “Cillian Murphy speaking Irish” isn’t too far behind. In 2016, Stephen Colbert welcomed Saorise Ronan to the “Late Show” and held up flash cards of Irish first names — Tadhg, Niamh, Oisin, and Caoimhe — for her to read aloud. When they came to Siobhán, Colbert laughinglycalled it “ridiculous.”….

Greenway Milestones

These signs have appeared to help those going or coming on The Greenway.

Proof Reading

Reggie helping Bobby to check if I got his good side.

A Definition

from The Devil’s Dictionary by Ambrose Bierce

Appeal; In law, to put the dice back into the box for another throw.

A Fact

The world’s oldest creature, a mollusc, was 507 years old when scientists killed it by accident.

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Big Developments planned for Listowel

Con Dillons in July 2023

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Big Changes Planned

According to a story in Kerry’s Eye, Listowel is due a windfall of €900,00 to bring “three transformational projects” to planning stage by 2024.

  1. The re-establishment of Listowel Town Square as the cultural heart and economic centre of Listowel.
  2. Positioning of Listowel as a hub of activity tourism in North Kerry
  3. Establishment of a state of the art enterprise centre space for remote working.

“The Public Realm Plan also aims to enable Listowel Town to transition to a competitive, low carbon, climate -resilient and environmentally sustainable economy.” John Kennelly, Listowel Town Manager.

Three more concrete parts of the plan are

Development of the Neodata site as an outdoor activity hub

Turn the Ball Alley into an outdoor performance space. (This is not part of the plan but I think that maybe when no one is performing there it could be used to revive handball)

Reimagining Kerry Writers’ Museum

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Bike Stands

Especially for the folk coming into town via our new greenway, but for local cyclists as well, bike stands are popping up all over.

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Memories, Memories

Eleanor Belcher’s story continues…

There were  several families in the Small Square who were part of our ‘gang’ . Gertie Kennelly and I started school together. She cried so much that she was brought home for another year. Her father used to stand outside the shop  and tell me  on my way home from school that all my father had to do was  to say ‘put out your tongue ‘ and ask for £1.  

There were the Sheehy boys across the road who were very much part of our childhood. Jerry was the comic lover. The Galvins, Mercedes and Monty were at the Central Hotel with its ‘Erin go Bragh’  plaster relief. They had two older half brothers who lived in the USA and came home occasionally bringing amazing gifts for Merc and Monty. There was an icecream machine in Galvins and getting a cone from there was a huge treat. 

There were not many cars , Mr Galvin had one similar to Mr McElligott.  The road ran on the opposite side of St John’s church then. We played outside all the time, ball games and ‘picky’ and hopscotch on the footpath.  . Rollerskating became very popular as we got to about seven/ eight and on halfday Mondays we had races along the main road. Maura Fealey was the star.! A picture of us rollerskaters appeared in the Kerryman and was used to illustrate a Kerryman book of photographs to capture the 60s which was published some years ago. 

(Thank you, Dave O’Sullivan for finding the photo. And he found the other one referred to in the caption as well.)

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A Familiar Face in a Familiar Place

I ran into Kay Landy in The St. Vincent de Paul shop on Saturday July 22 2023. Kay was a stalwart of that shop and of the local Vincent de Paul society for years. It was lovely to see her looking so well. She was accompanied on Saturday by her daughter, Breda.

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A Fact

Greg Norman won the British Open Golf Championship at Tunberry in 1986.

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Greenways and Waterways

Greenway Mural at the old Neodata site, May 2023

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Progress on the Greenway

This is the Bridge Road entrance

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Another Prestigious Prize for a journalist with a Listowel Connection

This is Malachy’s father, David Browne’s Facebook post

“Proud and privileged to witness the announcement of the Pulitzer Prize Award to my son Malachy last Monday in the New York Times offices. His team were acknowledged for their unflinching coverage of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, including an eight-month investigation into Ukrainian deaths in the town of Bucha and the Russian unit responsible for the killings.’

Malachy Browne with Donnie O’Sullivan at Listowel Writers’ Week 2022

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A Settle Bed

This is a picture of an old farmhouse from Floklore.ie. On the left of the picture is what was known as a settle bed. The bedclothes were stored underneath the seat and brought out when the bed was dressed for someone for the night. This was a fine cozy bed beside the fire and often used by visitors or travelling workmen.

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Listowel’s Newest Amenity

“My heart, tonight, is home again in Ireland

Upon thy banks, my silver river Feale.”

Bryan MacMahon’s words were sung to us by his son, Owen, at the launch of Listowel Kayaking Club on May 14 2023.

The sun shone. The water was resplendent. The birds sang. A small crowd gathered (small, for health and safety reasons) and Jimmy Deenihan presented us with his latest project, a kayaking club. Jimmy and friends have brought this to fruition in jig time.

Jimmy Deenihan

I was delighted to meet this group of my former pupils, all involved in this healthy outdoor activity. Lovely to see these young ladies emerging as leaders in their community.

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A Welcome Treat

On my way to town on Friday, I met these lovely young people at the gate of their school, Coláiste na Ríochta. They were inviting me to their Bake Sale in aid of Áras Mhuire.

I took up their invitation and a lovely young man accompanied me to the classroom where selling, eating and chatting was in full swing.

I even met someone I knew. I bought some cakes . They were delicious.

Well done enterprising seniors in Coláiste na Ríochta.

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A Coronation Tale

Did we ever think we would see Kay Caball, cousin of Canon Declan, renouned historian and genealogist and a pillar of respectability feature in The Irish Daily Mail?

Don’t panic. Kay was merely telling the tale and it all happened in the eighteenth century.

This is the coronation connection. Lady Fiona Petty Fitzmaurice is Queen Camilla’s best buddy.

The Fitzmaurice connection: Fiona’s husband. is one of the once Lixnaw based Fitzmaurices who used to own most of Kerry.

“After a gatherer comes a scatterer” they say and the Fitzmaurices had the father of all scatterers. Kay told the story replete with “Petticoats up and pantaloons down” to a journalist from The Daily Mail and below is a photo of the centre page in the paper on Saturday.

If you missed the paper, Kay will tell it all again on Jimmy Deenihan’s walking tour at Listowel Writers Week on Friday June 2 starting from Kerry Writers’ Museum at 10.00 a.m.

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I told you so

In 2018 I posted this picture on here. It is cyclist Dillon Corkery being greeted by his grandparents at the stage finish of the Rás in Market Street.

Pic : Lorraine O’Sullivan

Yesterday Dillon won Rás Tailteann outright as part of Team Ireland. I told you he was destined for great things. My exact words were ” Is Dillon the next Sam Bennett?”

The Listowel Connection?

I went to school in Kanturk with his grandmother and still count her as a friend today. I’m over the moon!

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A Fact

The word NEWS comes from the fact that stories were gathered from all corners of the world. News is actually an acronym North East West South.

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