“Bhí fuinneamh sa stoirm a d’éalaigh aréir

Aréir Oiche Nollaig na mBan….

Today is the last day of the Christmas season and Seán O’Riordáin’s poem about  a stormy Little Christmas seems apt for today.

It’s not exactly 1839…the night of The Big Wind but we have had some stormy weather lately.

Salthill  by Margaret O’Sullivan

Waterville by Darragh Courtney

Rossbeigh by Valerie O’Sullivan

Ballybunion by Mike Enright.

Ballybunion Main Beach, Friday January 3 2014        (photo by Francis Bennett)


Tralee Fire and Rescue at the scene of a chimney fire in Church Street on Jan 2 2014


The January Horsefair attracted a good crowd on Thursday last, January 2 2014. Here are a few shots from Market Street on the day.


I’m wrong again on this one. It’s not Norella or Eoin it’s Paudie Moriarty with the lovely curly head of hair. The musician is Timmy Brosnan and Mick Regan, who had a pub on William Street near John B.’s, has been positively identified by his granddaughter who follows the blog from faraway.


Photo by Jim MacSweeney: Poem by Dick Carmody



            …….companion for a reluctant gardener.

I kneel to tend my garden, derived of some pride, devoid of great pleasure

I toil to keep apace of mother nature, as weeds compete with work rate

I am suddenly less aware on my ownliness, a companion ever present at my side

Robin makes his predictable welcome appearance to distract from my discomfort.

he sits proud upon the boundary wall to watch my laboured movement

pride in that he fanned the fire in Bethlehem’s stable to keep the Baby warm

how the flames had burned his then colourless breast to testify his zealousness

was it when he pulled the thorn from Jesus’ brow on his way to cross on Calvary

now carries his blood-stained feathers as if to show his favoured ranking.

arms length he follows my every move, often playing hide and seek with me

tall or sometimes with head erect, motionless he stares me eye to eye

could believe him God-sent, no other bird in sight in hedgerow or on leafless

is it just that he sees me as his meal-ticket, as I gather and discard the
fallen leaves

tasty morsels in the unfrozen ground to help him cope with winter’s worst.

move along, hunched on bended knee, he follows cautiously close behind, beside

out of sight, I seek him out again and know I will not be disappointed

sure enough he’s back again here, there and everywhere, not taken for granted

gardening is less of a chore as I’m gifted a companion, my new forever friend.

Dick Carmody                                                                                November,


A few photos from Aladdin on Saturday last

section of audience

Evaun McElligott


Frances and Catherine