Listowel Connection

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

When is a Book Club not just a Book Club?

Evening in Ballybunion in June 2025

Summer Visitors

Bobby, Carine and Reggie out and about in Ballybunion

Reggie loves the beach

Cora gave me a good excuse to lunch in Lizzie’s.

The weather was a bit rainy so we made a jigsaw. Cora made most of it.

The Book Club

A post from someone who wished to start up a bookclub in Listowel got me thinking about how marvellous and varied an institution the book club is.

I’m a member of a library based book club in Ballincollig. I spend a lot of time in Ballincollig with my family and I thought a book club would be a good way to meet up with like minded people. I was right.

There are many advantages to this type of bookclub. We don’t choose the books so every month is a surprise and we get to sample books we may never have chosen to buy. There is no obligation to attend so if one of us is otherwise occupied we just go ahead anyway. We have a warm comfortable venue with tea and biscuits provided, no washing up and no tidying the house. What’s not to love?

Of course like most bookclubs I know, setting the world to rights in the chat after the book discussion is a vital part of every meeting.

My sister-in-law’s book club is very different. They were mostly friends or friends of friends already. They meet in one anothers’ houses. They cook a meal for each meeting and they each take a turn to choose a book. It is usually a book they have read and so are recommending to the others.

Then my daughter’s book club is a different kettle of fish altogether. They formed online and they meet every month in a local tapas bar. The chat and the socialising is more important than the book. That club is 10 years on the go this year so after a glass or two of wine one winter’s evening, one lady suggested they go to Spain for their tapas to mark their 10th anniversary.

Here they are in Bilbao, not a book in sight, enjoying their 36 hour getaway with their bookclub mates.

The Corpus Christi Procession

A few photos from this year’s procession on Saturday, June 21 2025

Turning into Courthouse Road

People I met at the Sunday Market in Scoil Realt na Maidine

These lovely people from just over the border in Newcastlewest have a lovely product, wax melts. I bought a lavendar one and my house smelled of old world charm for hours.

The boys from 3D & Me have a steady repeat business every week.

Bobby met a man he hadn’t met since schooldays. Tom and Bobby were in the same class and played on the same soccer team.

Karen’s River Crafts are absolutely beautiful. They are made locally using local fallen trees, pebbles, foliage and flowers.

I bought this one. I love it. I’ll be back for another one.

The market is a great place to meet and chat, have a cup of coffee or a baked potato. Bobby and Carine met their friends, Dulce and Sylvestre. Reggie and Rian were welcomed in the market as well.

A Fact

Marks and Spencers were the first to laser barcodes into fruit. This saves tonnes of paper and glue every year.

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A Church without a Steeple

A beautiful corner of Listowel Town Square

Listowel Bike with sidecar

This photo may have been taken in the town park. Any help with identifying the people in the photo or the year it was taken would be appreciated.

Sunday Market

The Sunday Market at Scoil Realt na Maidine is going from strength to strength. It operates every Sunday between 11.00 and 3.00. If you want fruit or vegetables, come early.

New Kingdom Bar in Church Street/ Sraid an Áthasaigh

“The Church without a Steeple”

The exceptional flat roofed Corpus Christi church in Knockanure is built on a hilltop site.

It is greatly to the credit of the local parishioners that they chose the pared back Michael Scott design. It is a masterpiece of architecture, ideally suited to this location.

John O’Sullivan, a local satirist, once wrote;

Knockanure both mane and poor,

A church without a steeple

And bitches and hoors looking out half doors

Criticising dacent people.

Nothing could be farther from the truth. Seems to me it was the poet who was criticising decent people.

No steeple but a beautiful belfry, in keeping with the unadorned style of the church.

A sign urging the faithful to return to the tradition of a day of rest on the sabbath.

R.I.P. Kevin McCarron

This is Listowel Pitch and Putt Club’s tribute to the late Kevin McCarron who passed away suddenly on June 21 2025.

His loss in his prime to his family and his club is immeasurable.

It is with the deepest sadness that we announce the passing of Kevin McCarron. Kevin was part of Listowel Pitch & Putt Club for over 40 years; initially as a brilliant juvenile player, and then as an adult where he held every committee position, and represented Listowel at the highest level of the game on the course for many years. His crowning glory came when he became Munster Senior Strokeplay Champion in 1993. The Championship was played in Ashgrove, Co. Waterford, and Kevin won a six-man playoff having finished -12 for 36 holes. At the time The Kerryman reported that Kevin “beat possibly the classiest field of players ever assembled for the Munster Championship”. Kevin also played International Pitch & Putt. Interestingly, this was not for Ireland, but England. While living and working in the UK, Kevin was selected to play for England. Playing against Ireland, Kevin was drawn to play against his fellow Kerryman, and good friend, Derry McCarthy. He had an enormous passion for the game, and was known to travel the length and breadth of the country to play Opens and Scratch Cups. As a result, he was known by all in Irish Pitch and Putt.

For many years he worked tirelessly on our course to help make it the course it is today. He had a massive appetite for work, and scarifying, seeding, and sanding greens, was no bother to him. He quietly went about his work, and had no problem working on the course for hours, so that the work would be complete. Only last Tuesday night did he return to work on the course after shooting a fine -4 in the second round of the Bob Casey Inter-Club competition in Castleisland. The feel he possessed in his talented hands meant that he was also a great man to cut greens. You would always know when Kevin cut the greens; they seemed to run so smooth. He was also actively involved in numerous fund raising activities over the years; in the late 2000’s he worked tirelessly to raise funds so that the club could purchase a new fairway mower. Only this very weekend were we due to undertake our annual Church Gate Collection, and once again, Kevin had signed up to help the cause.

He also worked hard to further the cause of Kerry Pitch & Putt, serving many roles, including Chairman of the Kerry Pitch & Putt County Board. In 2019, as County Juvenile Officer, he led Kerry to All Ireland U16 glory, with his son, Bobby, part of the team.

Our deepest condolences to Kevin’s mother Jane, son Bobby, his sisters, Anne Marie, and Sinéad, and to his brothers John, Michael, Adrian, Niall, and Declan. Rest in peace, Kev. Thank you for all you did for Listowel Pitch & Putt Club.

A Fact

Ringling Brothers and Barnun and Bailey Circus which had been performing in the U.S. since the 19th century, played its last show on May 21 2017.

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Life and Death

Wild flowers along the John B. Keane Road

Interesting Artefact

shared online by John O’Leary

A Week for Remembering

It was a coincidence that Jim Cogan’s anniversary this year fell on the same week as the annual graveyard mass. This mass always attracts a huge congregation to remember and honour our loved ones who are buried here.It is a precious tradition and also a big honour for all the hard working people who keep John Paul 2 cemetery looking so lovely.

In certain countries there is a tradition of leaving a stone on a grave when you visit. Having a big pile of stones on your grave is a kind of badge of honour.

We don’t have that traditiion here and it’s actually not a very fair tradition really since some family live near the grave of a loved one and many live very far away.

At Jim Cogan’s grave his daughter in law, Carine, uses her crochet talents to make a coverings for stones. She is currently redoing the coverings for all the tribute stones and we will replace them on the grave. The grandchildren bring shells from the beach. All tributes matter.

Lidl

I can’t keep up with progress here at all. As a local man remarked, “It’s flying up.”

Knockanure

Looking up the hill to Knockanure

This new planting marks a lovely entrance to the village.

From the vantage point of the church steps, it was so refreshing to look out over lush countryside. A farmer was cutting hay on the day I visited. In the distance the wind turbines, now a feature of the Irish countryside, were turning.

A Fact

In Darwin, Australia in 2017 a camel ran away from a circus. There was pandemonium as he ran on to a busy road and traffic was brought to a standstill. He was eventually caught and returned to the circus. He had made his way on to a golf course.

Albert Kennedy Roundabout

On the Ballybunion Road

The Old Order Changeth….”

This store is due to be demolished to give way to the new one and the greatly extended car park.

Parents and Friends Garden Fete

People worked really hard to make this one a success. The results of their efforts meant a great few hours for us all. Well done, all.

The theme was Hawaiin. Nobody told the weather though.

Aloha, ladies

There were some fabulous prizes to be won.

( I’ll have a few more photos next week.)

A Few more from my Trip to Knockanure

A lovely tribute to a beloved pastor

Today’s PP has a dedicated parking spot.

Making sense of it all. Wordsmith Writers Group 

Mick O’Callaghan

Friday June 13th, 2025

Perhaps man had 100 senses and when he died only the 5 senses, we know of perish with him and the others remain. Checkov

In this deeply philosophical prompt, I think that we are challenged to look at ourselves 

In school we were always taught that we had 5 senses, sight, taste, smell, touch and hearing. We also learned that there was an interaction between all 5. Our taste buds will influence what we eat but so too will smell and its appearance. If food smells bad or is not well presented visually, we will be loath to eat it.

At home we were made aware of another sense. If we were in doubt about doing something we were told to go with our gut instinct. 

                                                .                                                            

Initially in this writing prompt Checkov is basically telling us that there is more to life and living than what we experience through the basic five senses. He is also saying that when people die, they leave a lot of themselves behind.

Last September we had a family reunion of relations from America, England and Ireland. They all wanted to experience the lives and homesteads of their forebears. We drove to Béal Trá in Barrow, Ardfert and we saw the foundations of the ancestral home. There was a preservation order on some of these because they were built in famine times. We walked through them and took lots of photographs. One of my American cousins said, as we walked through the old outhouses ‘Don’t you feel a great sense of history here, he could feel it in his bones. When he touched the stone wall and as his daughter was filming him, his emotions took over and he shed copious tears.

We surely were reliving emotional history as most of my relations had never visited here before. As I walked through the ruins of my great grand uncle’s kitchen, I could smell the plug tobacco from his pipe and the scent of the timber logs burning in his fire. I could see and experience his roguish smile, and I could see his súgán chair and large wooden table. Jim Bob O Connell was an ex-policeman in Dublin, and he had a sharp sense of security, sleeping with a shot gun across his bed every night. I re envisaged that scene as I was walking about the remnants of the old homestead. I heard his roguish smile in my ear, and I felt his sense of excitement when we brought him up fresh bass from the sea. Now as I visualised the fresh fish we caught, I can feel and sense the fishy scales on my hands while my sense of smell was activated by the flames shooting out from the frying pan cooking the fish swimming in a sea of melted butter.

I left this place over 60 years ago and Jim Bob is now dead over 40 years. When we walked the ground of our ancestors, we experienced all those extra dimensions of his life which he left behind, through our basic five senses.

The memories and recall of these events are still alive in my head today. My nose can detect many long-lost healthy salt sea air smells. When I went outside the door of Jim Bob’s home I began to relive more of my youthful journeys along that historic Barrow. Banna strand. My brain was on overdrive processing all the varied images of people and places I knew so well in my youth. They were all long since dead but were alive to me now. I felt their presence and their influence on me. I had a real sense of how they had shaped my life and values.

As I strolled down the lane, I was feeling the soft sea mists of long ago and how we sheltered under the rickety hay shed or under the bushes till it passed by. I was tasting the lovely plum jam which my granny made from the plums growing there.

I can also remember many feelings of hunger and thirst during our many visits there as our families were strictly three meals a day people and snack bars were unheard of.

As we strolled here in our younger days we fell, got cuts and injuries, we felt a sense of pain but never mentioned pain threshold. Everything was cured with a splash of iodine or mercurochrome and after their application we were asked if we felt any pain now. No one ever did.

In life we have our five basic senses, but we feel much more in our everyday existence.

I can put my finger up to my nose, put my hands behind my back, tie my laces and perform such complicated acts as walking, co-ordinating movements, climbing, eating, chewing, swallowing, speaking and breathing during my time on planet earth. We feel cold and heat, anxiety, isolation and we have all experienced a sense of fear in some situations in our lives. There are many senses and situations that we must manage every day. We manage them well enough but sometimes experience stress.

Then people often comment and say that someone has a great presence about them with a sense of confidence oozing out from them. They are portrayed as role models.

We also see exemplary people who influence us greatly. Mother Teresa of Calcutta is now dead, but she has left behind a great legacy. We can easily recall her great sense of caring, her sense of selflessness and her compassion in relieving deprivation in the ghettos of Calcutta. I remember being lucky enough to be in her presence in the Mansion House in Dublin. You felt you were in the presence of greatness, and I was certainly inspired by her and in awe of her work

Checkov himself during his all too short life on earth displayed a great sense care of family. He suffered from Tuberculosis all his life but from an early age he wrote short stories and sold them to make money to pay for his family’s education.

When I was growing up, we were advised to use our sense of hearing more than our act of speaking which I generally adhere to in my life. My senses are always turned on, but I try to ensure while walking, talking or listening that I am paying proper attention, benefitting from my surroundings and from people who talk to me.

At this stage of my life, I reflect on things regularly, I walk and eat more slowly, and I listen to my body, my constant sixth sense. While strolling I do not wear earmuffs, earplugs, or other appendages preferring to listen to the ambient sounds of nature such as birds singing, streams flowing or leaves blowing in the wind. 

I thank my forebears for all the wonderful memories they left behind in the collection of their accumulated 95 senses .

Clarification

A week is a long time in local politics. Obviously the decision was already taken but the signs dedicating the new roundabout to Albert Kennedy had not yet been erected when I took my photos last week.

A Fact

Debate over. It’s concluded by scientists that the chicken came before the egg. The protein that makes egg shells is only produced by hens.

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A Roundabout

Ballybunion Road entrance to the cycle path

Simple and beautiful playthings

When did you last see a child play with marbles? These primitive toys were cheap and colourful. and hours of fun.

My collection

Roundabout on the Ballybunion Road

This roundabout takes you away from town and on to the relief road for Tralee.

This is the commemorative stonework marking the official opening of the new road.

The stonework is beautiful.

I’m presuming the stones were carved by B. Leen and C. O’s.

I have no idea what the significence of this is. Could it be that we’re all broken but there is a golden core of goodness in everyone?

Maybe not.

There is a bit of celtic knotwork on this stone. I know a man who thinks that Listowel deserves the title of the World Centre of Celtic Art.

I don’t know if this roundabout has a name. If it doesn’t, may I suggest calling it after John Pierse. It is located beside Teampall Bán. John did Listowel a huge service by researching and documenting the history of this place of pain and anguish…Listowel’s worst wound.

Because of John and his beloved Tidy Town group we will never forget.

Progress at Lidl site

I’m a bit behind with my photos.

This looks to me like a huge building project.

A Poem

On Lough Annagh, Co. Mayo

The Fisherman

by W. B. Yeats

Although I can see him still— 

The freckled man who goes 

To a gray place on a hill 

In gray Connemara clothes 

At dawn to cast his flies— 

It’s long since I began 

To call up to the eyes 

This wise and simple man. 

All day I’d looked in the face 

What I had hoped it would be 

To write for my own race 

And the reality: 

The living men that I hate, 

The dead man that I loved, 

The craven man in his seat, 

The insolent unreproved— 

And no knave brought to book 

Who has won a drunken cheer— 

The witty man and his joke 

Aimed at the commonest ear, 

The clever man who cries 

The catch cries of the clown, 

The beating down of the wise 

And great Art beaten down. 

Maybe a twelve-month since 

Suddenly I began, 

In scorn of this audience, 

Imagining a man, 

And his sun-freckled face 

And gray Connemara cloth, 

Climbing up to a place 

Where stone is dark with froth, 

And the down turn of his wrist 

When the flies drop in the stream— 

A man who does not exist, 

A man who is but a dream; 

And cried, “Before I am old 

I shall have written him one 

Poem maybe as cold 

And passionate as the dawn.”

A Fact

Alcoholics Anonymous was founded in Ohio in the USA in 1935.

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