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

Tag: Duchas Page 3 of 7

Killarney, Drama at Writers’ Week, Spend and God will Send and a Sign at Mike the Pies

Ciaran Foley posted this smashing photograph of Killarney Cathedral to This is Kerry

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A Writers’ Week Memory



This is Barney O’Reilly in his role as Con, The Shaughraun in Dion Boucicault’s play of the same name. The play was staged during Listowel Writers’ Week on June 3 1976.

I recently ran into Barney while shopping in Tralee and he has happy memories of his days with Writers’ Week in the 1970s.

Barney was in at the start of the amateur drama section of the festival. In the 1970s amateur drama was flourishing in Ireland with many very talented local groups performing throughout the winter and spring. There were also some excellent playwrights writing for these groups.  Barney told me that he and Garry Hynes would travel around the country seeing these plays and they would select the best for the playwriting competition at Writers’ Week.

The very first recipient of the prize for a new play was the father of the now renowned playwright, Marina Carr.

If you have any memories of early Writers’ Weeks I’d love to hear from you.

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Christmas 1911


This comes from a publication called Lady of the House. This is from the 1911 Christmas edition.

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Strange Tales from the Schools’ Folklore Collection

Bird-Lore

There was once a middle aged man who had little or no money. Then it was coming near Christmas his shoes became worn and he began to collect all his money a few days before Christmas she found he had twelve shillings so he went along the road to the nearest town to buy a pair of shoes. When he had gone little way he heard a black bird on a bush saying “Spend and God will send”. He went on and he heard a thrush saying “Be merry today to-morrow you die.” He went on to town and spent the twelve shillings on drink and as he was coming home he heard a wren saying. “Have it yourself or be without it.”

Some people go torching. They light a candle and having the bottom of a bottle knocked out, they put the candle into it. The lighting side of the candle should be stuck up the jowl of the bottle. You must follow the wind always. When you see a bird you must strike him on the head with a piece of stick and kill him. A stormy night is the best sort of night to go torchhing. The How pigeons build their nests. The hen goes into and box and the cock lungs straw in and the hen fixes it and after about two says the nest is made and in about a day or two the hen lays an egg and the next day she lays another egg. Then the cock hatches in the day and the hen hatches at night and about three weeks the young ones come out. Then you should get crushed corn and give it to the pair. Then the pigeons fill their craws and throw it up into the young pigeons mouths and in about three week they come out of the nest and in about five days they can fly.

Collector Pat Mc Elligott, Address- Bedford, Co. Kerry

Informant Tom Halpin- Age 27 Address, Bedford, Co. Kerry.

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Progress Report on Mike the Pies

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Caring Hands



This poem comes from someone who is going through cancer treatment. I think many people who have their lives in the hands of others will appreciate it.

Fiona with a Fieldmouse 


by Alasdair MacLean

Alerted in the hayfield by a shout

I catch the small grey thing

the scuttles from my scythe and me

and yield it to the keeping of Fiona

who is three.

You could blow it out this thing, 

it is so small and weak;

it is a tail dependent on a squeak, 

a palpitation trimmed with fur.

Fiona has no words for it, no thought even, 

she has narrowed down in being 

to a pair of childish hands

and yet the weakness she is learning now

will stay with her

through all her lives and all her lands

until its turn comes round again.

Unrecognised, perhaps unwanted then,

the meaning of this day

will flood out over husband, lover, child, whoever

has the good luck to have chanced upon her

and to be standing in her way.

Alasdair MacLean was a staunch atheist but I think this poem is profoundly Christian.

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Mother and Daughter at Halo Health




It’s always lovely to chat with these two. I met Eileen and Elaine on Saturday, December 14 2019. The bond between mother and daughter is heartwarming.

I have to admire Eileen’s courage. It was a skinning cold day and there she was, out and about and always smiling.

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Now some Sport


Photo from St. Senan’s GAA on Facebook.



What a tumble! What a photograph!



Photo and caption from Healyracing on Facebook

Jockey Paul Bannon and “Likethislikethat” parting company at Necarne PTP last May. What’s going through poor Paul’s head as he is about to hit the ground ? And the way his left leg is shaped as he falls ! Thankfully he was ok afterwards. Great athletes, Great Sportspeople…

A Christmas Candle, Craftshop na Méar and Kerry Writers Museum Craft fair


Listowel Arms at Christmas 2019

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Another lovely Christmas window

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Kerry Writers’ Museum Craft Fair

Here are some of the crafters I missed when I posted these last.

These lovely colourful mandalas all all unique. They would make a lovely display grouped together on a wall. Great value too from this really talented lady.

Eimear was at her first craft fair and enjoying the experience.

Mary and her friend, Angela were recycling and up cycling. They had lovely affordable Christmas decorations.


Kerry Writers Museum was just the place to start your Christmas shopping for 2019.


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Looking back and remembering




This photo was taken at the opening of Craftshop na Méar on Church Street.  It shows some of the early crafters, Maureen, Mary, Una, Namir, Mary, Kelly, Mairéad and Mary with Miriam Kiely in whose old home the shop was located. Front left is the late Dan Green who died so tragically soon after.

The Craftshop verdict ; Sad its over but glad it happened.

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A Candle Story from the Schools’ Folklore Collection

Long ago an old woman who lived in a thatched house before going to bed on Christmas night took her candles, quenched them and put them into a drawer in the table for fear that during the night the house might go on fire. She got out of bed early next morning to light the candles again. On opening the drawer to her surprise she found the candles lighting at both ends. She took it as a lesson that the Christmas candles would not burn anything.

Collector, Teresa Fitzmaurice- Address Beal Middle, Co. Kerry
Informant- Mrs H. Fitzmaurice, Age 42 Address, Beal Middle, Co. Kerry.
Location: Ballybunnion, Co. Kerry- Teacher: An tSr. Aodán.

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Event Guide


If you want to know what’s on in Listowel over the holidays, Listowel.ie has a great new page detailing everything that ‘s on.

Here’s the link

Events in Listowel

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+  R.I.P. Martin Hickey  +



I took this photograph on Church Street in 2013. Fred Chute took time out from his painting to chat to his old friend, Martin Hickey.

Sad to say that Listowel has lost both of these old stock in 2019.

Martin has been absent from our streets for a while now and you’d miss him. He was a great servant to his beloved Listowel Celtic and they appreciated their “boss”, installing him in the well deserved office of president.

May the sod rest lightly on Martin’s gentle soul.

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Christmas is a Time for Friends



I met Cathuy Mawe and Eithne Galvin in The Listowel Arms on Saturday Dec. 14 2019.

Mike the Pies, Old Drama Group photos and a daft Christmas story from the Dúchas collection

St.Mary’s at Night, Christmas 2019

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A Kerry Christmas Childhood

Garry MacMahon

Now I cannot help remembering the happy days gone by,

As Christmastime approaches and the festive season’s nigh.

I wallow in nostalgia when I think of long ago,

And the tide that waits for no man as the years they ebb and flow.

We townies scoured the countryside for holly berries red,

And stripped from tombs green ivy in the graveyard of the dead,

To decorate each picture frame a hanging on the wall,

And fill the house with greenery and brighten winter’s pall,

Putting up the decorations was for us a pleasant chore,

And the crib down from the attic took centre stage once more.

From the box atop the dresser the figures were retrieved,

To be placed upon a bed of straw that blessed Christmas Eve,

For the candles, red crepe paper, round the jamjars filled with sand,

To be placed in every window and provide a light so grand,

To guide the Holy Family who had no room at the inn,

And provide for them a beacon of the fáilte mór within.

The candles were ignited upon the stroke of seven,

The youngest got the privilege to light our way to Heaven,

And the rosary was said as we all got on our knees,

Remembering those who’d gone before and the foreign missionaries.

Ah, we’d all be scrubbed like new pins in the bath before the fire

And, dressed in our pajamas of tall tales we’d never tire,

Of Cuchlainn, Ferdia, The Fianna, Red Branch Knights,

Banshees and Jack o Lanterns, Sam Magee and Northern Lights

And we’d sing the songs of Ireland, of Knockanure and Black and Tans,

And the boys of Barr na Sráide who hunted for the wran.

Mama and Dad they warned us as they gave each good night kiss,

If we didn’t go to sleep at once then Santa we would miss,

And the magic Christmas morning so beloved of girls and boys,

When we woke to find our dreams fulfilled and all our asked for toys,

But Mam was up before us the turkey to prepare,

To peel the spuds and boil the ham to provide the festive fare.

She’d accept with pride the compliments from my father and the rest.

“Of all the birds I’ve cooked,” she’s say, “ I think that this year’s was the best.”

The trifle and plum pudding, oh, the memories never fade

And then we’d wash the whole lot down with Nash’s lemonade.

St. Stephen’s Day brought wrenboys with their loud knock on the door,

To bodhrán beat abd music sweet they danced around the floor’

We, terror stricken children, fled in fear before the batch,

And we screamed at our pursuers as they rattled at the latch.

Like a bicycle whose brakes have failed goes headlong down the hill

Too fast the years have disappeared. Come back they never will.

Our clan is scattered round the world. From home we had to part.

Still we treasure precious memories forever in our heart.

So God be with our parents dear. We remember them with pride,

And the golden days of childhood and the happy Christmastide.

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Mike the Pies in December 2019



I love the new look.

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Old Listowel Drama Group photos

Below is a great collection of old Drama Group photos that Maeve Moloney has sent us. We have no details of names or even the name of the play/plays or the year they were taken. We need your help.

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A Dúchas Christmas Memory



Garret Stack went to confession Christmas Eve and he was to go to communion Christmas morning and the clock stopped during the night and he got up and went away thinking it was very late and when he was near Newtown he met a priest and he knew him and that priest was dead and he came down the road and went into Mc. Cabe’s and it was only one o’clock and he stayed there until morning.

Written by Con Shine, Kilbaha, told by his father John Shine.

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A Minute of Your Time



 My photograph shows Diana having a quick look At A Minute of Your Time in O’Mahoney’s Tralee. This is the latest outlet to sell it.

It’s sold out in The Friary Bookshop, Killarney but it’s available nearby in The Dungeon. Eagers and O’Connors also have copies.

It’s proving popular as a Christmas present, suitable for young and old.

 Thank you to everyone who has supported me in this new venture.



Longueville House, An Old Wife’s Tale from Mountcoal and the Toy Show

A Chaffinch

Photo; Chris Grayson

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In Longueville


While I was in Kanturk we were in celebratory mode. We had Sunday lunch in Longueville House. It’s a kind of Downton Abbey style experience, only the food is better. I’d definitely recommend it for a (very) special treat.

This lovely mannered dog met us on arrival.

To the Manor born!

The way Sunday lunch goes is that you order your main course and you choose as many starters as you want from a table heaving with temping things to eat.

I’ll stop teasing you now but suffice it to say that the ambience is warm and welcoming, the food delicious. They make their own cider and brandy and they have a policy of sourcing their ingredients as close to home as possible. It’s not really a place for children but the little ones in our company were made welcome and there is a maze for them to play in to work off the lunch.

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Bread of Heaven


Strange tale of religion and superstition from Dúchas Schools’ folklore collection

Little Hands and the Bread Shoes

Once upon a time there lived a man with his wife and son war broke in France, and every Irish man had to go there, and this man had to go also. He wrote letters every day to his wife, and once a wire came to his wife that her husband got killed in the war. She had only one little boy, and he was only a baby. It was a slate house they had.

One day as the little boy was sleeping in his cradle, a slate fell off over the window, and a branch of ivy went in the window and it grew around the child’s cot. The child was about four years when he went to school. After a time the children got the “flu”, and the little boy took it, and he was very sick, and it was worse he was geting, and at last he died.

His mother kept a little red pair of shoes under her bed, and when she went up in the room the mice had them eaten, and then she took out a loaf of bread out of the bin and softened it in boiling water; and while she was softening the bread a man went in and asked a piece of bread for God’s sake. The woman said that she had bread inside, and she had a loaf in the bin.

The man who asked her was Christ at last the boy was buried, and the threw herself on the grave, and the neighbours pulled her away, and she went to bed after going home, and a few nights after her son appeared to her and said I am in the first step of heaven mother, but the bread shoes are keeping me back, and the night he came he said he was in the second step of heaven, but the bread shoes had kept him back and the next night he came he said he was in the third step of heaven but the bread shoes had kept him back, and then they took off the shoes, and he went to heaven. After a short time the boys mother died, and she went to heaven

Collector

Eileen Hannon Age 14- Informant- Mrs Ellen Foley-Age 74- Address, Mountcoal, Co. Kerry


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Greenway

Great news broke this weekend as the sod was turned on the extension from Listowel to Kilmorna of The Greenway.

We owe a big debt of gratitude of the people who fought so hard for this

You can see the story in this Facebook video shared by Mike Guerin

Mike Guerin’s video

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Late Late Toy Show

The unanimous verdict is that it was the best yet and I’ll tell you why. This year it was more about the children than the toys.

Kanturk streets, Convent Girls named and some lore from Dúchas

Nothing beats a dry sunny Winter’s day in Listowel

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Kanturk, Co Cork, My Hometown

Recently I went on a book promoting trip to my home town. While I was there I took a few photos. Some parts of town are very much as they were in my youth. Other parts have changed beyond recognition.

This is the Edel Quinn Hall where I held the Kanturk launch of a Minute of Your Time. I remember the hall being built in the 1950s.

This old photograph was shared recently on a Facebook page, Kanturk Memories. It shows men and boys making cement blocks for the construction of the hall. The blocks were made in a yard near the boys’ national school. The hall was built largely by voluntary labour.

This is very hard to read but it is an inscription in Latin on one of Kanturk’s bridges. It dates the bridge as an 18th century construction.

This is O’Brien Street

The main bridge leading to Main Street.

These are the inscriptions in English on this bridge. I have no idea what the reference to Westminster Bridge is all about.

This ugly part of town needs urgent attention. It is such a pity to see these two ramshackle buildings in such a prominent position in town. When I was young both these shops were occupied and busy.

Strand Street shops

Lovely to see this old building refurbished and looking beautiful. This once housed the oldest school in Kanturk. In my day it was the home of a Kanturk legend, Sarah Sheehan. Sarah was active in practically every organisation in town. She is often to be seen in old photos as the only woman in a committee of men.

The building now is a café taking its name from its location at the confluence of the rivers Allow and Dallow.

The biggest shop in town is Twohig’s Super Valu, a lovely local shop which now stocks A Minute of Your Time.

This is Upper Bluepool

Kanturk Bookshop is a lovely independent gem located across the road from North Cork Co Operative Creamery. A Minute of Your Time is available here.

Strand St.

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Second Class Young Ladies Named




Margaret Dillon has a brillant memory for people and names. She has all the namers of the girls in her second class photo;

Back Row ; L to R.

Eileen O’Connor, Eleanor Leahy, Nora Barry, Babe Murphy, Terry Buckley, Eileen Brazil, Patsy Browne.

Next Row Standing; L to R.

Sheila Murphy, Eileen Corridan, Helen O’Quigley, Doreen Canty, Noreen O’Hanlon, Delia Walsh, Mary Walsh, Eileen Barrett, Philomena Horgan, Joan Rowan, Eileen Donoghue.

Sitting; L to R.

Carmel Gorman, Eileen Relihan, Marie Canty Connell, Nora Hanrahan, Brenda Dillon, Margaret Dillon, Marie Moloney, Noreen O’Connor, Jeanie Hartnett.

Front row L to R.

Marie Curtin, Kathleen Enright, Eileen Roche, Kathleen Corridan, Christine Keane, Kathleen Sheehy,  Joan O’Brien, Frankie Chute.

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I Don’t like Mondays

This piece of old lore pertaining to certain times of the year comes from the Dúchas schools’ folklore collection.

Monday was considered an unlucky day to leave home. Up to the present day many parents do not send their children to school for the first time on Monday.

If a person got unwell on Friday it was deemed a bad omen for his recovery. At the present time in this parish (Ballyhar, Co. Kerry) people do not get married on Monday, on Wednesday, or on Friday. The days from the 1st to the 12th April were called “Laethanta na Bó Riabhaiche in (Ballyhar parish Co. Kerry). This period was a trying one on old cows because they were “run down” as a result of the severity of the winter and the early spring.

Rabharta na hinide was the name given to a break in the weather which occurred towards the end of Shrove. It was a spell of rainy and windy weather combined.

Rabharta na Cásga was the name given to a similar spell which occurred towards the end of Lent.

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