Phew! Is she Gone?
That was some storm. I haven’t been out so no photos except those on Twitter
Eerily quiet Dawson Street Dublin on October 16 2017.
Behan’s and The Horseshoe
A Flea and a Fly flew into a Fleadh
I love it when people are trawling through the Kennelly photo archive and come across something Listowel related and share it.
I don’t know who these boys are or a date for the photo but I’m presuming it was a fancy dress parade prior to Listowel’s hosting of Fleadh Cheoil na hEireann.
Cobwebs in the mist
A few spider facts for you;
If a thread of steel could be made as fine as a spider’s silk, the steel would be less strong.
Spiders webs have been used in Indonesia to catch fish.
A baby spider is born with the ability to spin a web. He doesn’t have to be taught.
Hatching by John B. Keane (part 2…continued from yesterday)
The reluctant hatcher was presented with a
saucer of hoochpaste but showed no interest at first. It didn’t look very appetizing
so the woman of the house spoon fed her until she began to cluck appreciatively
and cock her head high for more. I never saw any creature of the female gender
take so quickly to booze. In less than three minutes the saucer was empty and
she was sleeping as soundly as a drunken apostate during a long sermon.
“She’ll die surely.” Said the woman of the
“She won’t nor die,” said himself who knew
from long experience that a person could be dead drunk without being dead. How
right he was! She slept for several hours without moving, contributing
throughout every moment of her repose to the hatching process beneath her craw.
When she awakened she tried to rise but failed. She fell asleep again. The next
awakening was different. She staggered around the kitchen until she arrived at
the door where she was assailed by that arch enemy of all forms of drunkenness;
fresh air. It revived her instantly but a second saucer of hoochmeal was
prepared and presented to her before she
could sober up. Afterwards she fell asleep for a whole day.
After a fortnight the eggs were hatched.
There emerged twelve of tha handsomest chicks you ever saw.
The hatcher died soon afterwards of liver
disease but she had nobly served her purpose and if some may crib about forcing
her into alcoholism, I say to these to come and have a gander at the chicks she
hatched. They grew up into outstanding specimens of their breed, seven hens and
five cocks.One hen who wandered too far from the fowl run was carried off by a
fox but tte other eleven survived and I know for a fact that not a solitary
one of that fine clutch put a taste of booze to their beaks to the day they
departed for the heavenly henhouse in the sky. So we see some more good uses to
which whiskey may be put as if there weren’t enough already
Only in Cork
The shop is Scally’s in Clonakilty and the photo appeared on Reddit.