Ciaran’s Peculier [sic] Blog

A view of the world from an Irish hole

Month: June, 2010

Cavan in the news in the hermit kingdom

People in Cavan are blissfully unaware that events swirling around their heads interest far more than themselves but are actually the subject of comment far, far away. It has recently been learned that happenings here have been mentioned in the North Korean media. Items to have made their way onto the nation’s news broadcasts have included the recent Hen night festival, the rumoured closure of the Cavan County Headshop in Ballyjamesduff while mention has also been made of the forthcoming fleadh. Check it out.

There are persistent rumours that the secretive Dear Leader Kim Jong-il is planning a rare foreign ttrip to Cavan later in the year to inaugurate a link between Cavan’s Johnston Central Library and the Kim Il-Sung Central Library in Pyongyang. This will include a public lecture in the library on “The Diocese of Kilmore and Korea in the Later Middle Ages”, given by the library’s preferred little darling of a historian, Dr Brendan Scott.

The Raid

One of Leo Tolstoy’s earliest yet finest stories is entitled “The Raid”. It was set in the North Caucasus and includes details drawn from Tolstoy’s own experiences fighting the Chechens. Yet I think a short story of the same namer, though without Tolstoy’s charm and poise, could be written about events in Cavan town, as they unfolded on the weekend beginning June 18th. At that time, customs and excises officials raided a number of licensed premises in the town and seized alcohol that was being sold there, but for which no duty had been paid, thereby making its purchases price lower and the potential profit from resale higher.

 I have heard that one premises in particular was targeted, and no, I’m not going to repeat it. Suffice it to say that its owners are well connected politically at both local and national level. What’s more the premises’s dining facilities are completely inaccessible toe me and to all other wheelchair uses. This is not a legacy of the building’s age. It should have been diaphanously clear to the planning authorities who signed off on the plans, but sure, who cares about cripples? But the owners should know that there is NO difference between the ten euro note proffered by the cripple and the able-bodied citizen, just as there is no difference between the able-bodied note and the cripple at election time.

 It will be interesting to see if any prosecutions arise. They would be embarrassing to say the least, and for that reason I suspect the ‘phones in the DPP’s office have been ringing loudly. But then as the affair of Ivor Callely shows, there is one law for members of Seanad Eirinn, quite another for the rest of us.

 Going back to the short story I suspect that the denouement of this particular roman will be inconclusive.

Gardai issue warning to public

Gardai in Cavan town are warning people to be extra vigilant on the evening of  Thursday, 17th June, when they have learned that the town is to be visited by notorious and shameless criminal mastermind Noel the Dwarf. Noel belongs to a criminal family based in Trim, which was suspected of supplying the getaway vehicles to fellow underworld figure, the vegetarian Gormless john, in his heist in Hay-on-Wye last year. Noel the Dwarf is expected to take part in a meeting with members of the local criminal confraternity, scheduled for the Farnham Hotel. The Dwarf’s gang is in turn part of a nationwide racket called The Cabinet Crooks whose members are involved in protection rackets, identity theft, credit card fraud and prostitution. Like the Russian mafia they have recently gained a reputation for complete heartlessness and their most recent scams have involved stealing money from the blind and partially sighted.  No one could accuse The Dwarf of keeping a low profile, as he travel s around Ireland in a chauffeur-driven car and gets the taxpayer to cover his mileage and holiday expenses. In fact, some observers feel that he deliberately courts prosecution, in an attempt to show up the impotency of the criminal justice system. Gardai are nevertheless advising people not to approach the Dwarf or any o his associates, as they are extremely dangerous. .

Orphanage fire victims remembered in Cavan

The commemoration for the Cavan Orphanage fire victims is an event that few of us will forget in a hurry. It was so moving. Over two hundred people came along. What’s more the weather lovely, and we were able to enjoy a typical balmy June evening, something which we hadn’t seen for a number of years. The music was delightful. The young children gave spirited renditions of a number of hymns, while Ita Madden’s interpretation of “Going Home” was breathtaking. Karin Charles’ has a voice not unlike La Piaffe, only without the harshness. John O’Donoghue is a wonderful sing and song-writer whose lyrics are like the flapping of birds’ wings while I don’t think there was a dry eye as the lay whose name just escapes me sang “Na Paisti Beaga”, especially when it was companied by the release of doves. At that moment we all knew that the sprits of those whose lives were cut short on that dreadful night were amongst us. Ann from Dublin who was a resident of the Orphanage, though she was not there on that fateful night, than sang a song she used to sing to the younger girls to try and get to sleep.

 There were readings from a number of people, including a poem by Pat Joe Kennedy of Quivvy. I don’t think there are many who will disagree with me when I say that Pat Joe is one of the finest of Cavan’s poets. His verse comes from the heart, and they resonate a familiar internal and external landscape.

 Prayers were also said by, amongst others, Sean Gillian, my good friend Brian Sulilvan, Sean Galligan and a representative of the Baha’I faith, while Fr Ultan McGoohan was a very gifted master of ceremonies. Another representative from the Buddhist community laid some flowers.

 As usual on such occasions I met many people whom I had not met for a long time. One of those whom my heart filled with joy to see was Eileen Kinsella. Eileen looked after my dear mother in the final weeks of her life, and she always brought a smile of contentment to my meteor’s face, as she did to mine.

 The events were a tribute to Cavan ‘s people, and what they were capable of achieving when they set their minds to it, not least Sean Galligan, Lorraine Kelly and Eamon, whom we’ll adopt as a Cavanman, in the face of thejustified  howls of protest of his native Sheep-stealers. I hope I haven’t left anyone out, but if I have I will only be too happy to rectify my error. The ould memory is going very quickly. There are times I have difficulty remembering my own name these days, and when I look at myself in the mirror I say. “Keith, you’re a horrid bollox”.

Book about St John’s Cloverhill, Co. Cavan

I have recently completed a charming book called Cloverhill: A Church of Ireland parish in County Cavan, c. 1720 -2010 written by Dr Jonathan Cherry. This was produced in association with the 150th anniversary celebrations of the parish church’s consecration.

 Jonathan Cherry is a very good friend of mine. We have much in common. We both attended Cavan’s Royal School where the teachers, not least Douglas Anderson and Ivan Bolton, imparted that spirit of civility, combined with a thirst for knowledge, which has served us both so well. We have both been “doctored” in history. We are both scholars,  motivated by a deep and sincere respect for each other’s work.  What is more we both come from well-respected families in our respective communities.

 Dr Cherry’s book is a history of a small, vibrant and tenacious rural community. He traces its history, using written sources, maps and folklore, as well as less traditional sources. But this is more than just another history book, as Dr Cherry brings the unique perspective of an historical geographer to his task. He tells the story of the locality, but never forgets that its story unfolds in a far wider context.

 Cloverhill was, for over two centuries, synonymous with the local landholding family of the Sandersons. Dr Cherry sympathetically describes their relationship with the community, and what emerges is a picture, not of exploitation, but of co-operation. The Sanderson demesne lands at the centre of the parish were a considerable employer, while the rents collected didn’t feed the gaming habits of some far-off and ambivalent absentee proprietor. Instead they were used by a series of landlords, including the indomitable Mary Ann Sanderson, who was deeply committed to Cloverhill.

 The central aspect of this community is without doubt St John’s parish church. It was built by the aforementioned Mary Ann Sanderson. Like many people I had been misled into thinking that the church had been consecrated in December 1856 by a centenary service reported in the Anglo-Celt in December 1956. The formal consecration took place in 1860. This may help in identifying the architect. Dr Cherry repeats Jeremy Williams’ assertion that one of the Wellands may have been responsible. Why I felt that it was NOT the work of William Hague Jar (1836-99) was that, in 1856 Hague was only twenty years of age and not a qualified architect. If the building work only began say in 1857 or 1858 it Hague might have had a hand in drawing up the plans for his father who built the church, although he was as yet still too young and inexperienced to be credited with the work.

 In an introductory chapter Dr Cherry outlines the various sources he used. He outlines one which is probably the most important, and which is all too easily overlooked: an intimate knowledge of the location.  He writes:

 An often understated but hugely important source in understanding the sense of a place or the place as lived is personal experience. As a native of the area … I have been immersed in the history of the place since an early age. My own personal interest in the evolution of the village and district, coupled with strong familial ties to the area, have been of significant value in charting the history and understanding Cloverhill past and present. Speaking with local people and simply observing change has given me a greater understanding of what Cloverhill means to those who live there.

 This is a local study par excellence. It is of value on many different, though parallel levels, first as a local history, and then as a volume that gives keen and erudite insights into rural and religious history, as well as the history of landscape. All these elements are deftly brought together by Dr Cherry through his engaging and pellucid style.

Orphanage fire victims’ commemoration in Cavan, 15/6/2010

The commemoration for the victims of the convent fire will be a truly memorable and heart-warming event. Everything is falling into place. Even the weather looks as if it’s going to be pleasant. I am sure that our efforts are being helped along by the spirits of the thirty-five girls and the elderly cook who perished that night.

 Our involvement in this project has been a pleasure. It is amazing how a group of people can make a difference when they set their minds to it, and how they can move mountains by harnessing the skills they have amongst themselves. I already knew Sean Galligan, who is the spring-board of the group. I have een able to meet again my old friend (though not in age) Ita Madden, whose knowledge and commitment has always ensured that the group always does he right thing. But I have made so many new friends, like Eamon and Lorraine, not to mention Fr Ultan McGoohan., a true gentleman. Some may have heard Karin Charles’ wonderful documentary about the tragedy and the commemoration on Northern Sound radio.

 The ceremony is for all the people of Cavan. It is an opportunity to remember those who perished, but without rancour.

 Alas our success has attracted  the attention of some elements of Cavan town’s publicity-hungry political pond-life. They couldn’t be persuaded to come to our meetings, (even though I saw one of them in the bar of the Farnham on a night we were having a meeting, until they sensed that, by not getting involved they  might lose a photo opportunity. I do hope none of them come along wearing their chains, though it might be difficult to tell them to get lost. They’ve been of no help to his so far, but that does not mean that they couldn’t be a hindrance to us in the future.. But let us not think of such people, but instead of the thirty-five girls and their cook who died that night. Had they lived they would have been able to spin that web of magic which each of us spins, which is called our lives.

All the fun of the Fleadh

The residents of Can town are looking forward to the Fleadh which is to deswcend upon the town at the end of August. Those who are looking forward to it the most are the town’s publicans, who number in their ranks the odd councillor, senator and other assorted political low life. How Cavan town was awarded the Fleadh in the first place is beyond me. There isn’t adequate infrastructure, and there not enough hotel or guesthouse places to go round, prompting an initiative to encourages the cash-starved people of Cavan to make a bit of extra dosh by letting out spare rooms, and failing that a kennel.

 Let us imagine Cavan town in the Fleadh’s aftermath, a scene of broken bottles, pilled drink, vomit, broken glass and discarded condoms (you see, there are still a couple of Cavan lads who haven’t got the hang of condoms.)

 But I have been told by one Fleadh head that this will not happen. A fleadh was held not long ago where the only problems were caused by … wait for it … “foreigners”. Now what constitutes a Foreigner here I wonder. I suspect that quite a large number of those attending will be non Irish people, but of course, they’ll be white.

 The clean-up will be left to Cavan County Council staff. There are fewer of them – the cutbacks you know. But why shouldn’t Whacko Jacko and some of the councillors go out with his pooper-scooper?

 I like a good b low out, especially one accompanied by good music and friendly females (though I suspect some Fleadh aficionados have different tastes, the legacy of so long spent on the road). I had the reputation of someone who really knew how to push the boat out.

 I am no party pooper, but I’m definitely not a party puker either. When having a good time I have always ensured that I deposit my bodily fluids only in warm and concealed spaces.

What you won’t find in disabled toilets

This week’s RTE Guide contains a very interesting interview with the talented young British actor David Proud. David is of course, wheel-chair bound, and he has used with wonderful skillsto help overcome some of the prejudice and ignorance surrounding disability. He asks why is it that there are no condom machines in disabled toilets? I can answer cynically because it is considered by the £able-bodied” who make decisions, that disabled guys just don’t have sex. They haven’t got the proper kit, it is believed. They are incapable of performing “proper” jobs so it goes without saying that the sexual act is beyond them as well. And then so many of the “Voluntary organisations” which supposedly look after the disabled would never ask such a question, as invariably their patrons include more than their fair share of do-gooders. 

 I’d love to tell David about the plight of a certain partially-sighted guy who couldn’t always see the condom machine, and who was too embarrassed to ask. He knew well that it would be a waste of time contacting the National Council for the Blind of Ireland on this, as on any other problem. What would Archbishop Clifford say?!

 David also mentions another piece of unbelievable ignorance – that disabled people don’t swear. Of course, if they do it is because they are angry and they are still having problems coming to terms with their position as God’s accursed.

Kerb crawling in Cavsn town

Yesterday I had to pay a visit to Cavan town. This was no big deal. I am in a wheelchair and I was going to an address in Wesley St. (not the FAS office). The problem was caused by the kerb, which was so high that my wheelchair couldn’t traverse it. Luckily (indeed very happily) the charming young lady who was with me held my hand as I got out of the wheelchair and gained access to the footpath.

 Cavan town is a nightmare as far as wheelchair and disabled access is concerned. I must ask Where is the Irish Wheelchair association? Its top honcho in Cavan, Bridget Boyle, enjoys a special relationship with Cavan County Manager, Jack Keys, so I’m sure that she could make usual representations. But then what business do I, or any wheelchair user, have to be attempting to follow an independent life? Should the only journeys I make outside of my home not be in the IWA state-of-the- arse” Mercedes minibus to their centre at Corlurgan, where I can spend the day with other wheelchair users, before regaining my seat on the minibus (a sparkling existence)?

 The [problems regarding disabled access in Cavan can be solved cheaply and with common sense. Dished footpaths can be installed, though unless they have a corresponding dished footpath on the other side of the street facing them they are worse than useless. This would not be expensive. I would go so far as to say it would cost less money than the fees and travel expenses paid to “access auditors” from Scotland to come and write glossy reports about Cavan, a location unknown to them. The considerable gaps in their knowledge being supplied by local disabled people who are expected to “shadow” them – for free of course.  ,

 All in all I enjoyed my little trip to Cavan town – a journey most people take for granted. What’s more I had the pleasure of momentarily holding the hand of a pretty lady – sometimes being in a wheelchair has its advantages.

Arson around again

According to RTE news Gardai are investigating a suspected arson attack at an industrial estate in Dublin.

 The arsonist(s) are probably on the run now, fearing apprehension, but I want to give them some words of consolation for the future. You should really get out of the grime of the big city and move to a border county. There your involvement with arson will be initially forgotten, especially if you join Fianna Fail and the Knights of St Columbanus. You will then be able to look back upon your past with pride and speak candidly and unashamedly about it. And what’s more you will even get a job with the local authority.

 Instead of having to keep a low profile to escape the Bill, you will be able to have your mugs emblazoned on a weekly basis in the local paper. When you attend social events camera bulbs will flash as if you were Brittney Spears. If you still have criminal tendencies you will be able to steal with impunity, and because of your newfound friends you will be able to slander decent people, and what’s more be believed.

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