THE SEDUM IS ABOUT TO BLOOM AND THIS USUALLY MEANS VISITS FROM TORTOISESHELLS, RED ADMIRALS AND PEACOCKS. WILL THEY ARRIVE THIS YEAR? COULDN’T BLAME THEM IF THEY DECIDED NOT TO. HOWEVER NATURE IS SOMETHING WONDERFUL SO THEY WILL BE HERE FOR SURE. LIVE IN HOPE
Has there ever been a more complex time? When the virus hit we had directives to follow and it was difficult but we knew what to do. It was frightening but surely only for a few weeks, months at the most. We didn’t believe it when ‘experts’ said it could be years.
That was then, this is now. Personally I’m not sure what I’m about. Last week I had lunch in a crowded restaurant, I had to brush past people waiting for a table, staff wore masks but diners sat chatting before their meal without face covering. Is that OK. Is a restaurant a different zone where we can be natural just like in 2019 and before?
And as for the young men and women going to university, what can they expect, paying for expensive accommodation and not knowing if they will be making use of their rooms. Sitting at home studying without the interaction of university life both educational and social. And what about those who have been lucky enough to get placements, so many are taking these up at home, no office experience because there is no office experience anymore. What about those who are on hospital placement for instance, it’s essential they have practical experience but many of them can’t take this up either. I would love to add ‘at the moment’ so I will, at the moment so let knuckle down and follow the advice which should be rules and ask questions when you’re not sure.
This little homily appeared on Face Book this week. Sad but for so many true especially in these days – and it applies to man and women. Thank you for posting this Nicola Garrett.
Frida Kahlo told her husband, “I’m not asking you to kiss me, nor apologize to me when I think you’re wrong. I won’t even ask you to hug me when I need it most. I don’t ask you to tell me how beautiful I am, even if it’s a lie, nor write me anything beautiful. I won’t even ask you to call me to tell me how your day went, nor tell me you miss me. I won’t ask you to thank me for everything I do for you, nor to care about me when my soul is down, and of course, I won’t ask you to support me in my decisions. I won’t even ask you to listen to me when I have a thousand stories to tell you. I won’t ask you to do anything, not even be by my side forever. Because if I have to ask you, I don’t want it anymore.”
THE GARDEN OF GOOD AND EVIL
In 1997 the fearless Times journalist Martin Fletcher was sent from Washington to Belfast to report on The Troubles, “….. from the free world to dank, dreary, claustrophobic Belfast.” As a result of his experiences he returned to write Silver Linings – Travels Around Northern Ireland a fascinating journey during which he had his eyes opened to the complexities and beauties of the country and its people, he calls it the garden of good and evil. As it was written in 2000 and has been republished nine times, an interesting look back at a time before there was the Titanic Experience, no restructured Gobbins paths, defunct when Martin visited, “I somehow doubted they would ever be walked again.” It was a time when one telephone book satisfied the whole population.
His first journey is along the north coast where he writes “the narrow ribbon of road hugs the shore between towering limestone cliffs and steep wooded hills on one side and wonderful expanse of flat blue waters on the other.” He talks of clouds scudding across the sky trailing short sharp showers in their wake but this merely enhanced the natural drama.
Upside Down in Antrim
Glenarm attracts him and he talks of the 11th Earl of Antrim, known as The Buzzard, and his wish to be buried on the hilltop he loved but insisted he should be laid to rest upright so he could continue to enjoy the distant view of Scotland. Apparently the pallbearers were so exhausted when they got to the top of the hill they planted the coffin upside down.
That’s the beauty of this book. No matter where you live in Northern Ireland there is something relating to your countryside and if you don’t live here it’s a wonderful journey to take.
When visiting the birthplace of the Titanic there was only a large concrete protrusion that divided the two slipways and rusting rails, a scene of decay and dereliction not even a plaque or a marker. “Had Belfast been an American city it would have cashed in nightly on the Titanic. There would be a Titanic museum and Titanic theme park, souvenir shops selling Titanic mugs, models and t-shirts bearing slogans like ‘Do you Ever Get That Sinking Feeling?’
There are many major changes since Martin put pen to paper.
In 2000 Northern Ireland he observes that strangers meet and probe to ascertain the religion of the other from their name, address or where they were educated “…only in Northern Ireland could a union between a man and a woman of the same colour, nationality and Christian faith be called a ‘mixed marriage’. He meets up with James Galway who considers the Troubles ‘ridiculous’, believes it is high time Ireland was reunited and insists the people have to put the past behind them. “Hating occupies part of your mind,” Galway says, “If you hate this guy or that guy, every day they are renting space in our head and not even paying for it.”
Fletcher travels through Co. Down knocking on the doors of the grand houses of the aristocracy and visiting tiny dwellings off the beaten track always finding a cup of tea and a story. Contrast that with the border areas through Newry not yet a city and on to South Armagh where he met up with the tourism officer in Crossmaglen who took the author on a tour with the mix of the beauty of Slieve Gullion, the fairy thorns, two new golf courses, the the Cardinal O Fiaich heritage centre and much traumatic evidence of the Troubles. He found the same hospitality as I did when I was reporting from Forkhill, Martin discovered that the people of Northern Ireland are a unique breed, the good far outweighing the bad.
A Harrowing Journey
Travelling through Dungiven, Claudy and Strabane, is a history lesson of the times, talking to the people who remain, their tragic memories and their awful experiences but always something positive, the reader is left mesmerised with the details.
Of course Derry/Londonderry is a jewel in the crown of this narrative, “..both Protestants and Catholics are immensely proud of Londonderry. They also like to point out that it was a city when Belfast was a mudflat.” In this chapter Westward Bound, he discovers the awful details of the siege of 1689 when 30,000 settlers huddled inside the walls for 105 days and were “reduced to eating rats which were selling for a shilling each and dogs which were selling for half a crown.”
He brings us up to date via the Second World War, in and out of the shirt factories, hymn writer Mrs Cecil Frances Alexander, marches and riots and President Bill Clinton. In Omagh he talks to bomb surviver Donna Marie McGillion, he goes poaching and attends a cock fight, up the Shankill and down the Falls, tries to track down Republican Thomas ‘Slab’ Murphy without success.
There’s so much that is new to me, Martin takes me places I didn’t know existed, a history I was unfamiliar with and his descriptive skills are certainly a silver lining during his travels around our beautiful country. You could describe this book as a page turner and in these days of being more house bound than usual, well worth while getting your hands on.
His final words. “I remember what an American diplomat had once told me, ‘Northern Ireland was like malaria’, he said. ‘Once it’s in your blood stream you never get rid of it’”.
So does he come back? “I come over as often as I can,” he told me. “Cycled from Belfast to Derry around the Antrim coast last time!” It’s in his blood!
Published by Abacus Books. Available in bookshops and on Amazon.
Green Fingers
I’m fascinated by Stephen Watson’s garden in his nightly BBC sports reports from home. He sits at the window with at first a fairly sparse spring garden but how it has flourished! It’s worthy of an award! But who has the green fingers!
FOOD FOR UNBEARABLE THOUGHT
If this was your son
you would fill the sea with ships
from any flag. But dont worry
He’s not your son
you can sleep peacefully
And most of all of course.
He’s not your son.. He’s just a lost son of humanity,
Dirty humanity, that makes no noise.
He’s not your son.
Sleep quiet.
It’s not yours.
Not yet.
AT LEAST IT’S A NICE DAY OVER MY HEAD – AT THE MOMENT! I HOPE IT’S THE SAME FOR YOU. WE GOT THROUGH THE FIRST FEW WEEKS OF THE LOCKDOWN BECAUSE THE WEATHER IN NORTHER IRELAND WAS SO EXCEPTIONALLY GOOD. IT DOES MAKE A DIFFERENCE IF THE AIR IS WARM AND THE SUN IS AROUND.
GOOD WISHES TO ALL THE FAMILIES FACING FIRST DAY BACK INTO EDUCATION, BOTH THE STUDENTS OF ALL AGES AND THEIR PARENTS WHO HAVE ALL GONE THROUGH SUCH DIFFICULT TIMES.
HOPE THIS MAKES YOU SMILE.
THE SEVEN DWARFS HAVE BEEN TOLD THAT FROM MONDAY THEY CAN ONLY MEET IN A GROUP OF SIX. ONE OF THEM IS NOT HAPPY.