Hang On and Hand On

“With peeling paintwork and overgrown courtyards, Calke Abbey, tells the story of the dramatic decline of a country house estate” says the National Trust. (The NT should read a catalogue of buildings in Ireland that have dramatically declined, as chronicled by Robert O’Byrne, The Irish Aesthete.)

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The Sash

Yesterday’s post ended with an IRA marching song dating from the 1916 Easter Rising. For balance this morning I’d like to include an old melody that was adopted by Loyalists – The Sash.

Yellow Menace

Two holders of the Victoria Cross are buried in Margravine Cemetery, see Local Hero and Another Local Hero. There are other war memorials including a column for staff at J Lyons killed in The Great War and a curved wall naming those those killed on the Home Front in WW II. The Lyons memorial was… Continue reading Yellow Menace

Tommy Jameson

In a recent post, On Appro, I referred to my grandmother’s brother, Tommy Jameson. My Bellew grandfather was listed in The Field magazine among the best 150 shots in an article celebrating 150 years of that magazine’s publication. He represented both England and Ireland shooting clay pigeons and was a fine sporting shot. However, his… Continue reading Tommy Jameson

A Tooth for a Solex

Maybe all dentists in the 1950s and 60s were like Mr Behan in St Laurence Street in Drogheda (above). He had a handshake like a vice – the ritual of shaking hands was bone crunching. My grandfather thoroughly approved; “you need a powerful grip to pull teeth”.

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Two Birthdays

St. Borchill is a now obscure Irish saint. She must have been better known 250 years ago as the church at Dysart in Co Louth (above) bears her name. The church was built in 1766, early as anti-Catholic legislation had not yet started to be repealed. The site is carved out of a corner of… Continue reading Two Birthdays

In the Soup

The family snap I posted a few days ago brought back some memories of growing up in the 1950s and 60s in rural Ireland that might, perhaps, amuse you.

Are you in the Picture?

Here is a family snap I took at Barmeath in 1963. It says a great deal about my skill as a group portrait photographer. I must have been incredibly slow and fiddled with the camera a lot to have elicited such expressions of fierce concentration.

Big Bang Theory

I enjoyed sounding the gong to announce meals at Barmeath in my childhood. Under my grandmother’s instruction my technique improved from loud bashing (think Top Cat summoning the gang) to a subtler, gradually increasing crescendo, beating around the edge of the gong, culminating in a final stroke, fortissimo, to the centre.

Belize Revisited

“I pray thee, Rosalind, sweet my coz, be merry” (As You Like It) and she was when we met in a bar near Embankment station.