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A Little Bit of Ireland
A Little Bit of Ireland
A Little Bit of Ireland
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A Little Bit of Ireland

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When you get out of bed on a summer's morning, look out the window, if the birds are singing and the sun is shining, why not get yourself a camera and take a walk in the country.

If you see an old school, or people working on the bog, take a picture.

If you see an old lady in a graveyard, or leaving a church, get a picture of her.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJul 25, 2022
ISBN9781685366063
A Little Bit of Ireland

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    A Little Bit of Ireland - John Finan

    Copyright © 2022 by John Finan.

    All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

    Westwood Books Publishing LLC

    Atlanta Financial Center

    3343 Peachtree Rd NE Ste 145-725

    Atlanta, GA 30326

    www.westwoodbookspublishing.com

    Contents

    Acknowledgements

    Dedications

    Chapter 1: The Guitar Kid

    Chapter 2: The Ball Alley

    Chapter 3: The Football Match

    Chapter 4: The Hound of Cuchalainn

    Chapter 5: The Bog

    Chapter 6: The Fairies

    Chapter 7: Christmas Story

    Chapter 8: The Widow Lady

    Chapter 9: The Old Picture House

    Chapter 10: The Shoemaker

    Chapter 11: The Fiddle Player

    Chapter 12: The Blacksmith

    Chapter 13: The Old School

    Acknowledgements

    I WISH TO ACKNOWLEDGE the help of the following people, in compiling this book, A Little Bit of Ireland.

    Maureen Cronin nee Gallagher, Cloonfane, for her photographs.

    Mrs. Brennan Cloonlyon. for her help with the story The Widow Lady. Jim and Carmel McHale, Rooskey, Doocastle, for their help with the story The Fiddle Player.

    Pat Duffy, for his computer work

    My wife Bridie and son Joseph for their patience and support.

    My customers and session musicians for their inspiration.

    Dedications

    THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED to the following people—my mother in law Bridget Grogan RIP, my brother in law, box player Dermot Grogan - RIP, and to my parents RIP.

    To a special lady who gave me grinds in Maths and English, Mrs. Linda Birmingham – RIP

    CHAPTER 1

    The Guitar Kid

    IT’S A SUNDAY MORNING, not a nice morning for John, he looks up at the ceiling - thinking, thinking.

    He heard it all last night, his father and mother shouting at each other, this time last year his mother pulled out because his father gave her a black eye. In the estate where John lives the neighbours are always quarrelling.

    His Mother came back in a few days to look after the family, some family John thinks, looking at the ceiling. Mary, in the next room has a six months old baby boy - no husband.

    His other sister Margaret who lives next door, has two boys, she and her husband have split up a few years earlier.

    Some set up, he thinks to himself, but he is trying to be positive. He turns on the heavy metal music; he looks over at his guitar in the corner and wonders will he ever make it or is it just a dream. Noel and Liam Gallagher made it, he thinks, and they lived in a Council estate in Manchester, so why couldn’t he?

    He loves Bob Geldof- Rat Trap is his favourite track.

    Someday, someday, he dreams, he will get the break.

    Come down John, Your breakfast is ready his Mother shouts, you have to go to Mass.

    Bridget is his Mother’s name, a very religious woman; her family has no time for her since she married his father. A bum and an alcoholic they called him.

    Her brothers, both priests, don’t come near the place.

    His father could never hold down a job, a fancy boy in the pub and bookie office, and could be very nasty in the house.

    It was his mother’s sister in America who kept the family going, sending money and clothes.

    His father couldn’t hold money; it would be spent in the bookies or the pub.

    One night he heard his mother crying to her sister on the phone when his Father did not come home.

    John pricks up his guitar and puts it in the cupboard under lock and key. After Mass he will play it again. It’s not too fancy, he bought it for a fiver at an auction. Thanks to Malachy his friend down the road, twenty pounds put new strings and coat of varnish on it. He hopes to buy a better one when he starts working.

    John sits down at the table, afraid to look up at his mother’s face, as he knows she has been crying. He knows she has Masses read for his father to stop drinking, but it’s no good. She even lights candles for him after Mass.

    John and his mother are very close; when he was younger she would sit up till late telling him stories about her own father who played in a band, and also, her mother who left her and her family when they were very young.

    Sometimes when he came home from school, he would find his mother on her own in his room crying, looking at her wedding photographs. Drying her eyes she would say John, play something for me on the guitar.

    When he would strum the guitar playing Johnny be Good her eyes would light up, smiling she would say You’ll make it John, I know you’ll it make John.

    John’s dreaming is disturbed by his mother voice telling him its time for Mass.

    We’ll walk down by the back of the house she says, We don’t want the neighbours staring at us.

    John stands up and hold his mother’s hand, Plenty of time Mum, We have plenty of time.

    He looks small for his age, he’s just thirteen, but when his mother looks at him and sees the sunshine in his eyes and his clean blonde hair, it helps her forget, for the time being, about the situation she is living in.

    John and his mother enter the church. The sound of the choir brings a smile to his face. He loves to hear the choir and the guitar in the background, he blesses himself and looks up at the choir thinking about a song he heard with the same rhythm.

    His mother looks pious with John beside her as she walks up to the front seats.

    She likes to look at Our Lord on the cross with St Joseph and Our Lady on either side.

    John is still trying to remember where he heard that song before with the same choir music.

    The priest walks on to the altar but John is not paying too much attention to him, he doesn’t like priests.

    He feels they don’t really help people, all they do is tell them how they should live.

    They didn’t give much help to his mother when she needed it.

    Big deal he thinks, looking up at his fancy costume.

    Where did he hear that choir music? – Yes he says, out loud, disturbing his patrons beside him in the seat, it was Michael Jackson in the RDS.

    He watched the concert on television a few years earlier.

    His Mother looks down at him, putting her finger to her mouth saying shush

    Looking at her, John smiles and thinks she should have been a nun

    John looks at the cross with the crown of thorns and says a short prayer

    God if you’re out there, help me Mam, and if you have any time to spare, help me to play the guitar and make a few pounds, thank you God

    Watching his mother walking up the aisle to receive at the altar, he notices all the pious people, some young some old and he wonders what is this religion all

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