Raheny's Loss

Rev. Jim Carroll
Rector of All Saints' Raheny
1992-2013
Raheny's loss, on this occasion, will be nobody's gain except maybe for Jim and his family. And I'll bet they will miss Raheny as much as Raheny will miss them.

Jim has been Rector here for the last 21 years and is enormously popular, not just within his own religious congregation, but throughout the village and its catchment area, and also in Coolock which is part of the Raheny Church of Ireland parish.


He has been privileged with a fine house and an absolutely magnificent church.

The church has, however, needed significant renovations to the roof and belfry, and the heritage status of the building has called for work of the highest standard. This led to a serious funding drive, to which the Roman Catholic parishes of Raheny and Killester contributed. The peak of this activity was surely the bible reading marathon on the 400th anniversary of the publication of the King James Bible.


After keeping the parish, and Raheny at large, informed of progress in the fundraising, the appeal sign has now been converted into the thank you sign above. The money was raised, the roof was fixed and the bell is now ringing again.

The Church of Ireland Parish Newsletter has come out with a special issue covering Jim's period in Raheny and his imminent departure. I'm told that Andrea has done a marvellous job on it and the proof of this and of Jim's popularity is that the entire issue has now run out. I'll come back to it here when I get my hands on a (hard or virtual) copy.

Jim and Valerie's departure also rates a column and a half over two issues of the Raheny News (21 & 28/4/2013). The issue of 28/4/2013 also led with a headline item on the fundraising described above.

My own contact with this church is relatively recent and dates from my (now departed) 90 year old cousin from Cill Éanna across the road filling me in on one aspect of Jim's colourful background. I later ended up more or less accidentally taking part in the first King James marathon. Some time after that episode I was run off church grounds by the BBC who I was informed were making a film about Jack the Ripper inside in the church. Dramatic stuff, but it turned out to be not quite so dramatic. Full marks to Jim, though, for getting involved in this interesting enterprise. By way of a parting shot, in the closing months of his ministry, he gave us Martin Luther, in a compelling reminder of the this heretic's continuing relevance to modern Christianity.

He took his last service at 10am on Sunday (28/4/2013), and what a memorable service it was. The church was packed to overflowing - standing room only, and the mutual involvement between Jim and Valerie on the one hand and the community/congregation on the other was celebrated in great style.

I think it is probably the only Protestant service I have ever been at, but I don't expect ever to be at one which surpasses it. It was a fitting tribute to Jim and Valerie's dedication to their congregation over 21 years (and in deference to Jim I had better make some effort to give Jesus a mention!).


Jim's last stand: a last look at the church notice with his name "up in lights".

Time to call in the painters.

---

Update - November 2013

And the painters came and went. And the parish awaits its new Rector.

Virtual Penalty Points

I was just checking out the fountain trough at the Ambassador/Gate/Rotunda in Google streetview (thanks Niall McAuley) when I noticed that Google offered the option of travelling north on the roadway on the east side of Parnell Square.

The Google arrows on the ground confirm this. But the traffic arrows tell you you are not allowed to do it.

So might we be picking up virtual penalty points here to be cashed in who knows when?

At the Pearly Gates, perhaps.

God forbid.

Warhead

This is a picture of a Warhead, in fact a WMD Warhead.

Whether it is also a Cowardly Warhead is something you will just have to figure out for youself, preferably after reading this link.

More Virgins

At this stage we should be used to divine apparitions and moving statues and the like. We have had our fill of them over the years.

But they're off again. This time it's the Unnoticed Virgin of the Blackstairs (above). I'll let the Kilkenny People describe it for you.

Situated just two kilometres outside Graignamanagh near St Mullin’s, rising high above the picturesque Carrigleade golf course are the Blackstairs Mountains. A bizarre formation in the rock, gravel and the heather, with a scale in the hundreds of metres, is striking at a glance – and even more so when gazed upon for longer. It appears to depict the Madonna and Child.

Damn the bit of Virgin I can see, but then I'm an unbeliever and She may be a bit selective in the company She keeps. I'm sure the local Parish Priest, the Bishop, and all the local non-RC denominations will have their hands full making sense of this one. Not to mention Fáilte Ireland in the year of The Gathering.

Unbeliever and all that I may be, that didn't spare me a recent encounter with a Virgin of my own (after a manner of speaking).

I answered the front door recently only to find that the Sumac tree in the front garden had been blown over, and uprooted beyond repair, by the storm of the previous night. The only thing left was to cut it up and burn the logs during the next cold spell.

I may, however, have to draw the line at interfering any further with the trunk of the tree (below). No doubting what you're looking at there.


So, what, I ask myself, is she trying to tell me?

Should I

• stop Knocking Knock? I think I'll await my RIC great-grandfather's report on that apparition before I take it seriously (pace Canon Horan and Pope John Paul II).
• put it up on eBay? But then there is the trade descriptions act and all that sort of legal stuff to contend with.
• burn it? It might be the other lad trying to tempt me, but then again it might not.

or

• just keep trying to improve on my Photoshopping? Yes, that sounds just about right!

---

Update 23/8/2013

Well, I thought I should report progress.

The virgin is gone and the tree stump is ageing like the picture of Dorian Gray in Oscar's attic. In fact, I'm beginning to think there is something obscene about it but I can't quite put my finger on it.

The 134th anniversary of Knock has come and gone and the Pope has not restored the silenced to ministry.

So, who knows what next?

Homer nods ... again

Lost for words: portrait of
literary giants up for grabs


Click for larger imageThe caption reads

LITERARY GIANTS: From left, Louis MacNeice, TS Eliot, Ted Hughes, WH Auden and Stephen Spender at the Faber party

So who's who then? Five names, three people. Into won't go.

Ah, the arrows. Now I see all five (below).

Why did they first hide two?

The same photo twice, the first with the wrong crop.

Oh dear !

Yesterday the Central Bank, today the Sunday Independent.

Pillars crumbling.

Good thing Brewster isn't still around or they'd never hear the end of it.


Click for larger image

A Government Easter Egg

Last Sunday, in the very early morning, the clocks went forward. That was probably just as well as everything else seems to be going backward.

It emerged in the course of this gravity defying exercise that Alan Shatter is the Minister for Time. Clearly not the most taxing element in his portfolio, reminding people twice a year, to go forward in the Spring and backward in the Autumn.

That got me meditating on the distribution of Cabinet portfolios, and the Alice in Wonderland world we live in, and it occurred to me that this particular portfolio might be more appropriate to another member of Cabinet.

But then I realised that that particular Cabinet member is already the Minister for E=MC². Giving him charge of the speed of light, which is supposed to remain a constant, would surely constitute a conflict of interest of the highest order?


What a confusing world we live in.

Fasten your Seatbelt

This is the Kincora Boys Home in Belfast. In the 1980s it was exposed as a centre for paedophile activity and some staff were tried and imprisoned.

In the light of what is now coming out all over the UK and the Channel Islands about the extent to which this type of activity was covered up, the inquiry into Kincora has been reopened. It remains to be seen whether this will lead to the unmasking of the many powerful and famous people, both from north and south of the border, who are alleged to have availed of its services.


This is Kincora in Abbeyquarter, Ballyhaunis, Co. Mayo. A different Kincora entirely and one of very happy memories. It's just that the re-emergence of the name Kincora, and the bay windows, reminded me of some youthful adventures in my father's home town.

The house was a child's paradise. At least, one room of it was. And that is where my older cousins' toys were kept. They had gone off to become priests and I had the run of their toyboxes, full of model soldiers and the like.

What comes to mind every bit as much as the toys was the day I took the small tricycle out onto the steep hill road outside the house.

I leapt up on the tricycle and went shooting down the hill. It was only then that I found out the tricycle had no brakes. And at the bottom of the hill was the main road which could have any class of a vehicle trundling or speeding along it.

What was I to do?

I was quickly gaining speed and had got beyond the point of putting my foot into the spokes - that would have taken me straight to the moon, or beyond, and left me permanently toeless. And even if there was no traffic on the main road when I hit it, my speed by then would have ensured a serious injury.

There was only one thing to do. There was a long high bank along the right hand side of the road.

In the flash that it took for this looming disaster to hit me, I turned the wheel and crashed into the bank. I emerged battered but not broken.

The real mystery is how a child who could make an intelligent, dangerous, but necessary decision in a flash, turned into today's ditherer and procrastinator.

One for my psychiatrist, perhaps? Or will I just wait till I finally get to the other side, if there is one?


Kincora, the steep hill road, and the disappeared bank.

---

Update 6/9/2013
And just in case you thought I was imagining the bank, today my cousin Carmel produced a photo of herself and myself sitting on it at around the time I'm talking about and in the company of the two family dogs.

NoBo

For a good while now, Pearse Station, in the centre of Dublin, has had this jazzy integrated café on the platform.

"Which platform?", I hear you ask. Why the South Bound platform of course. Isn't that where all the quality travel from and it's not called SoBo for nothing.

Now, there are lots of myths about the DART. There is even supposed to be a DART accent. Quite how that could be is very hard to understand when you look at the variety of ABCDE areas through which that train passes. Of course, the quality live on the Southside and it is to them that the DART accent refers. Some of them might be jumped up quality, but quality nonethless for the purpose of this exercise.

This DART accent corresponds to what in my day was the Mount Murrion accent. This was a sort of neutralised transatlantic accent which signified that you at least, and perhaps even your people, were neither up from the country nor residents of the inner city.

So the SoBo café went with the accent, so to speak. And those freaky Northsiders could always risk missing their train if they stopped for a cup of coffee, as a northbound DART could have come and gone in the time it took you to negotiate the underground passage from southbound to northbound platform.

Now, at last, there is an end to this discriminatory foolishness. The northbound platform has acquired a Mocha Bar and can confidently cock a snoot at it's SoBo rival. So there.

Where is it ? No. 13

To see all the quiz items click on the "Where?" tag below.

---

Dr. Larkin has done it, again. See his solution in the comment below. Constance's dog it is.


I only noticed the dog recently. I had photographed the monument, well, Constance, previously but never noticed the dog.

But here is a man with a sense of history who keeps his eyes open as he travels the city. Northside or Southside, no matter.

Congratulations Felix.

Want to try your hand at No.4. I had thought this one of the most difficult as I only noticed it by chance myself, but I now realise it can be solved by pure logic and an imaginative use of the computer from the comfort of your own home.

Happy St. Patrick's Day

Lift Up Your Hearts

This is an age when children as young as whatever are now largely computer based: playstations, laptops, iphones, ipads and what have you.

So imagine my amazement, when I went out for a walk the other day, to see the above on the pavement in front of me.

I don't know how far back BEDS go (what are beds Mum?), but they were certainly a permanent feature of my days as a child.

Hopping on one leg, pushing a polish tin (what's a polish tin, Mum?)through the numbers.

Cheer you up, it would.

Sé bhur mbeatha

This is a photo of Dublin by night tweeted by Commander Chris Hadfield, who is a Canadian Astronaut, currently living in space aboard ISS as Flight Engineer on Expedition 34. He is expected to be in command of the next Expedition 35.


His tweet, with its Irish language content, evoked immediate warm responses from below leading to his own further response above. You can see his original tweet with ground responses here and his own further response and further responses from the ground here.


Commander Chris Hadfield - website

Noted

"This morning I had another talk with the President of the
European Central Bank and here is the paper
which bears his name upon it as well as mine."
(Hover the cursor to see the original)

Accident Black Spot ?

Howth Cliff Walk, Co. Dublin

Crisis Eile

This image appears in the current edition of Phoenix magazine. It is in the jollity section where the magazine takes the mickey bigtime. It has grafted Ireland's real Minister for Europe, Looselips Lucinda Creighton, onto a press conference by the fictional Irish EU Commissioner, Maeve Kelly Clarke (Bláthnaid Ní Chofaigh), in the TG4 tv series Crisis Eile.

So far so good. But look at the EU flag on the lectern. It's upside down. How clever of Phoenix to add this little satirical touch. We all know flying the flag upside down indicates a crisis. Nice touch.

This is how it should be in real life. The top point in the five pointed star always points upwards. As someone who has had to deal with EU Commission demands for signage, and with protocol for distinguished visitors, it wasn't long before I realised that this, apparently vertically symmetrical, flag could actually be flown upside down, but that this had better not happen on my watch.

So, out of curiosity, I went and had a look at the original TG4 shot, and, lo and behold, it was the guys in TG4 who did the clever thing.

Well done guys (incl gals). I have already drawn attention on this blog to the upside down flying of the EU flag at the French and Hungarian embassies in Dublin and at the Dublin office of the EU Commission itself. Sinn Féin are probably also in the sin bin in this regard. So it's nice to see this little lapse put to constructive use for a change.

At least, I assume TG4 did it on purpose. Otherwise we will surely have a real crisis eile on our hands.

Kangaroo Butter

I don't know if anyone remembers upsidedown rice and Kangaroo Butter. They were part of an Australian food marketing campaign in the last century (but within my lifetime).

Well, the upsidedown rice was a clever joke but the Kangaroo butter backfired as many people though it actually came from Kangaroos and were not prepared for this indigenous innovative leap.

With this sort of stuff in the back of my mind (it never leaves you) I was taken aback, just before Christmas, at the Panda sign above which suggested that pet pandas should now be binned.

I was even more taken aback at the post Christmas revelation that you can now apparently get your pet dog in a tin in your local supermarket.

Not only that, but it comes in convenient chunks and apparently accompanied by a chicken and some gravy. Whatever will they think of next?

For any non-Irish-speaking readers, I should explain that MADRA is simply the word for dog in the Irish language, and it has been chic in recent times for products to bear an Irish language name. Fiacla toothpaste, for example, springs to mind.

For an older generation there is always the story of Moggerly's sausages but that is probably best left for another day.

And hopefully the current horseburger controversy will not last long enough for that product to attract an Irish sounding name.

The Versatile Blogger's Lovely Blog

I have to finally confess defeat.

Last October, Paul Waters, the writer, kindly nominated me for two awards: The Versatile Blogger Award and the One Lovely Blog Award. I consider the nominations an honour coming from someone with Paul's background and current output. You can check him out here.

To actually claim the awards two sets of conditions had to be fulfilled. And therein lay the problem. The first condition was to nominate 15 other blogs for the awards (and they in turn would have to nominate a further 15 and so on) and the second condition was to share 7 random things about yourself.

I fell at the first fence and couldn't come up with 15 other bloggers on whom I could rely to pass on the obligation. Unlike many other bloggers I only follow very few other blogs and even then don't have any contact with most of those bloggers.

The 7 random items was not a problem and you can see those below.

So I took my case to conciliation and arbitration, with Paul in the chair, and the finding was that the 7 random items would suffice and I could display reduced size award logos in one blogpost only but not on my template.

So here are the awards

and here are the 7 random things about me:

1. Slept overnight in a police cell in Longford
   
2. Was stood up by Hoppalong Cassidy in Butlins
   
3. Skipped a visit to a bra factory in France to visit the local newpaper
   
4. Got a French computer in Paris to respond to English language voice commands.
   
5. Bounced the President of Ireland (Mary Robinson) off a VIP luncheon guest list in London.
   
6. Lived on Yeats's Isle of Inisfree (for a week)
   
7. Accepted an offer from an RUC man to look after my (southern registered) car outside the Guildhall in Derry for a whole day

Thanks Paul.

BINMAN 2

You will be familiar with the Me and the Binmen saga from a previous post. If not go read it for background.

You will have gathered that I am not at all thrilled with the crowd Dublin City Council handed over bin collection to. The binmen toss the bins all over the place and the company seems to have a very under-developed sense of customer relations.

Well, I was struck this afternoon when out shopping by the number of red coloured bins which were appearing around the place. On closer inspection these were City bins and it looks like I am not the only one passing an adverse judgement on the present crowd.

These emptied bins were neatly stacked against the wall where they did not impede traffic, pedestrians, or residents exiting or entering their driveway. I must keep an eye on this new crowd. I haven't yet looked at their terms but it is clear that it is worth some people's while changing over.

City apparently have the South Dublin County Council contract and are big in Galway. They are putting the wind up somebody, or some crowd are not happy with their success as evidenced by a recent arson attack on their lorries in Dublin.

This will be one to watch.

Meanwhile you might like to contemplate my own translation of a verse from Patrick Pearse's Ode to a Naked Binman.

Fornocht do chonac thú	The Naked Binman
... Do chualas do cheol, a bhinne na binne, is do dhúnas mo chluas ar eagla go gclisfinn. ...	... The sweetest sound in the morning Is made by the emptying bin All that whirring, compressing and churning A furious glorious din. ...

Serenity in 2013

After Dusk - Shanganagh Vale from Crown of Martello Tower No.7
31 December 2012
Wishing you as much serenity as you can muster in 2013.

The Office Party

Happy Christmas 2012

Christmas Display @ "TEMPTED Size 16-28"
Raheny Shopping Centre, 2007
Just to shift a little this year from Santa and Rudolf and the Sleigh to the Gaffer Elf in Santa's workshop. It is clear that in this era of austerity, high-wage-cost elves have had to be let go and some lower cost locals, themselves in danger of extinction, have been drafted in. And worse, in view of the increase in austerity crime, elaborate alarm and protection systems have had to be installed at the North Pole atelier.

Nevertheless, Santa is expected to start out on his usual trip on Christmas Eve, though some children may have to wait till the New Year before he reaches them as the Reindeer herd has had to be downsized as an economy measure.

As Rudolf himself is getting on, and not up to pulling the loads of nether years, Santa may have to leave gift tokens rather than the actual requested items in a significant percentage of cases. In this, he has promised to have due regard to equitable burden-sharing and rewards based on performance during the year.

Be Good in 2013

Dear Santa

This is Santa in Supervalu Raheny. He not only looks benign, he is looking after his junior fans in the run up to Christmas.

He has installed his own postbox in the store, and children who write to him will get a reply all the way from his home at The Grotto, Santa's Secret Village, The North Pole.

Replies will be posted for collection on the special North Pole noticeboard in the store.

As we all know, all that sherry and Christmas pudding which is normally left out for Santa on Christmas eve has had him working out at the North Pole Gym right through the year to get into shape for the following year's journey. So, this year, Santa is simply asking for some carrots for Rudolf to keep him up to speed on his long journey right around the world.

The instore Santa Post has been a long tradition in this country. I got a letter from Santa myself as far back as 1950.

I noticed recently (on Twitter) that the Royal Mail in the UK are running such a service this year. However, not only do you have to put a stamp on the letter to Santa, which is reasonable enough, you have to enclose a stamped self-addressed envelope as well. Double revenue for the Royal Mail as I pointed out to them. But, of course, they would not deal with that matter beyond tweeting me that Santa needed a return address. Sly and evasive. You can follow the spat here.

It was then pointed out to me that An Post are running a similar service. I really wondered if they would have the nerve to try and rake in revenue from a second stamp.

Well rest assured, they are not as greedy or as unfeeling as the Royal Mail. A stamp is required on the outgoing letter only. Santa's reply is delivered for free. Well done.

Just noticed my recent tweeting of this post has appeared on the homepage of An Post (below). The site shows the latest tweet, either tweeted or retweeted, by An Post, so when they next tweet I'll be gone. Meanwhile I should thank them for an extra three hits on this post.

Forty Footsie

Bathing club at Forty Foot
swims against tide by
retaining ban on women

The above statement was a headline in this morning's Irish Times, which reported that the Sandycove Bathers’ Association, formed in about 1880, voted 24 to 17 not to allow women to join. That's a turnout of less than 20% of the membership, by the way.

The Forty Foot is a bathing place beside the Martello Tower which figures in the opening lines of James Joyce's Ulysses and in which he stayed for a brief few days.

The relatively secluded bathing place had traditionally been for men only and few, if any, wore togs. But then as women began to assert their rights to all sort of things, bathing became mixed and the only remaining relic of oul decency is the changing facilities owned by the club and available only to members.

So, as things stand, women, at least those who came by public transport, will have to change in the cold outdoors and risk having their gear nicked while they are in swimming.

The photo above is taken from the Battery (fort) which was an integral part of the Tower fortification. As they go, this battery was particularly large and, being situated on a small headland, its field of fire covered a very wide range, from Dún Laoghaire itself right round to Dalkey.

In the overlaid satellite image below, the yellow/green area is the Battery, the red area the Tower, and the blue area the bathing place. The orange area is the house built, and once owned, by the architect Michael Scott. One side of the house is curved in sympathy with the shape of the Tower.

Satellite overlay of fortification today
The military plan below shows the layout of the fortification when in use. You can click on it for a larger image and then click on that larger image again to enlarge to full size, which is the minimum readable size.

Military Plan of fortification 1862
And if you have an interest in these fortifications, don't forget to visit Martello Tower No. 7 on Killiney Hill Road, which fortification is unique in its situation and design, and which has been fully restored to its original state.


Update 14/3/2014
The club have now reversed their policy and voted to admit women as full members. The Irish Times this morning humorously put up on their Facebook page a photo taken in the past by one of their photographers, Paddy Whelan (RIP), and Facebook immediately took down the paper's page. When their Communities Editor, David Cochrane, produced a Times Togs Overlay, the page was restored. You can view the original photo here, but don't tell anyone.