Day 9
It has been a couple of days since I wrote in the journal. Every night I’m either too tired or too drunk to bother.
Let's see. Today is Tuesday. The last time I wrote in this was Friday.
When I went upstairs of Friday night, I discovered that the bed had an electric blanket. Fantastic! I can’t describe how delicious it was to be enveloped in that comfortable warmth. I snuggled and twisted and snuggled again. I brought my knees to my chest and then stretched out - wonderful.
I had asked the ladies what time they wanted me up in the morning; 'whenever you get up', they said.
I was up, and down stairs, by about 10:00. I made myself a breakfast of toast and honey, while Annette sat smoking. Every one here smokes a lot and they smoke anywhere. It is a bit of a strange household.
The mother of the household is in hospital. She is 86 and needed an operation (she had it on Saturday) and she is still there, recovering. This is taking its toll mostly on Maura, who is the eldest sibling and the one I like most. She has been to the 'Holy Land' and has 'Yeshua' written in Hebrew on a necklace, which I found most surprising. The others don’t seem to give a damn, but maybe that is just the way they are dealing with it.
I had envisioned going around the walls with a ladder, bucket and scrubbing brush. This would have taken me ages. However, they said they were going to hire a 'power hose', only it wasn’t here yet. 'No worries, what should I do while I wait?' They sent me to the grassy area adjacent to the house, next to the road. It was completely overgrown and absolutely covered with rubbish. Packets of crisps and cans of soft drink, etc. When the kids have their lunch break, they sit on the bridge wall and toss their litter into this area. The school (where both Annette and Maura work) is very close and all the kids go to the shop across the road. The grassy area is beside a stream - which is part of this land - and the stone bridge carries the road across it. There is a path leading down from the bridge (using old stone stairs) and along the side of the stream. It is very nice, and I believe a lot of people use this path. There are park benches along the way. I am not sure where the path leads to, however.
All this land (and the house) was bought by their father in 1935. The house was built in 1835! Wow! This was therefore a rich Protestant farm - maybe landowners that would have prospered through the Famine, while the Catholics around were being kicked out.
The Harkin Household
This town and area is just full of history and republican feelings. On Saturday night, when someone found out that I was Australian, he said (referring to the recent referendum in Australia): 'We fought for hundreds of years to get rid of the Queen, and you get the choice and you say no!'
I picked out rubbish for about three and a half hours. During this time, I had a break or two and lunch as well. At about 16:00, the 'power hose' came, but wouldn’t start. After a bit, another one was brought over by the company man and I got under way. It was getting dark and cold and windy. I got so wet washing the bloody house down. Once it got properly dark, and I had finished a large section, I finished for the evening.
Dinner was cooked (as it has been every night!) and I ate - potatoes, of course! I watched a bit of TV.
I had mentioned that I would go out into the town and a have a pint or two. Every one took this to be a big event. 'So you're going out then, are you?', etc. I wandered out at about 21:00.
Before that, though, something interesting. I haven’t really expressed how cold it was after washing down the wall. My boots were wet through and my feet were sore (though not as much as the other night). My hands were freezing and the gloves were wet as well (as well as my shirt and trousers)
My hands didn’t work properly when I went upstairs to get undressed for the shower.
A strange thing happened in the shower; the (very) hot water fell from the showerhead onto my hands, then dripped down my arm and off my elbows. By the time the water left my elbows, it was cold. This didn’t happen anywhere other than my hands. My hands were that cold, they sucked all the heat from the water. I didn’t know that this was possible.
An aside: A couple of days ago I mentioned pins and needles in my left thumb. Well, they are still there! I have lost some feeling in that thumb, I am sure of it. The pins and needles sensation is present when my hands are warm (which is rare enough). I haven’t lost any movement in my thumb, which makes me think I might be imagining the loss of feeling.
Annette went and found some clothing that I could wear to save my own clothes getting dirty. I took them upstairs and realised the tracksuit pants and one of the tops were black and made by Adidas. In all the photos of the IRA, the men wear black tracksuits made by Adidas, with the addition of a balaclava and an AK-47.
I used the tracksuit pants over the jeans, but I couldn’t bring myself to wear the top. I wore the other things. They gave me three layers!
Before I went out, Annette slipped me £20 and told me not to tell anyone else! I was shocked and told her that I wasn’t working for money but she said not to worry about it - I did a good days work, she said, and deserved it!
I went into the first pub I came across. It was tiny - The Grind in Israel was bigger than this - but done up very nicely. The bar was in the centre, backed up against a wall, with a semicircle shape. There was a picture of Michael Collins on one wall and another of Robert Emmet on another! I was taken aback. I had a Guinness and sat - mostly in silence - through it. It tasted much better than the one I had in Dublin, but I think this might have something to do with the fact that, in Dublin, I was drinking on an empty stomach. I had trouble forcing this Guinness down because of the big meal that I had just finished.
I talked a bit with the publican, but mostly just looked around. It was a pub that has regulars and very little visitors. The next pub I was in was The Persian Bar. I had heard from Fergus that the Persian sometimes have live music (traditional) on Saturday nights. There was no music, but I stayed for a pint and started talking to a couple of people. Characters, that’s what they were. 'Jo In The Morning' was one, but I can’t remember the other one. In total, I had four pints and was pleasantly drunk. I could have got drunker (as demonstrated last night) however I felt sick from 2L of Guinness mixing with the extraordinary about of food that I had eaten.
The Persian is quite a long dark bar. Hanging from the roof were things like shovels for the peat bogs and old rifles, etc. There was a picture of Michael Collins down the end. There were two options on the condom machine in the toilet. One was 'The Irish Rover, Champagne flavoured condoms for THE PATRIOT'.
After my third pint, I new that I was getting slightly on the tipsy side, so I asked the bar man (who was American and my age) for a glass of water. It must have been between songs, because about five people stopped talking and looked at me in stunned silence. The guy next to me said: 'You're having water!?' He laughed then, along with another person. Feeling a bit red faced, I said to the Yank 'er...you better make that a Guinness'. The man who questioned me paid for it.
I was at the pub until closing, which was about 1:00 ish. I’m not sure if there is an official closing time. Someone told me the pubs never close properly, only when the Garda came in to throw them out. I made my way home to creep through the house as only a drunken person can. I went into the sitting room (where the fireplace is) to find Annette and Maura watching TV! I did an Oscar performance talking to them, and then went and had something to eat.
I woke up with enough time to have toast and honey for breakfast and get ready for mass.
Mass was good. I'd never been to a mass before. It was very revered. To have everyone do everything at the same time was quite strange. If everyone actually meant with all their hearts what they were saying, it would be wonderful worship.
Mass finished at 12:00 and we came home. Apparently on Sunday after Mass, they have a full English breakfast in this household. I didn’t start work with the 'power hose' until 1:00! I did about four hours of work and was happy to go to bed after dinner was eaten. I haven’t really worked all that hard since I’ve been here, especially today (Tuesday).
I’m getting tired. I finished every outside wall around the house over Sunday and Monday. On Monday afternoon, I finished the rubbish. Fergus wanted to go for a pint with me.
I had four pints and three vodka and oranges in a variety of pubs. Fergus took me to all his locals and tried to get me smashed. He succeeded. The spirits are 35.5mL per serve! That puts the English to shame.
I’m going to bed. I’m up to Monday evening.
Let's see. Today is Tuesday. The last time I wrote in this was Friday.
When I went upstairs of Friday night, I discovered that the bed had an electric blanket. Fantastic! I can’t describe how delicious it was to be enveloped in that comfortable warmth. I snuggled and twisted and snuggled again. I brought my knees to my chest and then stretched out - wonderful.
I had asked the ladies what time they wanted me up in the morning; 'whenever you get up', they said.
I was up, and down stairs, by about 10:00. I made myself a breakfast of toast and honey, while Annette sat smoking. Every one here smokes a lot and they smoke anywhere. It is a bit of a strange household.
The mother of the household is in hospital. She is 86 and needed an operation (she had it on Saturday) and she is still there, recovering. This is taking its toll mostly on Maura, who is the eldest sibling and the one I like most. She has been to the 'Holy Land' and has 'Yeshua' written in Hebrew on a necklace, which I found most surprising. The others don’t seem to give a damn, but maybe that is just the way they are dealing with it.
I had envisioned going around the walls with a ladder, bucket and scrubbing brush. This would have taken me ages. However, they said they were going to hire a 'power hose', only it wasn’t here yet. 'No worries, what should I do while I wait?' They sent me to the grassy area adjacent to the house, next to the road. It was completely overgrown and absolutely covered with rubbish. Packets of crisps and cans of soft drink, etc. When the kids have their lunch break, they sit on the bridge wall and toss their litter into this area. The school (where both Annette and Maura work) is very close and all the kids go to the shop across the road. The grassy area is beside a stream - which is part of this land - and the stone bridge carries the road across it. There is a path leading down from the bridge (using old stone stairs) and along the side of the stream. It is very nice, and I believe a lot of people use this path. There are park benches along the way. I am not sure where the path leads to, however.
All this land (and the house) was bought by their father in 1935. The house was built in 1835! Wow! This was therefore a rich Protestant farm - maybe landowners that would have prospered through the Famine, while the Catholics around were being kicked out.
The Harkin Household
This town and area is just full of history and republican feelings. On Saturday night, when someone found out that I was Australian, he said (referring to the recent referendum in Australia): 'We fought for hundreds of years to get rid of the Queen, and you get the choice and you say no!'
I picked out rubbish for about three and a half hours. During this time, I had a break or two and lunch as well. At about 16:00, the 'power hose' came, but wouldn’t start. After a bit, another one was brought over by the company man and I got under way. It was getting dark and cold and windy. I got so wet washing the bloody house down. Once it got properly dark, and I had finished a large section, I finished for the evening.
Dinner was cooked (as it has been every night!) and I ate - potatoes, of course! I watched a bit of TV.
I had mentioned that I would go out into the town and a have a pint or two. Every one took this to be a big event. 'So you're going out then, are you?', etc. I wandered out at about 21:00.
Before that, though, something interesting. I haven’t really expressed how cold it was after washing down the wall. My boots were wet through and my feet were sore (though not as much as the other night). My hands were freezing and the gloves were wet as well (as well as my shirt and trousers)
My hands didn’t work properly when I went upstairs to get undressed for the shower.
A strange thing happened in the shower; the (very) hot water fell from the showerhead onto my hands, then dripped down my arm and off my elbows. By the time the water left my elbows, it was cold. This didn’t happen anywhere other than my hands. My hands were that cold, they sucked all the heat from the water. I didn’t know that this was possible.
An aside: A couple of days ago I mentioned pins and needles in my left thumb. Well, they are still there! I have lost some feeling in that thumb, I am sure of it. The pins and needles sensation is present when my hands are warm (which is rare enough). I haven’t lost any movement in my thumb, which makes me think I might be imagining the loss of feeling.
Annette went and found some clothing that I could wear to save my own clothes getting dirty. I took them upstairs and realised the tracksuit pants and one of the tops were black and made by Adidas. In all the photos of the IRA, the men wear black tracksuits made by Adidas, with the addition of a balaclava and an AK-47.
I used the tracksuit pants over the jeans, but I couldn’t bring myself to wear the top. I wore the other things. They gave me three layers!
Before I went out, Annette slipped me £20 and told me not to tell anyone else! I was shocked and told her that I wasn’t working for money but she said not to worry about it - I did a good days work, she said, and deserved it!
I went into the first pub I came across. It was tiny - The Grind in Israel was bigger than this - but done up very nicely. The bar was in the centre, backed up against a wall, with a semicircle shape. There was a picture of Michael Collins on one wall and another of Robert Emmet on another! I was taken aback. I had a Guinness and sat - mostly in silence - through it. It tasted much better than the one I had in Dublin, but I think this might have something to do with the fact that, in Dublin, I was drinking on an empty stomach. I had trouble forcing this Guinness down because of the big meal that I had just finished.
I talked a bit with the publican, but mostly just looked around. It was a pub that has regulars and very little visitors. The next pub I was in was The Persian Bar. I had heard from Fergus that the Persian sometimes have live music (traditional) on Saturday nights. There was no music, but I stayed for a pint and started talking to a couple of people. Characters, that’s what they were. 'Jo In The Morning' was one, but I can’t remember the other one. In total, I had four pints and was pleasantly drunk. I could have got drunker (as demonstrated last night) however I felt sick from 2L of Guinness mixing with the extraordinary about of food that I had eaten.
The Persian is quite a long dark bar. Hanging from the roof were things like shovels for the peat bogs and old rifles, etc. There was a picture of Michael Collins down the end. There were two options on the condom machine in the toilet. One was 'The Irish Rover, Champagne flavoured condoms for THE PATRIOT'.
After my third pint, I new that I was getting slightly on the tipsy side, so I asked the bar man (who was American and my age) for a glass of water. It must have been between songs, because about five people stopped talking and looked at me in stunned silence. The guy next to me said: 'You're having water!?' He laughed then, along with another person. Feeling a bit red faced, I said to the Yank 'er...you better make that a Guinness'. The man who questioned me paid for it.
I was at the pub until closing, which was about 1:00 ish. I’m not sure if there is an official closing time. Someone told me the pubs never close properly, only when the Garda came in to throw them out. I made my way home to creep through the house as only a drunken person can. I went into the sitting room (where the fireplace is) to find Annette and Maura watching TV! I did an Oscar performance talking to them, and then went and had something to eat.
I woke up with enough time to have toast and honey for breakfast and get ready for mass.
Mass was good. I'd never been to a mass before. It was very revered. To have everyone do everything at the same time was quite strange. If everyone actually meant with all their hearts what they were saying, it would be wonderful worship.
Mass finished at 12:00 and we came home. Apparently on Sunday after Mass, they have a full English breakfast in this household. I didn’t start work with the 'power hose' until 1:00! I did about four hours of work and was happy to go to bed after dinner was eaten. I haven’t really worked all that hard since I’ve been here, especially today (Tuesday).
I’m getting tired. I finished every outside wall around the house over Sunday and Monday. On Monday afternoon, I finished the rubbish. Fergus wanted to go for a pint with me.
I had four pints and three vodka and oranges in a variety of pubs. Fergus took me to all his locals and tried to get me smashed. He succeeded. The spirits are 35.5mL per serve! That puts the English to shame.
I’m going to bed. I’m up to Monday evening.
posted by Bren Carlill @ 9:38 AM
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