testing

 Nice sunny September morning. 15degrees clcius

 Hello visitors. If here is any.

I have been quite ill since my lat visit here.  I was i the Mater hospital in Dublin with double pneumonia. I thought for awhile that I was on the launching pad.

But I have recovered more or less.

I now have breathing difficulties and currently using 5 litres of oxygen 24/7

I like using my Pride Colt mobility scooter for local shopping Although     I have gone to the Mater hospital in town and home again on the scooter        

Book worth reading

 I have read a great story called Rebels, by Peter deRosa a story of 1916 from the Howth Gunrunning to and beyond the 1916 Easter Rebellion.  This book has been described as watching blood seeping from under a door and then opening the door.

 After hospital stays I shall be writing again shortly

Hello all,

Its been awhile.  I have things to tell you. I have been quite ill including having a heart attack recently.    I'll add more to the blog soon.  Thank you for your interest. 

Don't go away.  Stay in touch.

Dublin, in flags and flitters.

The Bicycle

A few weeks ago my breathing problem was bad and I decided to try to strengthen my chest muscles by cycling.

So I placed an advertisement on Facebook asking if anyone had one for sale.

Sure enough after a few days a woman told me she had one, so I walked to where she lived, about a mile or so away and me out of breath by the time I got there.    I looked at the bike, seemed to be okay so I paid the woman's male companion.  No I don't know if he was her wife or partner, or even her brother, I didn't ask.  I just wanted that bike.

Ah but my problems were just beginning.   You see it must be 30+ years since I rode a bike, and I was that much younger then too...   well 30 or so years younger.  But I believed it would be just like the last time I rode a bike.

Alas I was fooling myself.   I wheeled the bike to the edge of the kerb, sat on it, with a little difficulty as I'm not as 'bendy' as I used to be.    Eventually I got myself reasonably comfortable, I had also forgotten that some bike saddles felt like you were sitting on a razor blade.    Yep, this saddle was the same.  

So putting one foot on a pedal I started to move in, intending to cycle around the neighbourhood before heading on home.

Ah how we fool ourselves at times.

As I moved off the bike started to wobble.  I couldn't figure out why because I had cycled since I was 13 or so, with that 30+ year break.    So why was the bike misbehaving like this?

Off I wobbled with one foot on the ground for safety.  

Eventually I put two feet on the pedals to cycle properly.  Bad mistake.    I couldn't make a complete circuit of the pedals without wobbling so bad I was going from one side of the road to the other.   What was wrong with the bike that it was wobbling?  

So being rather fond of life, I decided to walk some of the way, and sit in a kind of sidesaddle posture the rest of the way.  

As I arrived back on my road my garden gate never looked so welcoming.

But I don't give up easily, ah no not Jim.  You have to have good sense too do that.   So I tried very short rides, all wobbly.

I started to get a bit discouraged with this cycling business.

But thinking if I put a little money into it might help my determination, I bought some paint spray and a friend did a great job on it....  a sort of metallic purple.    Yeah I know it sounds horrible, but I thought it looked very nice.      Then I bought a mirror, and a back and front light.   I was all set and determined to go.

Today those thing's that you put on the tyre valves arrived in the post.  You know the kind that light as you go along at night.

I brought one out to try it on.  

But I couldn't.  

The bike had just been stolen!

Anyone got a bike for sale?  One that doesn't wobble please.

Jim

Just a little....

Here we are again, just passing in time for now.  Have a look down the bottom at the banner.  We have an excellent forum for Dubliners, ex pats and anyone interested in Dublin or in just having a chat.



I thought I'd just show you a video clip from a few years ago.    This is Sean and some local views.

And another photo of us three brothers from 12 years ago.

And here's a recent photo of Tony and me at the back (me on the right) and Ellen and Marie in front.   We were having a meal at Parnell's GAA club in Coolock.

Dear old Dublin town.   

Enjoy the views, and if you are overseas, do come and visit soon.

Seeya soon.   Enjoy the game below, and if you want to contact me my address is jiml5@eircom.net

Hello again!

Hello once more.  Just to let anyone that drops in know that I have not given up yet.

We as a family have had our ups and downs, but I'll only bore you with mine.    I have emphysema (did I spell that right?) which was diagnosed nearly 8 years ago when I was taken to Blanchardstown Hospital in Co Dublin because I was having severe breathing difficulties.

I was an in-patient there for about 10 days or so and I must pay tribute to the staff at that hospital.   They are very good at what they do..  well to me anyway...  and are spotlessly clean.

So eventually I was allowed home on meds, oh yeh and they had discovered that I have heart failure too, and type 2 diabetes.    Well if you're going to stay in hospital for a few days you may as well make it worthwhile, eh?

The time passed and I managed the conditions, until recently when the emphysema got worse.   I couldn't walk up a flight of stairs without getting breathless.    So on 27th this month, yesterday, I went to see the local nurse who gave me a breathing test and told me the bad news.  I have been moved to a new stage of emphysema and started today on new meds.   Soo far the new inhaler seems to be working.   I went out for awhile twice today and didn't get out of breath so severely.   Maybe when this new inhaler has been used for a few days there may be an even bigger improvement.   Fingers and everything else crossed.

So that's me more or less up to date.   I have nothing of great note to report as you can see.   I haven't won the lottery or anything.  I'm still poor oul Jim.

If you are reading this or any of my posts and like it, encourage me, drop me a line at jiml5@eircom.net and I'll be sure to get back to you.

Goodnight now.  I'm hoping that I can convince my two brothers and two sisters to get involved in the blog.  It would be nice if it was a family blog I think.  

Here's a photo of the three brothers.  That's me at the end laughing like a hyena, Tony is in the middle and Paul is nearest to the camera.     I'll introduce you to my two sisters and some more of the family as we go along.

Thank you for taking the time to read my blog.   Please do drop in again.

Hello again

Hello visitors and family, and welcome back.

It's been awhile.  Lots of things been happening and memories to be remembered. I'll get cracking on those as soon as I can.

A quick visit for 2016

Hello all.   This is just a quick visit on 1st March 2016.   If anyone would like me to continue the blog or to add anything, please let me know HERE

Thank you.

And yet again

Lots of water has flown under the bridge since my last entry in this blog.   To tell the truth the passing my our dear sister Chris and our darling Brianna knocked the stuffing out of me and I just hadn't the heart to sit bhere and write.

But its about time the blog was worked on again.

So its time for me to continue to write so that family and those who come after us will know something of what life was like in Dublin from about 1950 onwards.

So its my intention, and I hope the rest of the family will join me, in describing my earliest memories, my first day at school, memories of childhood and teens, social life, good friends, school teachers who left an impression, our first television set, radio programs that interested us, our local shops and their owners, etc etc.....  in general a document that our grandchildren will read and learn from, and their children too.

Now to do some thinking.   Back soon I hope, and I hope that others of the Leonard Family will contribute too.

Thank you for visiting.

Back again

Well after such a long time here I am again to continue writing posts in the blog.

I stopped writing after our sister Chris passed as I lost interest in so much because of her passing.  People will say that time heals all pain.  I find that it doesn't, but what time does is teach you how to deal with the pain...  doesn't take it away though.

I'm hoping that my brothers and sisters will add to the blog as we go along, so as to not only share our memories, but to make this blog a historical doument for the whole family.

I also hope that this will mark a continuation of the blog from where we left off.

Here's a recent gathering of the family in the Goblet in Artane.  From left, Marie, Ellen, Paul, Tony and me.

Dublin, a Cruise through the Streets, Part One

Here's a short video I made around Dublin as I rode my bike with a small camera mounted on the handlebar.



- Jimmy.

Chrissie

I would also like to add my thoughts about a sweet sister and pal who left us so suddenly 3 weeks ago tomorrow.

Thinking back to this time 3 weeks ago, it's hard to believe she was here in my home and we were laughing so much. Marie & Paul were here too. She came to stay with me the night before. Normally she would stay for a few weeks but this time she was adamant she was going home on Friday night. She was nervous being away from her home after the time she was rushed into hospital in June. We almost lost her then but God knows what a good person she is and he gave her extra time here with us.

I dropped her home on Friday night and 4 of her 7 sons were there and we had a laugh and a chat and a good slagging match, aimed at all of us. Her last words to me in person were "Drive carefully and text me when you get home to let me know you arrived home safely...and lock those doors!!" She always warned me to lock the car doors in case someone would jump in beside me and abduct me while I was doing 120 down the motorway. I sent her a text when I got home and I was texting her on Saturday morning. Then came the phone call that turned my whole life and the lives of all of my family upside down.

Looking back over the last couple of weeks, it's like God was moving Chrisie's loved ones into position like chess pieces on a board. She got to see her brother Tony and niece Emma, who came over from America in June to see her when she was in hospital. She loved seeing Tony and even though she couldn't speak, she indicated to him that he had put on weight and she thought this was funny!She got to see Jim and Sean and Antoinette and she loved that visit. She told me she really enjoyed that. Gary, her son, was home from his trip to Africa, her son Keith and his fiancee and her grand-daughter Chroi decided to travel from Cork to Dublin on a whim the day before she died.

As Jim already mentioned, she was glowing and I asked her on Friday night what the secret of her eternal youthful complexion was and we came to the conclusion that it was "Oil Of Oxygen".

My last impression of Chrissie is a happy mother surrounded by her family and loving it. I think about her every day. I miss her smile, what a smile!! I miss her wisdom, I miss everything about her. My world is a sadder place without her but I have no doubt that she is blessing the lives of others who were there to meet her as she passed over, especially our Mam & Dad and her baby Aisling.

"It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, (protecting its sanity), covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But, it is never gone. "---Rose Kennedy---

This is nice and applies to Our Chris's passing.....

Parable of Immortality ( A ship leaves . . . ) by Henry Van Dyke - 1852 - 1933

I am standing by the seashore.

A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean.

She is an object of beauty and strength, and I stand and watch until at last she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sun and sky come down to mingle with each other.

Then someone at my side says,

'There she is gone!

Gone where? Gone from my sight - that is all.

She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and just as able to bear her load of living freight to the place of destination.

Her diminished size is in me, not in her.

And just at the moment when someone at my side says,

'There! She is gone! ' ,

there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout:

'Here She comes!!'

.

Goodbye buddy, God be with you till we meet again.

.

Ellen.

Our precious sister ~ our Chris ~

As Marie says below our sister Chris left us... left us broken hearted. People talk about bereavement, but that to me is just a word right now....my 'bereavement' is to be broken hearted at the loss of my little sister.

Yep I'm the 'big brother' of the bunch, and Chris was my little sister.

The day after she passed on I was sitting here feeling a whole mixture of emotions.... unspeakably sad, lost, angry, not believing that my little sis had passed on.

Thinking of our childhood in particular I remembered all of the family as we were before we went our separate ways as the kids of all families do eventually. And I remembered Chris and her place in the family as a daughter to our parents, and a sister to the rest of us. And my thoughts were in the main filled with happy memories. One I remembered was when we sat playing cards at home and when Chris lost she kicked up holy murder... oh she hated to lose at playing cards. I remembered the chicken I brought home after the crate it was in with it's brothers and sisters fell off a truck and I helped the driver round them up -- all except one which I brought home. Okay so I'm a chicken thief! But this is not about me so lets move on a bit. That fluffy little chicken grew up to be a big cockerel which seemed to take a dislike to poor Chris. One day Chris went out to the back garden and the fowl committed a foul deed... it attacked Chris. If Ma and Da hadn't been there Chris might have been injured.... though knowing Chris perhaps the cockerel might have came off worse in that contest. The cockerel disappeared next day and I never saw Dad looking so innocent... could he have committed a foul deed? Nah, not Dad.

I remember how Ma used to make sure the girls didn't go out unless they were spick and span.... and Chris took a lot of pride in the huge ribbons Ma used to put in her hair.

And I remember other times too.... times when I thought my sisters were going to slaughter each other over a cardigan or something that one had accused of swiping from the other.... and as a mere male I took the obvious steps in such situations -- I got out as fast as I could... only returning after peace had been restored.

Moving on I come to a few short days before Chris passed on. My daughter Antoinette and I had picked up my grandson Sean from the creche near Chris's house. Sean and Chris took to each other immediately. I don't think I've ever seen Chris look so good. Her skin seemed to glow and there was that old twinkle in her eye, and Antoinette and Chris were soon laughing while exchanging memories that I wasn't invited into.... girl stuff I suppose. After leaving with a promise to be back soon Sean said he loved Chris and wanted to go back again to visit her and her doggie. Sadly that was a promise that couldn't be kept...

The night before Chris passed on she and my other sisters, Ellen and Marie, as well as one of my brothers Paul had a great time together.... for which I am so grateful.... that her last full day was such a happy one. The last picture in the slide show below shows Chris on that day. Marie and Paul are also in the photo.

Chris, I was looking through my photos and found some of you as a little girl... and as a woman.... but always as my little sister.

I miss you so badly no words can describe.... but this little slide show, of all of us that I put together helps.... but just a little.

Now, the slide show dedicated to the little girl with the pageboy haircut.... I love you little sister.... I always have and wish I had told you.... wish so much I had hugged you that last day we met and parted saying I'd see you in a few days..... but I hope you can see into my heart.

Death is nothing at all
I have only slipped away into the next room
I am I and you are you
Whatever we were to each other
That we are still
Call me by my old familiar name
Speak to me in the easy way you always used
Put no difference into your tone
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow
Laugh as we always laughed
At the little jokes we always enjoyed together
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was
Let it be spoken without effort
Without the ghost of a shadow in it
Life means all that it ever meant
It is the same as it ever was
There is absolute unbroken continuity
What is death but a negligible accident?
Why should I be out of mind
Because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you for an interval
Somewhere very near
Just around the corner
All is well.
Nothing is past; nothing is lost
One brief moment and all will be as it was before
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!

- Jim.

CHRIS

AS I SIT HERE THINKING ABOUT OUR WONDERFULL SISTER WE LOST LAST SATURDAY 8/8/09....THERE IS SO MANY WONDREFUL THING'S I WANT TO SAY ABOUT OUR CHRIS BUT I FIND IT HARD TO TYPE THE WORD'S.....I DID'NT JUST LOSE A SISTER LAST WEEK I LOST MY BEST FRIEND NOTHING OR NO ONE CAN REPLACE HER EVEN DO SHE WAS SO SICK SHE WAS ALWAY'S THERE FOR ME TO LISTEN...WE LAUGH A LOT I MISS CALLING HER EVERY DAY AND ASKING HER WHAT SHE THOUGHT OF THE SOAP THAT WAS ON TV THE NIGHT BEFORE...CHRIS HAD 7 BOYS GREAT BOYS THEY ARE THEY NEVER GOT INTO TRUBLE WITH DRUGS OR THE LAW CHRIS ALWAYS WANTED A GIRL AND SHE GOT HER WISH BUT HER WISH WAS TO COME TO TEARS HER BABY ASHLING DIED JUST BEFORE BIRTH AND WE ALSO NEARLY LOST CHRIS BUT SHE GOT THROUGH THAT SAD TIME THEN HER HUSBAND DROWNED ON HIS 46TH BIRTHDAY BRINGING MORE SADNESS INTO HER LIFE BUT SHE CARRIED ON AND RAISED HER BOYS WHO ARE LOVELY YOUNG MEN NOW ALL DOWN TO CHRIS HARD WORK....ALL I CAN SAY AT THIS TIME IS I LOVE YOU CHRIS AND YOU WILL NEVER BE FORGOTEN......YOUR LOVEN SISTER MARIE XXXX

Seán, the safest driver in town.

And he's only 3. :-)

This is Seán 'driving' his dad's truck in Melville.



- Jim

We are now a Family Blog

Hello to all of our visitors.

From now this will be a family blog, in that all of my sisters and brothers will have access to the blog to post, add elements or do anything.

I hope also our children will agree to become co-authors as well.

We will continue to keep this blog going with our memories, photos etc.

In time we hope that this will be a blog that our grandchildren... and their children will be able to look on and enjoy... learning about their family in the process.

However, the blog will continue to have posts which will be of interest to our usual visitor from the older blog (click HERE) as well as our new visitors here on this blog.

We thank you for visiting and hope you enjoy what you read.

Replica Post

The following is a replica of a post that appears HERE.

Just a note to say that if anyone is experiencing unwanted popups (never heard of a wanted one) there's a replica of this blog. If you'd like to go there clicking HERE will bring you to it.

I'll keep both blogs going until such time as I find out where the popups in this one are coming from and removing the cause.

Meanwhile here's a little slideshow showing Seán my grandson as well as some photos taken locally.



Seán's poor face? I thought you'd be wondering about that. Some weeks ago he fell heavily against the sharp edge of a corner. We thought he was very badly injured but thanks in no small part to being treated quickly and efficiently by my son Jimmy who's a paramedic the injury was kept to an absolute minimum. Seán has a scar as you can see, but it's fading quickly as my daughter, his mother Antoinette, treats it daily.

And this post started as a short one about popups on my other blog site? :-)

Hello again :-)

Hello again!

Where have you been eh? It's been awhile, but at last I feel more up to continuing my blog.

Before continuing with my stories I thought I'd introduce a video clip made at Summerhill, the place where I was born and where much of my old memories are based. The video clip begins at the junction of Summerhill and the North Circular Road.

But this is a Summerhill much changed from the Summerhill of my childhood. It'll be obvious which are the newer parts when you compare the obviously older parts which have hardly changed.

Summerhill in Wintertime....

Liz me cuz in Oz.. see if you can spot where you were born. That part of the street is wider now, but the bus stop is still in the same place, or very close to it's original spot. I can see my old school... the house where the old dinner house was is still there too. A close look will show the new houses going down in a slope where the old 27 Steps used to be. And how the junction of Summerhill and Gardiner Street has changed.

Back soon with a yarn or two......

Memory of Ma by Marie

To the right is a photo of our Ma, taken in O'Connell Street Dublin about 1950.

I wanted to include this photo with the nice memory and tribute to Ma that my sister Marie wrote below.

The words that follow are Marie's......

"My ma was a wonderful woman she cared so much for us kids i will never forget her this is my little bit about my ma....

My ma was the best ma anyone could ever have I love her with all my heart....now I want to share my ma with you she would love that.

I remember my ma as the most beautiful woman I ever seen. She was loving and caring to all she met. She loved us kids and would do anything for us.

I remember when it was Jim's birthday she got him a cake she even put candles on it we did not know much about birthdays at that time but ma wanted to make it special for Jim cos he was going into hospital. He had an operation and we kids looked on as we seen that look between mother and son she loved him so much as she did all of us.

But Jim was going to have an operation and she was very worried about him because she did not know what the outcome was to be.

It was great that evening when Jim came home. I dont know where he had been, maybe at work but ma told us not to say a word to Jim so she went into the kitchen and brought out the cake with all the candles lighting it was great because it was the first time we seen a cake with candles.
She told us all to wish Jim a happy birthday. Now as I think of it it might have been Jim's 16th she made such a fuss over it wanted it to be right and it was great we all looked on as Jim blew out the candles and we had lemonade what a evening that was.

Then Jim had to go into hospital to have this operation, and we as kids did not understand what this operation was about but we seen ma was worried and told us all to pray for Jimmy.

I remember going to the hospital to see Jimmy and seeing ma asking him how he felt after the operation. She listened carefully to what he said but Jimmy was a young boy and he said he was grand.

Then ma got talking to another young boy in the next bed to Jimmy and was asking him what was wrong with him and was his ma coming up to see him. The young boy was from Artane Industrial School and had no one to come and see him. He told ma about things that had happend to him in the school. Ma felt sorry for this young boy so much that every time she went to visit Jim she talked to the young lad in the next bed to him, her heart went out to the young boy.

She held that young boy in her heart and as the years passed she always talked about him to us kids saying how lucky we were to have a home and a ma I think till the day she died she remembered that young boy in the next bed to Jimmy cos at times she would talk about that boy.

Ma loved everyone and I know she is watching over us kids to this day. I will love you ma for ever....kisses from your daughter Marie."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks Marie. Some lovely memories there.... memories to treasure. And I agree with something you said in the first line.... she would love us to share our memories of her.

I'm sure she's smiling now.

Our Dad

Remembering our Dad today.

Our dear Dad who went to sleep peacefully on this day, 5th May 1983, aged 61 years.

I wrote little notes of memories, poems and little other bits and pieces in tribute to you Dad. But my thoughts kept returning to one that I always associate with you....

So once more for you Da....

Only a Dad..........but the best of men,
Only a dad with a tired face,
Coming home from the daily race;
Bringing little of gold and fame
To show how well he has played the game.
But glad in his heart that his own rejoice
To see him come home, and hear his voice.

Only a dad... of a brood of four.
One of ten million men or more.
Plodding along in the daily strife,
Bearing the whips and scorns of life
With never a whimper of pain or hate,
For the sake of those who at home await.

Only a dad... neither rich nor proud.
Merely one of the surging crowd.
Toiling, striving from day to day,
Facing whatever came his way.
Silent.... whenever the harsh condemn,
And bearing it all for the love of them.

Only a dad... but he gave his all
To smooth the way for his children small.
Doing... with courage stern and grim,
The deeds that his father did for him.
These are the lines that for him I pen,

Only a dad............... but the best of men.

Remembering you today, Da... you are forever in our hearts.

Jim ~ Tony ~ Marie ~ Chris ~ Ellen ~ Paul

A ramble around my town.

Before I continue with my stories, yet another showing to my readers of a bit of my city -- I offer this video clip.

Much of this video before 7 am on an Easter Sunday morning, so Dublin will look very quiet to you.

The video starts with street scenes from around Dublin followed by landmarks such as Dublin Castle, St. Patrick's Cathedral, St. Stephen's Green, The Natural History Museum, Merrion Square.

There are a few photos from the Barenaked Ladies concert at the Olympia theater. Then the rest of the footage is from Howth (pronounced Hoath - rhymes with both).

Music: Eoin Coughlan - Ancient Breathing
Flogging Molly - May the Living (Be Dead in our Wake)
BNL - Wind It Up (Live in Dublin)
Nomos - I'm Going to Set You Free

Enjoy.



See you soon.... more stories and memories yet to come.

Dublin. My Fair City

And so after a long break from posting I move on.

I have a lot of stories to tell yet, so many that this blog will never end so please stay with me and share in my memories. You might laugh with me, be shocked by things I have yet to tell you about, you may even be very surprised by some of my memories, particularly if you happen to know me personally.

So far I think I have painted in part a city of want... a city of hard times. And indeed it was exactly like that for many of us just as I tell it.

But for those who have never actually seen or been in my city I want to show that it's a beautiful city. (But then I'm biased.) It's a vibrant city that never (or seldom ever) sleeps. A city where the ancient past and the modern can be seen and experienced side by side -- a city of beauty and one steeped in history.

Dublin has moved on quite a bit since the time Im writing this blog about. And to give you some idea of what she looks and sounds like I've embedded a video clip below. The musicical backing is by Dublin band U2.

Now you can get a taste of Dublin city as she is today! This video clip shows a range of the sights to be enjoyed in and around the city of Dublin. If you're looking for the ancient and modern, a lively city with a vibrant nightlife, a glimpse of an ancient civilisation, a cultural feast, a musical odyssey, stunning scenery, and a spectacular coastline - Dublin has all of this... and more!

Take a look for yourself!

Enjoy.



I'll be back soon with more stories, and maybe I'll show you yet more of my city as I have above.

Thank you for your loyalty.... and for your interest in the stories of a young Dublin gurrier.

A final farewell Jem.

It's one week now since Jimmy, my brother-in-law left us to go to a far better place.

He is now resting near my father, mother and other family members in St Fintan's in Sutton. If you walked a bit down the slope at St Fintan's, and looked to your centre left, and if the light was just right you would be treated to the lovely serene view that you see here to the right. My father used to say that it was "The healthiest graveyard in Ireland!" because of the clean and fresh sea air.

Jimmy appreciated that kind of humour too.

I mentioned below that Jimmy loved the tenor voices of Mario Lanza and Luciano Pavarotti. So I will now bid a final adieu to you Jem.... no one that ever knew you will forget you..... walk with God my friend.

To Jimmy

This is a photo of Jimmy McLoughlin singing in a bar in Spain. A happy day for him and for all who were with him.

But on Tuesday 30th of October 2007 Jimmy left us.

Many from the Summerhill area drop in to read this blog, many who will know Jimmy. Bide a moment and remember him.

And to help you remember him, he lived at one time in 42K, right next door to Terry Kelly's pub which later became Hourican's. It stood at the corner of Lower Rutland Street and Summerhill. And Jimmy went to Rutland St school.

Jimmy, (or Jem as we used to call each other -- both of our real names being James) was a husband to Joan, a dad, a grandad, a brother, a brother-in-law...... a man of a big, loving family.... and a son still grieving at the passing of his dear mother May and of his father John.

He was a friend with an ever cheery word.. and I will miss that as well as the good natured slagging we sometimes shared when he regularly dropped by my home.

He shall be missed.

But a few words of a poem often help us ponder.... and to realise that...

There is no death!
The stars go down
To rise upon another shore,
And bright in heaven's jeweled crown
They shine for evermore.

Jimmy loved music and song. He enjoyed the singing of Dean Martin and the tenor voices of Mario Lanza and Luciano Pavarotti, a love of tenor voices I believe he inherited from his father who had a lovely tenor voice himself.

So I will leave you now Jimmy.... I will leave as Pavarotti the tenor maestro performs in a way that you loved.

Farewell Jem.... this is for you.....

A little Irish culture

It's now one week since I heard of the passing to her eternal reward of our friend from the GB, Sarah.

Sarah loved and was proud of her Irish roots.

So before I return to write again about the dear old mean streets of Dublin, and about my early life's experiences in those streets. I want to say a final farewell... adieu.. slán to Sarah (or Sally as she's known to her family)

This is not a mark of mourning at her passing, but a celebration of her life.

A piece of ceol agus rince.... always part of a true Irish way of bidding a final fond goodbye.

I think she would like this, it's the original Riverdance as it was seen for the first time here in Dublin.

For you Sarah.

Farewell Sarah

A guestbook, a shoutbox, the comments to posts in blogs. Who gives them much thought? Not many I'll bet. Most leave a note and that's it. Some don't even bother.

.

But you can meet some special people through writing in a guestbook. I and many others met such a special person.

If you read through one of my shoutboxes or many of the comments to my posts you'll see the name Sarah.

I first 'met' Sarah on another guestbook, the one for the Gardiner St Website Sarah was a daily visitor there, spreading her cheer and chat with the other regulars on that guestbook. Yes it's that kind of guestbook, one where people from all over the world meet, get to know each other and become friends. I chose a yellow rose here because in a recent topic on roses Sarah said her favourite is yellow.

Now Sarah has left us. She went to her eternal reward on 10th of this month.

This beautiful yellow rose is for you Sarah.

I offer my deepest sympathy to her family, friends and everyone who knew and loved her.

We will all miss you Sarah, but are comforted in knowing that you are in a better place. May God bless you and all who love you.

~Ár deis Dia go raibh a n-ainm.~

He's moved!

He isn't here at the moment. We're just minding some of this stuff that he has all parcelled up to move to the new blogger page.

We can't understand why he's moving at all, but who can understand humans anyway?

But he asked us to mention to anyone dropping in (he thinks we can talk too!) that he's working hard moving all the stuff from the old blog to the new one. Said something about the new one being easier because of something called elements.

Anyway, give him a few days to get everything sorted and he'll be back waffling about his time as a kitty... oops that should be a human kid.

Oh yeh, and he said the web address will remain the same.

He left a game for you humans to play with, it's at the bottom. Nothing for us though!

Anyone got a bit o' fish or something to donate to us minders? The parcels are comfortable to sleep on but no good for eating.... we tried.

Bye for now. (Right gang, lets see whats in that big square one... )

I'm on the move

But only to the new blogger.

The address will remain the same and none of the posts should change.

However the add-ins like guestbook, map and other bits and pieces should look neater by the time I've completed the move. At least I hope so.

The blog might look a bit different in a day or two, but please bear with me. Things can only get better. (fingers crossed)

Very soon I'll be back with my stories of growing up in Dublin's inner city.... I've been doing a lot of thinking and remembering, so drop back often if you're interested.... and even if you're not because you might become interested. And believe me, if you have even the slightest interest in old Dublin I have lots to tell you.

Seeya soon.

Sean's First Steps

A new Leonard on the block. This is a little video clip of the newest Leonard -- Sean's First Steps

Memory of a 3 year old Marie

The corner you see in the picture is one of those corners I mentioned earlier when I referred to The Four Corners of Hell. In this photo you can see one of the pubs (this one was "The Green Kilt") that stood at the four corners -- the other three corners are out of picture. Summerhill is the street in picture and the side of the pub is in Lower Gardiner Street, 5 doors from where Marie was born. (The pub is No 121 Lr Gardiner St. Marie was born in No 116 five doors to the left, out of picture)

Our Gran used to sell fruit and sweets from a stall at that corner of Summerhill and Gardiner Street. The 'stall' was one of those old high prams with the big springs and different sized wheels back and front. The fruit and bags of sweets were set out on a board, usually a breadboard, stretched across the pram and passers by bought apples and pears for one penny each and a bag of broken rock was two pence.

She used to go to sweet factories and buy big lumps of boiled rock that had spilled over the edge of the boiled-sweet making machine. Rock that had gone hard and all out of shape. (Rock is that round stick of toffee that you see on sale at seasides) She would bring these slabs of rock home where she had this little hammer that she used to break it into smaller pieces, small enough to fit in your mouth. Then she would fill small paper bags or sometimes paper cones made of a newspaper page and that's how the sweets were presented for sale.

Click to see Gran here: "The Mother of all the Leonards"


And here's where Gran used to buy the fruit, at the Fruit Market.

Now on with Marie's memories.....

"I remember when I was about 3 years old my gran would take me to the fruit market with her. We would have to go to the markets very early in the morning before the fruit was sold out, and she would push me along on a big old pram that she would put all her boxes of fruit on. Because she used to sell the fruit we did not get any free samples, but to see the big apples and the oranges god did they make my mouth run water.

As I say, she used to sell sweets as well. I loved her weighing scales and I remember she bought me a toy one. It was yellow and red. One day when I was in her basement flat, I think it was beside The 27 Steps, I wanted to weigh her sweets on my weighing scales and she would not let me so I threw a tantrum and smashed my weighing scales. Well all hell broke loose then. God did I get into trouble for that. My mam said, "Mary dont give her anything else she is too bold." Mary was my Grans name.

But she was very hard on us sometimes my Gran,and then at other times she was very good.

I remember another time I was walking down Sean McDermot street with her and the priest was passing us and because I did not genuflect to the priest I got a wallop across the head and was told, "You are to always respect the priest!" God if only we knew what was to come out in later years about the priests I wonder would I have got that smack in the head.

Anyway if we where bold, like I often was, I was told I would be brought to the priest and he would stick me to the floor. We where so afraid of the priests power. Or we would be told we would be put in the Magdalen Home and never allowed out again. The things we would be told was scary.

But best of all I loved when my Gran would bring me into Willie Barratt's (a shop two doors away from where I lived in Gardiner Street) and buy me a glass of milk and snow cake. I loved that. When I think back the cake would melt in my mouth and the milk was lovely because it was in a real glass not a jam jar."

Ah sure they were the days.....

You'll Never Walk Alone

This song has special meaning to me, and although the street scenes are of Liverpool they could well be my Dublin in the 1960s. Hard to tell them apart. They're the kind of streets I grew up in and the kids might well be my friends and me.

Thank you to Webbie over at World Link in Gardiner Street Dublin for pointing me to this video clip. Visitors who click on that link please drop in to the Guest Book there and get to know the nicest people you could ever hope to meet.

Our Dad.....our forever friend

On this date 24 years ago at about 9.30pm I looked up to see a head shaking sadly from side to side. No words were immediately spoken, but I knew....our Dad had passed on to his eternal reward.

Scalding tears of unspeakable grief drenched my face. My Dad, my Friend was gone!

But the pain was eased a bit in the knowledge that he was no longer in pain....that he was once again united with the woman who was his life's partner, our Mother, who had so recently left us too... and they must be happy together again once more.

That's why I chose the photo above. It's a picture of them together in life, now they are forever together.

And we remember... with love and pride in our hearts.

I have chosen a poem for this day. It's the original version of the poem by Mary Frye. It strikes a familiar chord.

Do not stand at my grave and weep,

I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die.

And thats where Dad is for me.... all around me... and always living in my heart.

You see he is as it says at the top of this post..... my forever friend.

The Loanshark.

In an earlier entry I mentioned something about a man who made my mother cry. I want to speak a bit about that man, the situation that caused my Ma to cry, and what happened after that.

The man was a loanshark. But this time my mother didn't have a loan from him. You see he also went around offering to colour old black & white family pictures and for that you repaid him weekly. The weekly repayments never seemed to end. This guy was well known and disliked in the area. But he was tolerated. They had to tolerate him because so many people depended on the money he used to lend, even if it was at an astronimical interest. At that time there was no legal protection from these guys. They could charge what interest they liked on loans.

Anyway, my Ma gave him a black & white picture of her mother and father to colour and he did the job. Not a great job, but to have a family picture in colour and in a nice frame was a thing to be proud of back then.

He called every week for his payments. A small bald headed man who wore thin wire rimmed round spectacles, always carried a thin briefcase, some kind of folder under his arm and he always seemed to carry his hat in his hand rather than on his head. I remember noticing that his head seemed to be perpetually sunburned. He would rap on the door and call out, "The picture man!" and Ma would open the door and give him his weekly payment. He never spoke, just took the money, wrote something in a notebook and went on his way.

But one week Ma was short of money and couldn't pay. He stood back from the door and shouted that he wasn't doing this for nothing. That he wasn't a charity! I remember him shouting that he knew my Dad was working and that Ma was well able to pay. And they were just the printable things he said. I was just a kid but I could see that Ma was very upset and that she was crying. I remember wanting to hit that guy, but he went off still calling over his shoulder that she better have it (the payment) next week, and on the double or there'd be trouble. Ma sat at our one table with her head in her hands and cried and I saw how she shook. She asked me not to say anything to Dad when he came in, so I kept quiet.

But I brooded about what had happened, and especially about how upset Ma had been.

Meet my three my pals from that time. In no particular order there was Sean (Seanie) who was the oldest, he was about a year older than me and I thought he was very wise. He read a lot of books. So did I but his were never fiction. He was a mine of information on WWII which he seemed to read about an awful lot. He was the quiet one, but the one who no one crossed because he spoke quietly and struck out if you annoyed him. Someone who could frighten. But like I say, I liked him and sort of looked up to him too.

Then there was Jimmy (yes another one, I was called Jimmy then too). Jimmy was the skinny one, or at least he was skinnier than me. But Jimmy was a great singer. I liked him for that, he seemed to sing all the time and sometimes Seanie would give him a wallop to shut him up. It wasn't a hard wallop, just hard enough to shut poor Jimmy up. Jimmy always took it in good part and now that I think of it I don't think I ever say him in bad humour. In fact he used to slag off Seanie just for the hell of it.

Paddy made up the third of the four of us. Paddy was a dreamer. He lived the western movies that we used to go to see at the local cinemas, or picture houses as we called them. We never called them cinemas. There were three main ones that we went to. The Maro (in Mary Street), The Plaza (in Granby Row) and The Lec (the latter short for the grand name of "The New Electric Cinema", which was in Talbot Street) If we saw a movie (oh yeh, we didn't call them movies, they were 'the pictures') about Zorro for instance then Paddy would be wearing a Zorro mask and cape and carrying a sword (home made of course) until we went to see the next western. There was one I recall about the Alamo and Davy Crockett. Well Paddy had to get that furry hat too, the one with the tail hanging on the back. I know they had a proper name but we just called them Davy Crockett hats.

Then there was me of whom you might know enough, and if not I'll talk more at a later date.

Now, the four of us used to sit on the steps outside the tenements in Summerhill. I think they call those steps 'the stoop' in the US. Seanie told me that. So a few nights after what had happened to Ma I talked about it as we chatted on the steps. Seanie said we should do something. Jimmy agreed, but then again Jimmy always agreed with Sean, it was good for his health. Paddy said he should be run out of town. I definitely wanted something done. So we talked about it and made a plan that I honestly didn't believe would work, and also I thought it would take too long and I wanted justice now.

But we carried on with the plan. Out at the back of where we lived there was a very big yard, long grass growing through the skeletons of rusted bits of bikes,old iron bedsteads, a place where kids weren't allowed to play and grown ups didn't go. And there was one big feral cat living amongst this junk. We set out to make friends with the cat. We brought it bits of food and we sat nearby while it ate until eventually it's fear of us seemed to go away and it would come and beg food from us, and rub itself against our legs. I remember that although the cat had become more or less friendly that I was still a bit wary of it.

The day dawned, as they say in all the best stories.....

Along one side of that yard I spoke of there was a high (to us) wall, and running beside the wall was the lane that led from The Diamond to Gardiner Street, where we lived. We sort of hung on the wall, leaning partly over it with our legs hanging inside so that only our heads and part of our shoulders could be seen from the lane. Beside us sat The Cat. He (or she) had never been named, it was always The Cat. We knew that the loan shark (or the picture man, take your pick -- he was both anyway)came from The Diamond, up the lane and into Gardiner Street, on foot of course, only the wealthy had cars. He may have been wealthy but didn't have a car. I remember what he was wearing. He had on a long overcoat that was called A Crombie, an expensive coat at the time, and as usual he carried his hat in his hand. His bald head like a beacon as he drew closer.

We remained very quiet until he drew level with us who were now above him, along with The Cat. Just as he was immediately below us Seanie dropped the bomb, which was The Cat! Maybe it was because of all those war books he read or something, but his bomb aiming was perfect. The Cat landed right on the picture man's bald head! Ever see a cat when it's scared? It sort of makes a hump and digs it's claws in? Well that's exactly what it did. Only when it dug in it's claws they were into yer man's bald head. He actually screamed, which I suppose frightened the cat even more with predictable results and when he tried to knock it off his head that cat dug in for dear life. The result to the picture man was that his bald pate was lacerated with cat scratches. His head was covered in blood and I remember seeing it on the shoulder of his Crombie coat too. The Cat took off and jumped the wall beside us and the picture man ran in the direction of Gardiner Street. We ran through the house and into the street to see where he was heading, and a woman had already stopped him and she applied first aid. It was just scratches but they bled a lot, and most of all the whole thing gave him a major fright. I mean it's not every day that a cat lands on your head out of the blue.

We remained friends with The Cat, or maybe that should read The Cat remained friends with us even after how we had treated it so mean that one time. It followed us about until eventually we saw it no more and assumed it had either died or had run off with a mate.

The picture man? Yes he came back the following week and he had sticking plaster still covering his scratches. We were standing at our hall door when he called and Seanie told him not to call anymore. Jimmy got a fit of the giggles, Paddy told him to get out of our street and I remember him looking at me and I think even then he knew why he had been ambushed by these four kids. But Seanie took it upon himself to explain anyway.

I don't think Ma ever paid for that picture (no one ever called afterwards for the money), and as far as I know someone in the family still has it.

So that was the tale of a cat and four boys, who as it happens didn't turn out to be gangsters after all. Close but not really. The picture at the top is the scene of the 'crime', X marks the spot.

Next time I think I'll talk a bit about The Four Corners of Hell and how we used to have a ringside seat after the pubs closed and the fights started.

Till then.... look up if passing a high wall!

Happy New Year 2007

Hello everyone, and a Very Happy New Year to All.

I'm sorry it's taking so long to continue with the story, but since my last post here I had a bit of a relapse in that I haven't been feeling the best. But then again it's that kind of weather here in Ireland, the kind where it seems everyone has colds and sniffles of some kind. As well as that the doc did tell me that it would be about 6 weeks before I'd be back to my old self again, so I'm trying to be patient (no pun intended :-)

But all of this has given me a lot of time to do some thinking and remembering and that has resulted in more stories that I have yet to tell.

Then too, just the other morning I was taking a short walk and met an old schoolfriend. Philly and me started primary school in Rutland Street on the same day, we were in the same classes and had the same teachers. Back then you had to have a 'partner' in school (think it was to make it easier for the teachers to keep us under control) and anywhere you went either in the school, in the playground, or on outings to the local church you had to hold hands with your partner. Philly was my 'partner' in school.

Anyway, Philly and me (should that be Philly and I? My grammar was always the pits) got to chatting after greeting and wishing each other the compliments of the Season. We must have looked like two lunatics standing there in the biting wind chatting like two old..... (oops better not say that or I'd be in trouble with the wimmin :-) We were on a trip down memory lane and didn't notice the weather as we remembered the good days and the bad ones. That chat with Philly has reminded me of things I had almost forgotten, and later I'll be talking about them here. Thanks Philly, may ya never want!

As we parted I said to Philly, "As I remember the things we got up to I wonder how come we managed to stay outta REAL trouble at all?" Philly's answer was a good one. "We caused our share of mayhem.... but we never actually hurt anyone." Maybe THAT'S why our memories are all mainly good ones.

On that note I'll take my leave for now and I look forward to getting back to the writing. Remember where we left off? I have to tell you about how we kids settled a score with a man, a loan shark, who made my mother cry. Coming soon.