Our columnist Frank Brandon on traveling to his recent pacemaker check-up, hosting his daughter and grandchildren, signs, potholes, and more!
It’s Monday morning of last week, and I’m heading to Dublin for the annual check-up on my pacemaker in St James’s Hospital. As usual, I decide to travel by train.
I have said before that, for all his many faults, Charlie Haughey did a lot of good for people other than himself (admittedly he helped himself a fair bit as well).
Knock Airport and the arts in particular benefitted hugely from his commitment to the development of both. He also had a deep and genuine concern for the elderly throughout his political career and tried to ensure that they had not only the very basic necessities in life, but also that they had some comfort and companionship in their later years.
And so in the Budget in 1967 Haughey introduced free travel for pensioners, an initiative which writer Micheál Ó Nualláin described as “the greatest thing since fried bread or the sliced pan”.
As a long-standing member of the free travel club, I decided to take the train from Athlone because there are a lot more scheduled services from there than from Roscommon. Mind you, going from Athlone raises its own issues.
There must be a big increase in the number of people using public transport because you wouldn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of getting parked in the station’s car park. That meant I had to park in the Council car park opposite the new town shopping centre but, just as happened me in Longford some weeks ago, I couldn’t buy an all-day parking ticket.
A two-hour stay is all you are allowed, and so I headed off to Dublin petrified that my car would be clamped when I got back. Thankfully it wasn’t, but I really think towns that have busy train/bus stations whose parking facilities can’t cope with the increased volume of business should make allowances for passengers who have to travel further.
An all-day (or longer) ticket would solve the problem and take unnecessary stress out of such travel. As for my old pacemaker, it must have been in good shape because all was good with the check-up. However, my stress wasn’t fully gone because as I walked back to where I’d parked my new 06 Lexus I could see lights in the distance – and it felt suspiciously like the brightness was coming from where I had parked the car more than eight hours earlier.
For some reason, since I got this car I never seem to turn off my lights, which is okay at night because I can see them in the dark, but in daylight hours it can be detrimental. I have lost count already of the number of times I have run down the battery.
Anyway, after I trudged through the dark and the wind and the rain, my worst fears were realised. It was indeed my car that had lots of lights left on, but remarkably, and to my immense relief, it actually started.
When I eventually made it home I reflected on a day that, despite everything, turned out pretty well. It’s another 12 months before they want to see me in St James’s again. In the meantime, I must look up the manual in the Lexus and figure out how to properly set the lights.
Family matters
It’s a beautiful Sunday morning and my daughter Lisa and her two young children, Riley (aged 4) and Hayley (2) have been visiting me since yesterday (Saturday) along with her two dogs, Panda and Rocco.
Despite being away from their usual surroundings, the Crosswell air must have agreed with everyone, as all concerned (dogs included) slept like logs and we had a completely peaceful night. We were up early this morning and shortly after 9 am headed off to the playground in Loughnaneane Park in Roscommon.
The entrance to the park is adjacent to the football (now the cricket) grounds known as Coman’s Park. On Sunday morning it could easily have been known as Coman’s lake, as the pitch was literally a sheet of water.
I tried to explain to Riley that games used to be played there during the summer but I don’t think I got the message through. All she saw was the water – she kept asking where the grass was. When we got to the playground it was still quiet enough with only a handful of people there – a couple of young children with their parents and like myself, a grandfather who had come along for the ride.
I have to say Riley and Hayley had great fun. As I’ve said before, it’s a huge pity we have no playground in Creggs. Every village around us seems to have a really good one but sadly, despite the incredible improvements that have taken place in our village during my lifetime, we still don’t have one for our local children.
By the time we left (shortly after 11 am), the playground was getting pretty full. The fresh air had made us all hungry so we made a little detour to the cafe in Creggs Rugby Club where we all sat down for breakfast.
With young children you never know exactly how their appetites can be, but we needn’t have worried! They ate all around them and thoroughly enjoyed their breakfasts while (as usual) I tucked into the full Irish.
The cafe was very busy. I met two lads from Ballintubber who had made the trip to Creggs, while there was also a group of eight or ten cyclists from Glenamaddy who stopped in for a snack while on their regular Sunday morning outing. Several more customers were coming and going while we were dining.
When all was done we went out to support the senior women’s rugby team who were playing, and beating, the women from Our Lady’s Boys Club in Galway. My two grandchildren really enjoyed the game, although as yet Riley says she won’t ever be a player. Hayley couldn’t care less either way, but I suppose at two years of age she’s entitled to feel that way.
Anyway, after all that they all headed back home to Castlebar, leaving me to reflect on how different life is now that I am more than a year on my own. I have to admit that I really hate the fact that Carol, who so looked forward to having grandchildren, didn’t get very long with them.
Sign of the times
Fast-forward to Monday – again it was a beautiful morning – and I find myself doing my daily walk around the local rugby club grounds. The deer are out in the distant fields and the bird app on my phone tells me that the robin is singing its heart out, but I am ignoring all those wonderful acts of nature.
Instead, I’m looking at and thinking about all the advertising signs that are erected around the main playing pitches. A couple of days ago my one regular reader rang me to bring a sign he saw recently on the Galway Road outside Moylough to my attention.
Now in a family newspaper I cannot tell you what was on the homemade sign, but basically it was about a description of a local pothole – and obviously not in favour of the particular pothole. It made me think how huge the signwriting business has become.
When I was young there was hardly any such thing as advertising signs, but now there’s a sign for everything. Weddings, all types of matches, festivals, businesses, floods, road works, parking, accidents, oil spills, even funerals and many other events all have their own signs – and signs are on it (the worst pun ever) as we now have a number of big successful sign companies in every locality.
Anyway, as a result of my reader’s phone call I decided to see could I Google the Moylough sign and see it for myself. Sadly I had no luck. However there were more than three thousand pictures of potholes and all kinds of pothole signs from all over the world.
My favourite one came from Ballybofey a couple of years back. It read ‘Potholes ahead: Remove dentures! Tighten bra straps!’ As for the outside Moylough sign, all I can say is it definitely got its message across. My reader wonders did Galway County Council sort out the problem.
And finally…
You will recall that we organised a coffee morning for the Mayo/Roscommon Hospice a few weeks ago in the hall at Creggs National School in memory of my wife, Carol.
Well the great news is that, thanks to the generosity and support of so many members of our community and beyond, we were able to present the extraordinary sum of €5,000 to the Hospice.
I have to say that in our wildest dreams we never anticipated anything like that amount, so on behalf of myself and my family, all I can say is thank you all so very, very much.
As I told you at the time I sadly burned the buns that I was making for that morning, but please God we will do it again next year, and this time (if I’m still around) I will get them right! Anyway, thanks from the bottom of our hearts to everyone who helped in any way. We really appreciate it!
‘Till next week,
bye for now
