A Tribute To My Dad

November is traditionally a month in which people remember their loved ones and friends that they have lost and miss so much in their lives.  I am no exception and this month I am thinking a lot about my beloved dad who I love and miss every day.  I hope he would like this little tribute.  For you dad.

                                           William (Willie/Bill) Harwood  1922 - 1999


                                                           OUR    DAD

                                               Our dad had sea blue eyes
                                               And a slender nose
                                               He wore a  white vest
                                               And dipped his shaving brush
                                               In soap in a cracked mug
                                               He smiled at us in the mirror
                                               He rode his bicycle
                                               To the nylon factory
                                               At Fumbally Lane
                                               He sat on a bench in the sun
                                               His small white dog by his side
                                               Sipping tea and whiskey from it's bowl
                                               At the seaside
                                               Our dad rolled up his trouser legs
                                               And paddled his feet
                                               In ice cold water
                                               His sandals lay on the sand
                                               He loved music and Jesus and Mary
                                               His fingers tapped out
                                               A myriad of tunes
                                               On a red accordion
                                               And counted  Hail Marys'
                                               On his brown rosary beads
                                               Our dad had a scar
                                               Where his voice use to be
                                               He watched old westerns on t v
                                               Laurel and Hardy made him laugh
                                               Our dad died
                                               The mourners spilled onto
                                               The church steps
                                               A stranger asked
                                               Who died, the Presedent?
                                               No we answered
                                               He was just
                                               Our dad
                                                                               
                                                                                            by Elizabeth Harwood Cullen

Holy Ireland..That's a laugh. What About Our Animals????

Oh this morning my blood is boiling.  Why? you may ask.  Because everyday there seems to be more and more cases of animal cruelty to read and hear about.  Holy Ireland is dead and gone,  About time people realised that.  Cruel, sadistic and crap.  That's my description of Ireland today.

Last night a few brilliant hard working people went to endless trouble to rescue ten ponies and foals who were left to rot in their own filth.  To rot and starve in a dark shed. I won't go into more detail in case I upset your delicate conscience......    All the owner had to offer was, "oh I was too proud to ask for help".  We don't believe that or accept it.  Heard it all before. Well done to the intelligent and alert whistle blower.  We need more of you.  Our animals need more of you. Today those poor unfortunate animals are starting a new life.  The life each and every one of them deserve.  They will be cared for, cleaned, get the medical attention they need, fed and most of all shown lots and lots of love and tenderness. There are some good people out there who will make sure of this.  People who give up their own money and time to make sure that cruelty is kept at a minimum.

And don't give me 'DO GOODERS', who believe and try to shove it down the rest of our necks, that humans who commit cruel acts to children and animals need help. It makes me sick to hear them in the media....."Oh these poor people need rehabilitation, they were treated badly so they know no better'....That is a load of bull.... They should be thrown into a dark, smelly prison, where fear is the order of the day and the key thrown into a bog somewhere.  No, no I do not apologise for feeling like this.

The most greedy, cruel, vile, self centred animal on earth is The Human Being.

So grow a conscience, dig deep, share and care. Blow that whistle.  Do something usefull and for once.  It is not enough to throw ten cents into a collection box and think you are great.  Get out there adopt a poor animal, take it away from a cruel loveless life, you will get back that love and such happiness one hundred times.

Just one voice and it is for the thousands and thousands of animals out there.I won't stop speaking for you till cruelty disappears for good.  Thank heavens we have the sanctuaries and the magnificent, brave volunteers who work round the clock to save and love our animals.

Angry, angry, angry.

                                     KEEPPUNTING'S  OTHER  HALF



Well given the exciting day that's in it.......no no not the election of the new pope.. The.Cheltenham Festival I am talking about, I thought I may as well add my twopence worth, or two cents worth, whatever....

I could, I suppose, be described as a liberty belle, having lived all my life until seven years ago in Dublin, only a bus ride from city centre. So you are asking "What the hell would she know about horse racing so?".  Fair point but I have lived with keeppunting for over half my life so something must have gone into that curly head of mine.

Keeppunting is not just a punter.  That is just a tiny part of his interest in these majestic beasts.  At the core of his being is a complete passion for THE HORSE. From the magnificent stallion standing tall with an intelligence in his eye that is hard to match to the expectant mare carrying her precious foal   with love and care. Keeppunting never stops to wonder at the miracle of the minute old foal who stretches his matchstick like legs and grasps at the straw in an effort to stand beside his proud mother. He has the height of respect for the race horse, the work horse, the wild and unbroken horses, ponies and not least the lowly rescue donkeys who find sanctuary with  horse lovers like himself.  As he says at the heart of them all is THE HORSE.

Keeppunting has thought me everything I know about the horse. The only thing I knew up to then was that I liked and admirred horses when I saw them.  The only thing I knew about racing was that our household came to a standstill one saturday a year when the Derby took place.  A newspaper with the horses names would be spread on the kitchen table, my mam and granny, complete with aprons on, would call the six of us children round the table. My dad would stand by with a jotter and a pen in readiness for writing down a horse's name next to each of our names.  My granny would pass around a knitting needle, (oh hope Health and Safety and the Dept. of Children don't read this ) and each of the nine of us would close our eyes and take a turn in stabbing the newspaper to see which horse we picked for the draw. My dad would be subsequently despatched to the bookies shop across the road with the money for all the bets......may the best man, or woman win.

I also remember Arkle being mentioned from time to time. I was seven when Arkle won the Cheltenham Gold Cup in 1964.  My memory is of my dad and grandmother, normally two of the most reserved people I have met in my life time, standing and shouting at the black and white tv, "Come on Arkle, go on, go on boy, you can do it,  go on........" I was seven as I said and I actually thought the world would end or the sky would fall if Arkle did not win, but he did and my grandmother cried, just as she did on the day that it was announced that the Great Great Arkle had died.

But, readers, in those intervening years I have been like a sponge, soaking up every bit of info that keeppunting imparted to me.  I am amazed at the facts that I DO know now about the horse.  I know colours like Bay describes brown horses, Grey is the colour of white horses and Chestnut is a whole other conundrum.  I know the names of parts of horses such as withers, flanks.  I can recognise one horse from another, which is a miracle in itself. I now know that there is a difference between Flat race horses and those who are trained to jump Hurdles.  I can pick out a small tidy horse from a larger thicker horse while parading or running. The different look in certain horses eyes, the set of the ears.

The best part those is that I have made the trip to Cheltenham Race Course, accompanied by keeppunting himself.  He made the decision on which meeting we should attend based entirely on my height......  "You will see nothing at all at the march meeting, you will be crushed.  The only hope is the Open in november".  And off we went. I have now been there a couple of  times and hopefully will go again soon.  From the moment keeppunting received onfirmation of our ferry booking and racing badges I was hooked.  The first year we stayed in Gloucester which was lovely and the second time we stayed in a gorgeous hotel in Stratford on Avon.  Shakespeare country.  We also went to see a play at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre.

But to Cheltenham itself now.  We arrived each morn of the races at 10a.m. after a hearty breakfast. There was already a sea of eager punters flocking to the gates.  All dressed in suitable attire.  Brown, green and check heavy jackets and coats.  Style was rife but warm comfortable style.  Everyone wore a hat.   The men wore cord trousers of everycolour between yellow and red. ha ha.  The racecourse itself sits in the shadow of Cleeve Hill.  The country side is pure magic. Having attached my special prepaid badge to my brown wax coat, the badge which would allow me access to certain stands,  I was led into the grounds and down to where a huge tented village spread out among the fields. Inside were trade stands of every kind, food, drink, clothes, footwear, saddlery, leather goods, jewellery, trinkets of high quality. Goods for pets.  My favourite stands were the Country Day stand and the Injured Jockey stand.

I was able to browse these stands over the three days and purchase beautiful christmas cards, painted by injured jockeys.  Cards with fabulous country scenes.  Cards which displayed portraits of the greats....Arkle, Best Mate, Edredon Bleu....many many others.  I walked around to the strains of a fantastic Jazz Band, all dressed as butchers, who entertained for hours down beside the memorial statue of Best Mate.  I watched and took part in the races too.  Placing my little tote bets of two or three sterling pounds and loosing more than I won. But is was a bit of fun and my biggest win was with EXOTIC DANCER, who was ridden by A. P. McCoy or Johnjo O'Neill, in the Paddy Power Gold Cup at the Open meeting.

The cheltenham weather is cold but when you get caught up in the thrill and excitement of the races it is contagious.As I look at keeppunting who is sitting under a portrait of Istabraq, opposite a portrait of Best Mate and surrounded by small pictures of Arkle, Dawn Run and Desert Orchid, all purchased by myself for keeppunting, for the first time in 34 years I realise that THE HORSE has weaved his wily way under my skin too. As my other half says.....keeppunting.

Would My Granny Manage A Laptop?

Sitting here, feet up on stool, mobile phone at arms length, blogging on my laptop.  It just occurred to me that we have moved on so much since my grandmother was living, thirty one years ago. At my age she was just on the verge of being presented with her dozenth grandchild.  She was living with my family helping to rear us, her grandchildren.  Actually I think she did a pretty damn good job, ha ha ha.

At this time on a sunday evening we would have been finishing up a lovely sunday tea.  Complete with white dmask starched tablecloth and all matching china tableware.  She would have been appalled at the odd coffee mugs which are perched on the arms of our armchairs here with the discarded papers from our biscuit bars.  No saucers, spoons or plates.

Saturdays would have been spent preparing an array of vegetables for the Sunday dinner.  Huge pot of peeled potatoes would be standing on cooker and the roast would be prepared, stuffed if needed, and covered in fridge all in readiness the following day.  Where would she have found the time to go on her laptop and surf the net.  Follow friends on facebook and twitter.

She met her friends at seven o clock mass each weekday, eleven o clock on saturday morn or eight o clock on sunday morn.  That was it, when she was not doing house work or ironing she was sitting in her armchair knitting dozens of jumpers and cardigans, mittens and hats for us, her grandchildren.  She also used a singer sewing machine to mend anything that needed mending.  She was a fantastic cook and baker.  I often wonder what she would make of my life.

As for the mobile phone no way would she entertain that.  When we got the telephone in our home she even found that hard to contend with and often held the  receiver upside down. Once  having failed to reach the phone on time, and hearing it beep, we heard her shout in exasperation into the receiver....Ah   Bip Off With Yourself.....

When I think of the way I rely on my mobile so much and love using my laptop to keep in touch with friends and family. And basically to manage my life in many different ways.  My granny did not have any of these aids and yet she managed to have a full and interesting life.  She kept in touch with her extended family through letters which she wrote by hand and posted in the post office. She travelled to the country and spent weeks with them visiting various relations around the place.  She also managed to get to Lourdes in France, several times and England, by plane and boat respectively.

No the lalptop would be a step too far. U tube, I hate to think.......What would she e mail about anyway.....perhaps that she was brushing her black coat for mass and that she was going to wear the new hat pin that she had bought in Frawleys in Thomas Street in the front of her best hat. Maybe she would blog about the beautiful queeen of pudding or egg custard that she made at the weekend or the new tin of Mentholatum that she got in the chemist for her arthritic knees. I could just see her Facebooking her friends saying........Roll on bedtime and a delicious cup of Complan girls.....   

I Have Been To Edinburgh!

I Have Been To Edinburgh, Finally.

Well I have heard so many positive reports about Edinburgh that I decided to head over there for a well deserved break.

It is true.  Edinburgh is an amazing place. The buildings have a real WOW factor.  They are enourmous.  The brick is fantastic in them too. My friend and I went from Monday to Friday and spent all our waking hours walking the city and saw some sights.   Edinburgh Castle is fantastic and takes a couple of hours or more to get round.  Everything in the city is accesable on foot which is great.  There are also great tour buses which go every twenty mins or so, hop on and hop off.  They go to all the attractions, Hollyrood House, Botanic Gardens, The fantastic now decommissioned Royal yacht, The Britannia.

We walked the Royal Mile everyday.  The little shops are so inviting and even found a lovely Christmas Shop, ha ha the poor woman inside has to listen to Christmas Carols all year long, but I must add they were being played by a fantastic scottish band and really jissed up. Yes I have to admit it, we both bought something christmassy in the shop...... well it was very inviting and we kinda got into the Christmas spirit as soon as we entered.

We were blessed with the weather.  While our familes and countrymen drowned in the good old irish rain, (my garden looks like a jungle now), we walked Edinburgh in lovely sunshine.  We even were lucky enough to be there for the olympic flame. We were given free ice cold cokes in lovely colourful memoriable bottles and oodles of flags to wave as the flame carrier ran past us on the Royal  Mile.

Another highlight for us both was the visit to Grayfriar's Cemetery, where Grayfriar's Bobby is buried.  The faithful little terrier dog who kept guard on his master's grave for fourteen years.  He was adopted and looked after by men attending the graveyard and when he died they were given special dispensation to bury Bobby near his master.  We also discovered a lovely welcoming Edwardian Tea Room on Chalmers Close.  It is run by a wonderful lady called Christine.  Definitely worth a visit or two or three, the chat and the delicious food and cakes keep you coming back.....

I for one give Edinburgh the thumbs up and will be paying more visits there in time.  Three cheers for Edinburgh.

Back to blogging. Did anyone miss me?

Hi everybody going try this blogging lark again. I have not been blogging for two reasons.  One is that I had an op for Carpal Tunnel and had big awkward bandage on my hand for weeks.  Then could not really use hand properly for another few weeks.

Then when I that all was ok my lap top decided to sit down. It is only a few months old but these things happen and now after a few more weeks I am back on track.

Was just reading about some of the younger generation and their futile quest to secure employment.  They say that they are very down and out about it and are willing to try any job within reason but I think times have changed so much in the past few years that people looking for employment back in the old days......the seventies and eighties...were really and truly prepared to chance any job.  People now are a lot better off in all kinds of ways.  Everything is better and they are prepared to take employment anywhere "within reason or on their terms".

I personally told seven young people between ages of 20 and 28, all unemployed and some with college courses and qualifications behind them, all about the massive job expo that was held in RDS recently.  To my knowledge not one of them bothered getting up and going to even see what was on offer.  These people complain and moan about not have employment or money every single day.  Are they really and truly that bothered about securing a job or a career or do they have things too handy already.