Our columnist Frank Brandon on returning to reading amid continuing power outages, the ferocity and fallout of Storm Éowyn, and an unusual incident that occurred recently in a Chinese barber shop
You might recall that last week I told you about Chapters – a huge bookshop I stumbled upon when out for a stroll in the centre of Dublin recently – and how amazed I was at the sheer size of the premises, and the fact that there were thousands and thousands of new and second-hand books for sale in it.
Anyway, I would probably never have mentioned books or bookshops again if Storm Éowyn hadn’t hit us with the ferocity of a Mike Tyson uppercut, getting rid of all the things that we now take for granted.
Our electricity, water, and phones are all gone since early Friday morning. As I write this on Monday afternoon, they tell us that we will be out until Thursday week (the 6th of February), which will be a day short of a fortnight. It’s hard to imagine that such a thing could happen in this day and age, but that seems to be the story.
So, with no telly or internet access, I decided to read a book. And as I read Joe Canning’s story from cover to cover, my mind went all the way back to my very young days, when my mother (Mrs B) had the library in Creggs.
Since those were the days before the advent of telly and a lot of other modern stuff like the internet and Netflix and social media, I suppose it was natural that people read a lot more. The number of parishioners that used to come to the library was amazing, with almost everyone arriving on their bicycles from all corners of the parish.
A man I remember well was Paddy Daly – a bachelor small farmer who lived about two or three miles out the Roscommon road, and who religiously changed his books every single week. As far as I remember you were only supposed to get two or three books at a time, but Paddy always had five or six, and he would have them wrapped neatly up in plastic, like a present, tied with twine and fitting securely on the carrier of his bike. I can still see him doing the wrapping on the library floor, after changing his books, before heading back home happy as Larry with his new reading material.
While the library was supposed to have official opening hours, the truth is that Mrs B never enforced them; if someone called out of hours, Mrs B always let them in! Saturday was meant to be a closed day but it was one of the busiest days of the week – and for me it was a blessing, because I would be home from school and sent out to look after whoever it was that came. All that really meant was marking the old books back in and putting them back in the right places on the shelves, and marking the new ones out by simply stamping the date they went out.
But because I was there so often, it meant that I became an avid reader. As a child, it was all Enid Blyton and Billy Bunter books. And as I grew older, I got into westerns – Zane Grey was my favourite author. Zane Grey was a dentist who wrote numerous books, with the remarkable total of 112 of his books having been made into films. He was one of the foremost writers of westerns of all time.
But I suppose the advent of television was the beginning of the end; reading numbers in Creggs began to dwindle and eventually the library closed. I sadly have to admit that I too fell by the wayside as a reader.
And so it was a pleasant surprise to find that Storm Éowyn rekindled my reading gene after all these years. As I really enjoyed Joe Canning’s book, I now hope to revive my reading career – I wonder where will I find a Zane Grey western?
Storm musings
Back to Storm Éowyn: it’s fair to say that in my lifetime I don’t remember any weather event that had the ferocity of this one.
On the Thursday night/Friday morning from about 3 am onwards, it was the loudest wind that I ever heard. It must have been what a hurricane sounds like. After a couple of hours I decided to move from the back of the house to the front, but it made no difference in the slightest.
To all intents and purposes I was waiting for some major destruction to befall my little house. But amazingly all that happened was that a couple of trees in the field at the back of the house came down, half the eave of the roof took flight, a shed door came apart, and the garden took a fair battering. Overall, the damage was very minor.
On Friday evening, by which time we were all without power, I decided I’d head over to Terry Leyden’s for a pint. I don’t think anything could have prepared me for the state of the wood road. By the time I got to the actual wood itself, I had barely made it under three trees that were right across the road, my windscreen had taken a good slap from a flying ESB wire, and I suppose by then I should have turned back.
However, when a man wants a pint he has to keep going, and I’m glad I did because the wood road was like something you might see in a movie and I doubt if I’ll ever see the likes of it again. It was like a horror scene out of Armageddon; hundreds of trees down all over the place – and just enough room for a car to squeeze through – fallen trees flanking either side of the road. Someone had cut a track through it, but just as I was thinking I’d make it all the way, the road was completely blocked at Jackie Flanagan’s house and I had to turn back.
In my life I had never seen anything like it – but in a perverse way, I was glad I did – because if someone told me about it I wouldn’t have believed them.
Anyway, here we are four days in (as I write), and while it’s bad enough being without the ESB and the phones, I think the worst part is the lack of water. And as schemes all over the country are out, you would have to ask why they don’t have their own generators. Maybe it’s not possible – and if so, I apologise for asking – but if it could be done, surely it should be! As we are going to get more and more of these storms, we should be more prepared.
However, on a personal level, I have to say I don’t mind it that much. For those of us who grew up in the very early 1950s, we all had to draw water from the pump or the well and to do so again is actually a little bit enjoyable. Maybe life has got too soft for people and it’s no harm to get a little reminder that it wasn’t always this easy.
The other thing that I remember is that my granny used always have a kettle boiling on the open fire, and I am now following suit by keeping a full saucepan of water boiling away on the kitchen stove.
And so, apart from the long, lonely dark evenings, it’s not too bad – but maybe come the 6th of February I might be very glad to have all my things back working again!
And finally…
You have all heard about a bull in a China shop, but over in Nanyang in China, customers and staff in a barber shop got quite a land when a large cow burst through the front door, sending furniture and staff members flying.
The cow had escaped from its owner as he tried to load it on a trailer, and took off before arriving in for a short back and sides.
Eventually the poor animal quietened down and was recaptured. His owner had to pay a fine of about 140 US dollars, and the customers and staff got on with their business. Is it any wonder I don’t visit barber shops too often!
‘Til next week,
bye for now!
