Starman

BF: I’m sorry I am not here to take your call at present please leave…

Me: Very funny can you talk?

BF: To you, yes. Hold on until I grab my wine

Me: Grab the bottle

BF: Ooh I love intrigue give me a second…

Background music ♪Amy Winehouse Rehab ♪

BF I’m all ears cheers

Me: Cheers yourself. I was thinking about joining an Irish language class do you fancy coming with me?

BF: Make it an Irish bar and you have a running mate.

Me: Seriously though would you come for the craic?

BF: Craic. Irish lessons. You – who is he?

Me: Seriously, I’ve always wanted to learn Irish

BF No you haven’t you hated Irish at school and your Spanish wasn’t exactly hot either

Me: Well I did mention classes before.

BF: That was 7 years ago when you fancied your brothers college mate from Donegal. So who is it now?

Me: This bloke i met last night. He is gorgeous and well he has inspired me to take up Irish. He called me babóg.

BF: Not Donegal Catch? Let me tell you if there’s plenty of fish in the sea I’d settle for anyone like him.

Me: Hunter.

BF: Not hunter. Donegal Catch as in frozen fish…as in they’re keeping my ideas in a filing cabinet. I was trying to be fistitious!

Me: Jesus. Stop coding around. He’s called Hunter.

BF: Hunter? Are you drinking?

Me: 1. Yes. 2. Slurp… yes, you know I am.

BF: Well then who the feck’s Hunter?

Me: Only the most gorgeous looking man I’ve seen in ages.

BF: Where did you see him?

Me: Last night I was coming out of work and Lizzie suggested that we go for a few drinks. She had a row with her boyfriend and was in no rush to see him. And, well I was in no hurry to head to that cupboard I call home. I am so sick of having to pull that bloody bed down out of the wall.

BF: Jesus get the violins out you’re breaking my heart.

Me: I met this gorgeous bloke and he sort of bowled me over.

BF: So what exactly did this gorgeous bloke say to you?

Me: Well, the place was packed and I had gone to the bar to get another round and he tried to squeeze past me with a tray full of drink.

BF: Go on.

Me: He said sorry babóg – now I may have been wick at Irish but even I know it means baby. Sorry baby. My legs nearly left me. I think I am in love.

BF: And?

Me: Well…

BF: That’s it you have fallen for someone, in a bar, who said excuse me as they pass you by?

Me: He said excuse me babóg

BF: Well excuse me Eve but I know what you are like one look from some hunk and all of a sudden you are in love

Me: It’s different this time

BF: How?

Me: It was the way he said EXXXX-SCUSE - ME babóg. His voice is just so, so sexy.

BF That’s the worst accent I’ve heard in a long time

Me: Yes, but later we were sort of caught in a clinch

BF: In a clinch?

Me: Yes in a clinch

BF: A clinch

Me: Yes

BF: ♪ Tell me more, tell me more was it love at first sight? ♪

Me: He was passing a pint over to one of his mates and some of it spilt on my sleeve.

BF: How romantic and you call that a clinch?

Me: Well maybe its wishful thinking but…

BF: But what?

Me: He gave me this really sexy grin and said we have to stop meeting like this

BF: And?

Me: And...

BF: AND?

Me: He apologised for spilling his drink over me and I told him not to worry it was only an old thing I’d thrown on

BF: What were you wearing?

Me: I can’t remember.

BF: Liar.

Me: My new jacket.

BF: Oh yes that old thing. The little beauty from Karen Millen that you bought last week!

Me: He asked me my name and just as I was saying Eve he said he was Hunter and being somewhat of anthropologist I immediately thought of the hunters and gatherers and…

BF: And?

Me: And I said Eve. Eve GATHERER!

BF: Stifled laughter. Hand over the phone.


Me: And then one of his mates shouted quick lads hide you’re nuts we’re surrounded by hunters and gatherers …and then they all fell about laughing.

BF: Snigger.

Me: And then I legged it – I was so embarrassed.

BF: Did he hunt you down; through you over his shoulder and have is evil way with you?

Me: Very funny, I grabbed poor Lizzie and trailed her to the upstairs bar. Got pissed and then…

BF: Then?

Me: Then we went out to get a taxi and he was standing with a girl and they were talking in Irish. I didn’t understand what he was saying until I heard the words hunters agus gatherers. They were in peals of laugher as they climbed in to their taxi.

BF: Their taxi. Are they an item or what?

Me: I don’t know but I’m going to find out.

BF: So gatherer becomes hunter?

Me: Mm… that sounds nice… Mrs Hunter…

BF: An Irish class, so what’s in it for me?

Me; That Karen Millen dress of mine you fancy.

BF: Ok I’ll go.

Me (under my breath) Sucker.

BF (Just as the phone is being set down) Eve Gallagher I Heard th…

*************************************************************************************


That was then. And now nearly 2 years later I have to my credit a decent knowledge of Irish and a new apartment. Well not new exactly. I have leased an apartment for a year as I was so sick of the broom cupboard and its bloody pull down bed. One morning I tried to push it back in to its cupboard and it fell down on my head. It was really sore. It was the last straw – mind you it was probably the only straw as the mattress was so bloody thin.

Over breakfast I read my stars. Patrick Arundell Irish News 23rd June 2007

‘Are you going to move home this year Sagittarius, because there is every chance it has been on your mind since 2007 dawned? The next five months could prove pivotal, especially if you feel cramped or lack of privacy. If you are hoping to complete the lease or purchase of a property right now, hard as it may be, more patience might be needed. Call me to understand exactly why this is.

I wasn’t so sad or so desperate to have called Patrick although I am sure he is a very nice bloke. OK that’s a lie I did phone but as soon as he said ‘for your weekly forecast press one, I hung up! But Patrick’s forecast was the push I needed to get me out of the hinterland of South Belfast, in to the heart of BT9 where it all happens. Or where I thought it was all happening. As for needing more patience well that ran out the moment the bed crashed down on my head.

However, not to my credit I have been dumped by 3 guys in as many months. My biggest regret however is that I never found him again. I am a failure amongst the hunters and gatherers of this world. I will never be given the freedom of the Trobriand Islands.

So here am I sitting on the balcony of my new, albeit rented apartment overlooking the beautiful people of BT9. I have decided that this is going to be the first day of the rest of my life. I am no longer going to be haunted by hunter. It’s time for me to catch my self on and get a life – well that’s what BF said. She’s right. She’s a lawyer. She knows everything and after all as BF says there are plenty of fish in the sea. I’m going fishing!

BF is my best friend. Her real name is Barbara Finnegan and we have been best friends since our first day in P1. Separated by 1 street and some very horrible boys we started school on the same day. We both wore the same hair bands and carried the same school bags. We have been inseparable ever since. She is my best friend. She knows me better than my own family. She listens to me. She kicks my ass. She is always there for me.

Anyhow, I moved in a few weeks ago and must say I love it. The apartment is really bright and spacious and is the complete opposite of the broom cupboard. It has one bedroom with wait for it a king size bed. So no more wrestling matches with a pull down bed when I come home after a night out. It has a bathroom with a window which means I no longer get lost in clouds of steam. The living room is a beautiful and has a music system with speakers throughout the apartment. But best of all it has a wall of windows with a door that leads out on to a private balcony overlooking the Lisburn Road. And that’s where I am sitting now enjoying a glass of wine, listening to David Bowie’s Starman as I wait for BF and a few others to arrive for an Ann Summers party that I was pressed ganged in to having. Why did I agree to it?

Note to self:

• Become more assertive and learn to say no and don’t, don't try on a thong.

• Check stars. Mine and Hunter’s! Like me he is a Sagittarian. How do I know? Well he was celebrating his birthday the night our paths crossed. I know because he was wearing a birthday boy badge. And in case you don’t know the astrological symbols for Sagittarius are the hunter (archer) and the centaur, the mystical half man and half horse. See! So if he’s Hunter then I must be the back end of a horse.

• Stop being self-deprecating IMMEDIATELY.

• Don’t be haunted by Hunter.

*************************************************************************************

Not only did I try on a thong (actually wore it on top of my head)I sang one. Several large glasses of wine later and I was in the middle of the floor leading the singsong. Hair brush in hand I sang …♪sing, sing a thong, sing out loud sing out strong♪ Need I say any more? Mind you it was quare craic. BF bought something that will not be mentioned but suffice to say that it will be delivered to her in a brown paper envelope and comes with free pink fluffy handcuffs! It must be a legal thing.I bought something for my bottom drawer!

BF stayed the night sleeping where she had landed on the settee. The next morning tired and somewhat hungover we decided to go out for breakfast. We did this for two reasons. One because there was nothing in the fridge except for a bottle of sparkly (not sure how it survived) and a couple of diary products past their sell by date. Oh, and a carton of orange juice. Guess where this is leading! So in order to kick start our day I made up some bucks fizz (hair of the dog and all that) and we sat out the balcony and watched the world go by. Very indulgent I know but what would you have done? Secondly we decided to go out for breakfast well brunch as we both needed something really tasty and it was certainly not a morning to have bran flakes or the likes.

Now, before moving to BT9 I would never have gone out for breakfast. Nor would I have spent time making sure that I was dressed to kill. But you have no idea of the style of these urbanites. There are several types including stylish singles (young and not so young) and yummy mummies and daddies with kids like Felix and Wellington (puss and boots to you and me! I know that’s mean but hey I can’t be nice all the time.

BF had to borrow a change of clothes and in no time looked stunning in the effortlessly cool way that natural beauties do. She has long blond hair and in seconds swept it up to create an ultra chic look. I on the other hand have dark brown shoulder length curly hair. In an attempt to look chic I too decided to wear it up – an explosion in a mattress factory springs to mind! I pulled on a pair of jeans (Per Una) which I had worn for the first time a couple of days ago and a beautiful gleaming white shirt that required the label to be cut of. I am an Ad mans dream. You know the white shirt everyone must have….. Talking about Ads…NO enough. No red herrings I’ll tell you about that later.

So out we stepped in to the bright sun light with sun glasses ,normally perched on top of our heads for maximum impact, welded on to our faces. Not,just I have to add, to dilute the glare of the sun but alsoto hide eyes that were akin to road maps - who needs sat nav? I read recently in Irish Pages (A journal of contempory writing http://www.irishpages.org/current.htm) that there are very few perfect circles in nature and they are, according to Tim Robinson, the sun, the iris of the eye and the arc of a rainbow. I wonder does the arc of a love affair count? Hunter’s face flashed through my mind

The Lisburn Road is very busy Monday through Saturday. Sunday mornings are not so busy but busy enough. We headed to Ruby Tuesdays and on seeing the cafe immediatly did our own special take on the Kaiser Chief's Ruby, Ruby,Ruby,Ruby ♪♪♪ That’s another thing about me and BF we love singing and break out in song at the drop of a hat.
Anyhow, crossing the road we misjudged the speed of a very flash car heading country bound. Stepping of the pavement we had to add an inch to our step so as not to get mowed down. A car coming the other way slowed down and its driver with a broad smile on his face signalled for us to cross. It was him. I know it was. Nearly two years later he was back in my life. Once a gatherer always a gatherer! My heart was racing and I had to wait until we were seated in Ruby Tuesdays before I could tell BF that I’d seen him.

BF Are you sure?

Me It was definitely him? Please, please, please God let it be him.
St.Jude please help and I promise I’ll publish your greatness in
the Irish News,the Andytown News whatever it takes!!

Me It was him. O Feck! How do I look? Do you think he recognised me?

Me I need to go to the loo.

Stylish Lady Excuse me. mm excuse me dear.

Me Me?

Stylish Lady Yes, you dear.

Me (inwardly) Eek

Stylish Lady I think you would want to know. I know I would.

Me(nervously) Yes, yes i do what is it?

Stylish Lady Your tights dear.

Me My tights? What tights? I'm not wearing tights.

Stylish Lady (softly) Look down dear.

All of a sudden the place fell silent. I am in outer space I am hurtling Google Earth style right down on myself. I am standing in the middle of style ville with a pair of tights (500ft long) trailing behind me. Oh my God! I hear laughter. That’s what I get for slagging BT9 lovelies. It’s pay back time. I am not sure how but I managed to prise myself from centre stage and make it in to the ladies. Of course it could not have been empty. Oh no. There were a couple of ladies who lunch chattering about global warming or something like that and they fell silent as soon as i burst in through the door. I bolted in to a cubicle and then to sniggers and giggles and a snort or two I pulled the trail of nylon under the door.

BF I am sorry I’m….


Me Help

BF Who is this?

ME Me…help!

BF Sorry I think you have the wrong number.

ME (hysterical whisper)) For ……sake take those pose glasses off and get in to the ladies

BF Eve…

The ladies who lunch headed out and I could still hear them laughing as the outer door swung closed. Silence. The door opened again.

BF (gingerly) Eve?

Me I am in here and I am not coming out until the café is closed.

BF Are you ok, are you sick? Are you…

I came out of the closet, so to speak, with the offending nylon train. It took BF quite a while to stop laughing. I started to see the funny side of it until you know whose face appeared in my minds eye.

ME Feck, feck, feck. Please God please don’t let that have been him. Please,
please don’t let it have been him. I’ll start going to mass again. I promise.

Note to self consider the following options:

• Do not go out again unless at night time
• Relocate
• Emigrate to Ulan Bator
• Become a nun

************************************************************************************
The Black Mountain has been standing for unimaginable millennia. From my balcony I have a great view of it. I know its shape and form intimately and my eyes as always are drawn to the hatchet field. The window from my bedroom at home also had a great view of this grand old lady and I suddenly feel homesick. I haven’t been to visit mum and dad in a while and looking at the mountain reminds me of home. When I was a child dad told me that a giant shaped the field when he threw his hatchet down following a hard days work building the Giant’s Ring further on down the Lagan Valley. Belfast, the city of my birth, is surrounded by mountains and hills. It’s something we in this city take for granted. But it really is beautiful and today the mountain, my mountain, is clothed in swaths of purple and yellow and I wonder if I am the only person looking at it.

Mum Hello

Me Hi mum it’s me.

Mum Speak of the devil. Dad and I are just looking at the leaflet for the West Belfast Festival and dad was wondering if you would like to go to an exhibition on the Black Mountain or maybe do the walk?

Me Funny that. I’m sitting out on the balcony looking at it. Yes. Yes, tell him I’d love to go with him as long as we don’t run in to any giants.

Mum Hee, hee.

Me Will you keep the leaflet for me? I wouldn’t mind seeing what’s on this year. I was thinking of coming home for a few days if that’s ok?

Mum That’s great pet. Our Máire is just of the phone she’s going to be here as well. Something to do with DIY. Peter burst a pipe and the place is flooded.

Me Good old DIY. Destroy it yourself. Poor Peter he’ll be in the dog house.

Mum Is everything alright?

Me Yes. Just been burning the candle at both ends and could do with some TLC and some of your cooking

Mum It will be waiting for you in abundance. See you tomorrow pet.

Me Bye mum.
**************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Did I tell you what I work at? I know I told you earlier that BF is a lawyer. She always knew that she would be become one and an eminent one at that. I drifted. After 'A' levels I took a year out. BF went to Queen's and moved in to a bedsit in the South of the city. I eventually moved in with her and we had great craic. It was the first time either of us had lived away from home. When BF graduated and got a job with a high profile law firm she bought a new appartment. I could have moved in with her but around the same time she started dating Diamuid and well, I didn't want to play gooseberry. But as for me a year out became another year out as I drifted through various temporary jobs (sometimes 2 at a time. I ended up been offered a permanent position in a Government Office after I some how managed to clock up two years service. Tempus Fugit! It’s funny how the years pass by and I sort of became used to the money. I am not complaining it hasn’t been too bad and the few promotions that came my way helped increase my bank balance. Which in turn helped the economy and in particular Karen Millen (well only during the sales). Anyhow, nobody knows this, apart from BF who as I told you before knows everything. Wait for it… I would love to work in an advertising agency. There I’ve said it. That’s what I really want to do. I have no training but I think given the chance I would really be good at it. I'll get back to that later.
For years I have taken my holidays during the first two weeks in August and this year is no different. BF is heading to Paris with Diarmuid and I'm heading West!

**************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

It was strange pulling up outside home. Dad had offered to come over for me but as I was meeting BF for lunch, before Diarmuid whisked her away to Paris, I declined. I smiled as I thought of BF insisting on paying for lunch because when she opened her bag to lift out her purse I could have sworn I saw a flash of pink fur!

Now don’t get me wrong I have been home quite a few times over the past couple of years and always have stayed over on state occasions. However walking up the path I felt this time was different. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it but one thing I knew for sure was that I definitely needed to be home and was looking forward to catching up with Máire and Alice my baby sister who by the way is twenty going on sixteen! I also have two brothers, Jack the eldest of the family lives in Washington where he is married to wait for it JILL. Her name is actually Gill short for Gillian but it wouldn’t have had the same impact. They have 2 gorgeous children Patrick (6) and Katie (3).I saw them in the flesh for the first time last year and I thought mum’s heart was going to burst the day they drove with them to wave them of at the airport. But with the wonders of technology they all can keep in touch with the web cam that Jack brought over and installed for them. My other brother Conor, confirmed Irish bachelor and babe magnet (his description not mine) is one year older than me. He went to the States one summer to play hurling for the Shamrocks hurling club in Philadelphia and loved it so much that he stayed on. He plays the field. Literally. I have lost count of the number of times that both Conor and Jack have asked me out to visit and I am not really sure why I have yet to take them up on their offer. Must consider.

Mum and dad, God love them, were delighted to see Máire and me back in the house. I can’t say the same for Alice. She has been so used to being an only child that she has forgotten what it’s like to share. So one moment I am on a balcony in South Belfast and the next I'm in a warm cosy kitchen in the West. The kitchen is packed with dad, mum, Máire, Alice, Me and Mrs B a life long neighbour and friend sitting around the table. Dad was grinning from ear to ear and I am not sure if it was because he was in his element being surrounded by a bevy of beauties or if he was simply demented. Early he had read an article out of the paper which stated that on average women speak more that 1600 words a day more than men. So multiply that by 5 and you have a hell of a lot of extra words. Now picture the scene again all those women all those words and all at the same time. I’ll leave it up to you to decide on his mental state!

Before heading to bed I read the leaflet that mum had kept for me about the festival.

1001 Things To Do…

Welcome to the West


August Féile

Féile ’07 will take place between the 5th and 12th August 2007. August Féile is the largest community-led festival in Europe and is now entering its 20th year. Our programme of events is of the highest standards if quality entertainment. August Féile has had similar acts to four major UK festivals – Glastonbury, Oxygen, the Cambridge Folk Festival and the London Fleadh. These are all recognised internationally for the quality and breadth of their acts.

August Féile has been set up to celebrate the creative and dynamic community that resides in West Belfast and to promote the community on the world stage by bringing world-renowned acts to West Belfast each year. However an important part of our ethos is to promote local talent and we actively ensure that some of our acts include both established and up and coming local/ national artists.

Bring a friend, bring the family, we hope you can make it along.
See you there!


When it came to bedtime I gladly climbed the stairs to bed. I curled up in a cosy familiar space and fell fast asleep.

The next morning I woke early and it was like I’d never been away from home. The sun was shining through curtains that Alice and I settled on after many arguments when dad transformed our little girls room in to a trendy space. In the half flickering light David Bowie looked down at me and I could have sworn he smiled.

Máire Are you awake?

Me Yes, David I am

Maire What?

Me Sorry. Yes i am.

Máire Man trouble?

Me You or me?

Máire Well yes and boy is that man in trouble. I’ve told him that I am not going home until he sorts out the mess. That’s if I ever go back. What’s with you?

Me Scéal fada.

Máire What?

Me Sorry it’s a long story.

Máire Don’t worry I have all day to listen.



I started with Patrick Arundel and when I got to Hunters and Gatherers and men hiding their nuts the sniggering started. I could see her sliding down under her quilt. By the time I got to the stylish lady telling me my tights were hanging out of my trousers she had two pillows over her head. But you know I didn’t tell her about Hunter.

Máire (high pitched voice) Gosh, followed by peals of laughter.

I can honestly say I can’t remember Máire laughing as much in such a long time. Even though I was the big joke it was still great to see her laugh. Although she doesn’t say much I think her and Peter and having problems and I don’t mean the DIY kind. You know it is good to be home and I’m glad Máire is here too. Maybe we can help each other. I read somewhere recently that there is a big difference in home coming and coming home. We lay laughing and talking for about an hour. The smell of mum’s cooking wafted up the stairs and as if on cue we both started singing gee but it’s great to be home.

Sitting at the kitchen table I looked at my parents through adult eyes for the first time and a feeling of unconditional love surged through me. They are good people. They go to mass every Sunday. Not the ostentatious type who lick the altar rails one moment and then savage the neighbourhood with their tongues the next. When their children, with the exception of Máire, dropped out they never criticised or judged us. Both, but dad in particular, believed in the right of choice and said what was the point of going when you didn’t want to be there. Growing up arguments political or religious, sometimes both, raged every now and again when the seven of us sat around the Sunday table. I asked dad once how he could continue to go to mass in the face of abuse scandals and he simply said “Eve, I go in spite of them”. Dad excused himself from the table and went out to the garden. He looked thoughtful and reflective as he sat on the Victorian Bench that sat alongside the garage. It has always been painted dark green and there are several pots of geraniums, bright red geraniums, on either side of it.
I leave the chattering and walk out in to the garden. Dad tapped the seat and I sat down beside him.

Me The garden looks well dad.

Dad Sometimes I think it’s getting a bit too much for me but I love it

Me Yeah

Dad It was only after you all left home that I was able to get in to shape. It used to like a children’s play ground. Still I always said that in a family home the garden belongs to the children.

Me Good times dad. How are your tomatoes coming on? Any ready for eating?

Dad Let’s go and see

A beautiful cherry tree grows near the greenhouse and although it’s flowering days are over for this year it still is a lovely feature in the garden. It takes me seconds to find what I am looking for. Carved slightly out of view is a heart with the initials M &P in its centre. I remember watching from my window as Peter carving it as the two of them giggled the way young lovers do. I wonder what has happened to them because they were always, in my mind, the perfect couple. Like BF and Diamuird. Like Máiread and Peter. Take it from me as a singleton when you find the right person don’t let go.

The Green House which once seemed to be the size of the glass house in Botanic Gardens looks very small and I had to crouch down a bit to get in to it. But there is something familiar and very safe about it. Along one shelf are a mixture of hand decorated pots that each of us had given to dad one father’s day a very long time ago. They are filled with mixture of herbs which mum uses regularly in her cooking. The tomatoes are doing really well and I pick one and rub it on my shirt before eating it. It is gorgeous. Why are tomatoes known as the food of love? In fact are they? This is typical of the mad thoughts that pop in my head these days.

Alice Dad phone. It’s for you. It’s Harry.

Dad Coming. Sorry pet we’ll get another chance to talk later.

And off he walked towards the house and I was sorry that our chat had come to an end.
I was standing under the cherry tree lost in my thoughts when mum came out with a basket of washing.

Mum Hang these on the line for me there’s a good girl. I have a big pot of soup on for lunch and I want to add a few spuds.

Before heading back to the kitchen mum went in to the greenhouse and took a bunch of fresh parsley from a pot.

The washing consisted two sets of white sheets and pillow cases and I pegged them on the line. There’s something quite satisfying, I think, in pegging washing on a line. Especially, whites when they billow against a bright blue sky. Jesus I am beginning to sound like a Stepford wife and I don't even have a husband. I was thinking this when my thoughts were interrupted by a rustling sound in the hedge at the bottom of the garden.

Male voice Hello Eve

Me Oh hello

Male voice Good to see you Eve…it’s been a while

Me Hi Chris…yeah, it’s been a while

CC How are you?

Chris Clavin or CC as BF and I called him had a glass of wine in his hand. Just as I was about to answer him a gust of wind separated the sheets on the line and for a few seconds it was like I was standing in the middle of an Arabian tent when I said it. I can’t believe I feckin’ said it.

Me Oh you know…between the sheets I’m fine.

My legs nearly left me. I was trying to regain my composure when I heard mum calling me for lunch. Saved by the lunch bell.

Me Must dash (exit stage left followed by a bear – well actually peals of laugher)

All our ones are really loud and when I reported what I said there was a screaming match. Mum tried to look shocked but she just couldn’t keep from laughing.
Dad came in to the room wanting to know what the racket was about and cautioning us that the neighbours in the next street would be able to hear us.

All(except dad) even louder laughter and squeals

Note to self: Remind our Máiread about the cherry tree.
Think before speaking with handsome neighbours. Handsome…CC…what’s happening to me?

I used to hate country and western music but must confess I actually have grown to like it. Providing that is of course that it is in the right hands. It’s funny but I can’t actually say when the liking came about. I suppose it just sort of evolved. I love Dolly Parton and Johnny Cash and granny used to sing Marty Robbins songs when I was tiny. Marty who? Now I know for a fact that our Máiread and Peter love country music and are big into line dancing. They first met at a charity line dancing event and have been stepping out ever since. Máiread told me this morning that they have been trying for a baby for so long that they have lost sight of each other. When M&P was carved on the cherry tree they were besotted with each other. They have just got lost. Now I know you’re probably thinking that I need to sort myself our before I start trying to fix things for everyone else. Perhaps…

That evening dad, mum, Máiread, Alice and me went to the local pub and the place was jumping with country music. The poster on the front door was a bit suspect and Big H the DJ turned out dad’s mate Harry. Firstly, let me say that he is a really nice man but seeing him kitted out in cowboy gear was hilarious. Mum and Máiread saw nothing funny at all. Dad, Alice and I nearly broke down. Big H’s (and you have to be careful how you say H in this place because depending on how you say it tells if you are Catholic or Protestant) gig is set to be a regular feature. He was encouraging anyone who could and those who couldn’t dance to hit the floor. Alice and I both chorused not a chance. Drinks a wonderful thing. A few drinks later our feet were tapping and before we knew it we were up on the floor to the sound of Shania Twain's ‘Man I feel like a woman’! The three lines of dancers (no men) included mum and Máiread. As there was no room in any of the lines Alice and I had to go it alone and we did. Everyone else went one way and we went the other. It was actually very tricky and I was just getting the hang of it when Big H played ‘Horse it in to you Cynthia you’re the girl for me’. The dance floor was packed and Alice and I tried our best to jive and we had such a laugh. Then we were hit with a slow set and Alice and I legged it back to our seats. If you saw our Alice in her skinny jeans and stilettos you would understand the term legging it. Mum and Máiread became a couple. Máiread, being the tallest, assumed the male role and they whirled their way around the floor like there was no tomorrow.

The highlight of the evening was the local talent spot… a sort of country karaoke. Anyhow, this gave the opportunity for budding Shania’s, Dollies or even Johhny’s to strut their stuff. There was even a piano or guitar provided for the real professionals but there were no takers

It was a great craic and the first winner of the first Big H’s talent spot was Barney from Barney’s Baps our local baker famous for his gorgeous bread and fancy cakes! He did his Elvis impersonation and belted out ‘In the Ghetto’.

As the snow flies
On a cold and grey Chicago mornin'
A poor little baby child is born
In the ghetto (to which we all sang ‘baked a gateaux’
And his mama cries
'cause if there's one thing that she don't need
it's another hungry mouth to feed
baked a gateaux……


Alice and I had a look through Big H’s County Karaoke song selection. Not I hasten to add that we were even remotely thinking of entering the talent spot. Some of the song titles were dead dodgy and I can’t wait to tell BF. She knows Big H and come to think of it she probably knows Cynthia as well. She probably prosecuted her.
Notable song titles from Big H’s Country Karaoke Selection

Velcro Arms, Teflon Heart
The last word in lonesome is ‘me’ (that struck a chord!)
She made toothpicks our of the timber of my heart
I wouldn’t take her to a dog fight because I’m afraid she’d win
I thought she was out jogging, but she was running around and me

And finally la Piece de la resistance: Take your tongue out of my mouth I’m kissing you goodbye.

We got home just before midnight and not my usual hedonistic time of around dawn. When the last light went out it was like a scene from the Walton’s. Good night Eve. Good night Máiread. Good night Alice etc etc.

The next morning I was first to get up and with mug of tea in hand I went out and sat on the summer seat. Believe it or not it was 7.30am and when I looked out and saw how sunny it was it seemed a shame to waste such a beautiful morning. It has to be the first Sunday morning in a long, long time that I have not been in a hung-over state and looking for a cure. Don’t get me wrong but I did have a few drinks last night just not the usual mix of coloured petrol bombs and shots (must be a Belfast thing. Instead I actually enjoyed a couple of glasses of Guinness which I normally only drink when I am in Dublin or Donegal. So here I am sitting in my pyjamas. Now let me add that I am not a proper PJ girl as I would not dream of wearing them in the outside world. Imagined being spotted, named and shamed in the Andersons Town News text section!

Anyhow, enough of that I am sitting on a summer seat which is older than me and I am thinking about Guinness. Where would you get it eh? Remember earlier I confided that I wanted to work in advertising? Well, I think that I have come up with a cracker idea to attract female interest in drinking Guinness.

In Donegal at Easter I took a great picture of a pint and glass of GUINNES. The glasses were sitting side by side on a table against the window and I had already taken a sip out of the glass. Anyhow, because I had set my camera on the table to take it they looked like skyscrapers against the beautiful backdrop of an Irish bay which will remain nameless. I have called the picture ‘she couldn’t wait’. Couldn’t wait for what? Well that’s a good question. I know the answer but I’m not going to tell you well not yet anyhow!
My thinking is that GUINNESS has a pub in the middle of it - inn. OK now that leaves (in the right order( GUESS) So without going in too much detail picture an old fashioned pub sign with a ? mark centered over the word INN. Imagine it creeking in the wind as it swings back and forward.

Who is she and why can she not wait? Where is the pub? Where is she?... Where am I?

Alice had come down to the kitchen to take some resolve to cure her hangover when she spotted me. I was lost in a bubble of thought when my silent cogitation was torpedoed by Alice’s dulcet tones …
Alice Feckin’ hell what are you doing out there at this time of the morning ye buck Alec ye?

Her voice bounced off several gable walls and I could have sworn I saw a curtain in and upstairs window in CC’s house twitch!

Note to self: remember to deck our Alice.


Sunday dinner was later than normal and it was really tasty and just what the doctor ordered. There was some craic around the table and when Alice picked at her dinner a resounding chorus of Horse it in to you Cynthia brought the house down. After dinner and can I say it was like old times we all retired to the living room to watch the television. There was nothing worth watching and looking through the box of old videos I came across my favourite of all time: The Sound of Music. God I love that film and as a child used to watch it non-stop. So you can imagine I absolutely loved the search to find Maria for the new West End production of the show. I am not a singer but I love to sing and boy what I wouldn’t give to sing for a living. Ah well not a chance but maybe, just maybe I can find my way in to the world of advertising. Who knows, if the head of Diago is a woman then perhaps she is reading this. But that’s unlikely and I don’t mean reading my journal I mean that the head of Diageo being a woman. I am sure you know what I mean glass ceiling and all that jazz. So if the head is a man and you are his wife please tell him about my idea and I’ll be your friend for life.

The next day Monday was the first day of my holidays and I was so glad that I did not have to go in to work. Máiread is also on the start of her holidays and this was another reason that she’s back in the nest because Peter thought he would renovate their home instead of taking a much needed holiday. Angela is between jobs. Angela is always between jobs. She told me yesterday that she would love to be an air hostess and I was going to say to her that she would be great at it because her head is always in the clouds but I didn’t.
Mum, Máiread, Angela and I decided go in to town for a bit of retail therapy and a nice lunch. God love mum she has worked hard all her life and although we weren’t well to do we never went without. She stopped working last year when dad inherited (completely out of the blue) a fair bit of money from a great uncle of his who died in the States. It literally was money from America. A confirmed bachelor he left all his money to my gran who in turn gave it all to dad and his brother Jack. Even divided between the two of them it was still a lot of money. But despite this money, old habits die hard, mum has yet to spend any on her self despite encouragement from dad. Dad gave us all a sizeable amount each and said he felt that it was better to have a living will and hoped rather than dictated that we put it to good use. Mine believe it or not is in the bank for a rainy day. And maybe this is my rainy day, week or year in that I am not sure where I am at and in what direction I want to go in. Yes, I know I said I want to work in advertising but I don’t mean like that. I mean in terms of meeting someone and falling in love and maybe somewhere down the line getting married. Did I tell you that I am twenty seven? I am twenty seven and fed up with my weekends dedicated to finding Mr Right. Well I am fed up and most if not all of my friends including BF are starting to settle down.

Anyhow, we were standing at the bus stop when a black hack (taxi to the uninitiated) that was travelling in the other direction did a hand-break turn and screeched to a halt in front of us. Mum said bloody cowboy. She must have been psychic as the cab was driven by a cowboy. Yip, it was none other than Big H in the driving seat. He was on his way home for a break but thought he would do the neighbourly thing and drop us in town. First he had to drop of lunch as his Girtie was expecting him. I had actually forgotten that he lives in the same street as CC. So there we were the stylish Gallagher girls sitting in the back of a black hack outside Big H’s hacienda, complete with wagon wheels on the walls, singing along to Johnny Cash’s boy named Sue when CC came down his pathway. I crawled down on to the floor of the cab to avoid him and you know the funny thing is mum and my sisters didn’t even notice. They continued singing.

Big H Hello son are you going out for a dander?

CC Hi, Harry I’m heading in to town to meet my mates.

Big H Sure jump in to the back I’m dropping the Gallagher girls downtown so you might as well take a seat in the back. But if that's too frightening for you can sit in the front with me.

CC I’ll take my chances.

Me Feck. Double feck.

A black taxi is allowed to take six passengers in total. Five in the back: three sitting on the back seat and two sitting on pull down seats behind the driver and the front passenger’s seat. Prior to crawling down on the floor I had been sitting on the back seat facing an empty pull down seat when he opened the door.

CC Have you lost something?

Me (under my breath) only my dignity but what’s new( as I got back up on my seat).

CC Hello Mrs Gallagher it is nice to see you again.

Mum Hello Christopher goodness you have changed since the last time I saw you. Are you home for a while?

CC I’m in between apartments at the moment and will be moving in to a new one shortly.

The conversation continued the whole journey with mum pumping him for information. After we climbed out of the taxi in Castle Street Big H refused to take any money. Now as you know there no such thing as a free lunch equally there is no such thing as a free taxi ride. Big H extracted promises that we come back the following week for a C&W charity jamboree that he was in the throes of organising. Because it was for charity and because he was a mate of dads everyone said yes they would and yes of course they would wear suitable outfits. The three of us even agreed to act as hostess in the saloon selling ballet tickets etc. Can’t speak for others but must remember to look back on previous notes to self in respect of saying no. Add a new one: get professional help. Just as we were walking away from the taxi I heard Big H gulder at CC telling him not to forget the jamboree. I felt weak when he said he wouldn’t miss it for the world and rummaging in my bag I found the horoscope section that I tore from the Irish News earlier.
Sagittarius: Part of you wants to be conscientious, another to be more selective about what you take on – and that’s wise. You will regret if you offer to do a favour for the wrong reasons. Only be generous with an open heart and be careful of future liabilities. Call me to fend off the potential for stress.

Further note to self: why do I do it to myself?
Find a therapist with view to doing uncovering work.

To be continued

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