We rebuilt our turf house, and a new TD officially opened it!
God knows, if we spent our lives looking over our shoulder to see who’s looking at us - smiling or frowning, sneering, crying or laughing - sure, life would be pretty mundane and unexciting.
I never attended a School for Free Thinking or got a Degree in Being True to Myself! I suppose the famous University of Life has honed my instinct over the years.
Acting on a hunch or an idea that suddenly arrives in my head - is that a rash, unintelligent action or simply doing things ‘My Way’? Lads, there are too many flock-followers and ‘keep your head down and say nothing’ types in this world.
I’ve often written of serendipity -some call it fluke, pure chance or coincidence, but whatever one calls it, I have often experienced it. Like when you might be talking about an absent friend or relation that you’ve not met with years, and then they turn up or make contact ‘out of the blue’ and there’s no way of explaining it.
When things like that happen, I often take a deep breath and just accept that ofttimes things happen or people appear and we cannot explain it. I don’t find it frightening or sinister – serendipity and mystery are part of the broad canvas of life and no-one ever told us that we are pure fountains of knowledge on every single matter.
Anyway, some readers might remember that in the spring of last year, that’s 2024, the year just gone, I wrote one week about the demise of an old timber structure here in our haggard, just above by the garden wall. For decades we had called that ‘building’ the Turf House, though turf had not been stored there since the 1950s.
It was built originally by my father in the 1940s from Ford’s boxes obtained from the famous factory in the Marina in Cork.
We used the house to store firewood - its proximity to the dwelling house meant that even if the fire went low of a cold and snowy winter’s night and one had to venture out for firewood, it was a short journey.
In the turf house, of course, over the years, things that were not good enough to use but not bad enough to throw away were stored. Things like old floorboards, backdrops from plays in the Hall, bicycles with one wheel, and broken wheelbarrows. We kept all these on the basis that some day ‘they might come in handy - of course they never did.
Though devoid of turf, we still used the ‘turf-house’ name always. On wet winter days we spent many an hour there chopping cipíns and cutting ash limbs with the billhook.
I can recall Paddy Geary in there when other farm-work was impossible. Paddy started working for my grandfather and father back in 1949 and was here with us until he finally retired in 1981, he died in 1985.
We have an open fire and a stove so we burn nothing but our own ash timber in both - and a little bit of turf with a few years, but that’s getting harder to obtain.
I was determined to build a new turf house, but something more substantial this time. I’m useless beyond word at building myself so, after a lot of false dawns, I finally got a friend to do the job for me.
That was in October, and I thought ’twould never be up and finished before the winter.
No timber poles this time, but steel pillars and joists with a non-drip cladded roof. In fairness, it turned out lovely altogether and was finally finished on Friday, November 29.
In years to come, the question will probably be asked in Mastermind or something like that ‘What happened in Ireland on November 29, 2024?’, well, one answer will be that Arnolds’ turf house got finished and the other answer will be that a general election took place on that day!
Well, one of the four TDs elected by the voters of Cork East was Noel McCarthy. A native of Cobh but based in Fermoy with years and a serving member of Cork County Council, it was Noel’s first victory in a general election. A good friend of mine, I was on the phone to him every hour on the Sunday the votes were being counted, transfers were transferred, and finally he ‘got in’.
I rang him again the following Tuesday to congratulate him and ask for a favour. I had no doubts or worries about my request.
They say all politics is local, and what could be more local or basic or ‘grass-roots’ than a turf-house?
Both Noel and myself knew that Paddy Geary, who had been so much of our farming story, was actually a distant cousin of Noel’s.
The newly-elected TD for Cork East readily agreed to my proposition.
I knew that with Government formation talks, the first day of the Dail, and trying to set up a Constituency Office in Fermoy, Noel would have few ‘blank’ days in his diary. He made a promise, and true to his word he kept it.
On Friday, December 20, we had a little gathering from all political hues - and none - here in the haggard. I said a few words on the links that bind us all and the importance of ‘getting back to basics’ in Irish politics.
Noel McCarthy TD cut the blue ribbon and unveiled a plaque in memory of Paddy. Noel said it was his first ‘Official Opening’ ceremony and he was thrilled to be in Bartlemy for this special occasion.
We spent that afternoon before Christmas in the dining room drinking tea and eating a bite and reminiscing and chatting. Politics isn’t always about the ‘corridors of power’ or the business of governing.
I wish Noel and all the TDs elected to the 34th Dail all the very best. We should never forget the ‘jewel’ we possess in democracy - many parts of the world long for peace, stability, and free elections.
Yes, it’s a long way from Arnolds’ Turf house in Bartlemy to Dail Éireann in Kildare Street, Dublin -not many TDs make such a journey but Noel has.
App?
