Now in an attempt to get some ancient pictures up I have been experimenting and have found out that it ain"t easy, but I will persevere. Here is an arial one of our shop taken circa 1974 with the living accomodation to the left, post office and shop in the middle and the store to the right.
The first window to the left of the Post Office was my Parents bedroom. Now during this time we were having some arguments about my nocturnal activities with partiular emphasis on the hours I was keeping. So I actually moved to our other house opposite the church
and stayed with Margaret Ryan who ran the post office. How Margaret fitted in to the whole history of is another story, but she had worked for my Great Aunt Molly for years and was part of the furniture.
Now one particular Saturday my Father informed me that he required my car in the morning.
"I need to get the papers tomorrow and my car is fecked" says he
"Sound" says I
"Drop the keys through the fly window" says he
"Sound" says I
Well on my way back at some hour of the morning I cut the engine a bit back from the shop and coasted quietly into the car park in front. Stopped, stealthly opened the door, pushed the door shut with no noise at all. I approached the window and climbed on the sill and reached into the fly window to quietly place the keys on the inside.
Simple -- oh no it wasnt, I dropped the keys and they landed, with a noise that seemed loud enough to wake the dead, on the inside.
"What time do you call this" roared the ould lad
I got such a fright I slipped and put my foot through the lower window, fell back and landed on my arse on the ground. I picked myself up and was walking down the road muttering to myself when the lower window opened with a crash as the rest of the glass fell out and the ould lad was in full flow I can tell you. He surpassed himself in the expletive department and I actually stopped to listen, it was superb. He finally ran out of breath and silence ensued......
Sunday mornings were our busiest time directly after mass and I was in the shop helping out with a stony silence and turn to stone stares from the ould lad. I used to do Mrs Murphy"s shop for her working from her painstakingly written list when in a booming voice the ould lad started.
"What do you think of a son who breaks your bedroom window" says he
"ohh" says Mrs Murphy
"Aye, he put his foot through it last night" says he.
Cue shop full, all noise stopped, all eyes on me and ears on the ould lad.
"3 o"clock it was, came roaring into the front, jumped out of his car and kicked in the window" says he (economical with the truth a bit here Da eh !)
Chorus of ohs and ahs from the gathered womens institute.
"I have always done my best with that boy" says he
Chorus of aye"s - tut tut"s and evil stares at me
"No values these days, anyway Maam can I help you" says he to Mrs Maloney.
His public humiliation achieved he was back to normal...
Great days - great times - priceless
