Since I started blogging in 2014 I have set aside a blog for Christmas. It’s a break from my normal fare, but isn’t Christmas a break from routine too! At least for those of us lucky enough to have a job that doesn’t involve pulling a shift over it....
To celebrate Christmas this year, I thought I’d bring you the words across the Irish sea, an emigrant’s lament, a cousin of mine from the Russianside, but one of my grandmother’s generation. Fr Tom Doyle was one of two brothers to enter the...
We were based in Dunmore in the winter of 1983 for the Herring fishing but we returned home in the Reaper for Christmas, and along with all the other half-decker’s, manoeuvred inside Cheekpoint quay, where they could be moored without any concern for their safety....
Christmas time in my Grandmothers was marked by a hunt. It was her search for addresses for friends both at home and abroad, addresses she had scribbled on scraps of paper or cut from an envelope and squirrelled away. Some were in the glass case, others in her box of...
I’ve covered the Herring Drift Net Fishery in several parts these last few weeks, and today in the run up to Christmas, I wanted to recount an incident that made Christmas a little more poignant for me in the mid 1980’s. We were selling directly at the...
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