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Things don't change on Cuilce Mountain |
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Written by Michael Harding (Irish Times)
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Tuesday, 04 May 2010 13:03 |
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Though the Troubles are at their height outside, it's business as usual in a Border bar as an old man with a limp savours a new word.
I KNOW THAT the IRA were butchers, and the British Army were surgeons, but one was as bad as the other. I lived on the Border when Fermanagh was bleeding to death: farmers being blown to bits at the creamery, policemen shot dead going to Mass, and shopkeepers bleeding to death behind their own counters.
It was as if the fields were swamps of blood, and the wind carried the screech of the dead up the mountain.
But up on the slopes of Cuilce Mountain, there was a parallel world, of love songs, stories, and fun: a hidden lineage of tender narratives, which ordinary folk clung to, as the rushes cling to the ditch, and the knuckles of the hawthorn cling to the wind. I suppose ordinary folk just want to be human.
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Last Updated ( Tuesday, 04 May 2010 13:10 )
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Reaching The Top Of The World |
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Written by Paul Fitzpatrick (Anglo Celt)
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Tuesday, 27 April 2010 11:27 |
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Carolina to Copenhagen, Finland to
Fanore. Sometimes Declan Maguire wakes with his family in a strange
hotel and, you suspect, scratches his head in wonderment at how the
sport of golf has brought two teenage girls from west Cavan all over the
world.
Hope and history briefly rhymed when Sean
Quinn - a man in the news a lot at the moment - had the foresight in
1989 to construct a world class golf course from a small, wet corner of
"rock and rushes and fields". A few years later, Lisa and Leona took up
the sport as a pair of eager nine-year-olds, all goofy swings and giddy
strokes, and something magical was born.
Within a few months it became clear that the
twins had talent to burn and, more importantly, a fierce hunger for
success which belied their age.
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Written by Pat (‘Mickey Oiney’) McGovern
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Monday, 16 February 2009 13:46 |
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Throughout the first half of the Twentieth Century, he traversed the roads and mountain paths of many counties. Resolute, with heavily lined, time worn features, placid nature, invariably turned out in worn tweed suit, mouse eaten hat and homemade nailed boots, knew the song of the birds from early dawn. A journeyman, sheep dealer and drover, to him hardship a way of life, saw more winter dawns and moonlit nights on rain lashed roads and mountain paths from Glan Gap to Coolaney. in Sligo, Bangoriss, Crossmolina, Newport, Mulraney in Mayo. Maam and Leenane in Connemara, Barnes Gap in Donegal.
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Last Updated ( Monday, 16 February 2009 13:48 )
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Foley's New York 'Swish and Chips' |
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Written by Brian Markey
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Monday, 13 July 2009 10:49 |
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Foley's of New York launch "Swish and Chips". It was launched and named after New York Yankees player Nick Swisher, with one Dollar from every 'Swish and Chips' going to charity.
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Last Updated ( Monday, 13 July 2009 11:15 )
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Written by Pat (‘Mickey Oiney’) McGovern
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Monday, 16 February 2009 13:41 |
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Now roofless and melting into the earth,
the smoke stained wall marking the hearth.
The old man sits in his New York apartment
the grey buildings unchanging with the seasons.
Years dimming the memory
He forgets the grinding poverty,
the work weary Mother - too many children
Bare pickings for a couple of cows
among the rocks.
Dis-interested teachers
content with instilling the basic three R's.
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Last Updated ( Monday, 16 February 2009 13:45 )
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