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Don’t Quit (A poem by Gerard Haughey.)
When things go wrong, as they sometimes will, when the road you’re trudging seems all uphill,
When the funds are low and the debts are high, and you want to smile, but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit, rest, if you must, but don’t you quit.
 Life is queer with its twists and turns, as every one of us sometimes learns,
And many a failure turns about, when he might have won had he stuck it out;
Don’t give up though the pace seems slow, you may succeed with another blow.
Often the goal is nearer than, it seems to a faint and faltering man,
Often the struggler has given up, when he might have captured the victor’s cup,
And he learned too late when the night slipped down, how close he was to the golden crown.
Success is failure turned inside out, the silver tint of the clouds of doubt,
And you never can tell how close you are, it may be near when it seems so far,
So stick to the fight when you’re hardest hit, it’s when things seem worst that you must not quit.
In today’s Ireland regrettably, “What you seize is what you get.“
EXPERIENCE “ELEGY WRITTEN IN AN ‘UPPERCHURCH,’ YARD.” (With sincere apologies to poet Thomas Gray)
“The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, the lowing herd winds slowly o’er the lea,
The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, and leaves the world to torchlight and to me.
Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, and all the air a solemn stillness holds,
Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, and drowsy tinklings lull the Upperchurch folds.
So what are ye up to on Friday Nov 9th next? Usual old Friday night activity I suppose. Boring Late Late Show, lounging in front of the TV, stuck ‘gaming,’ on the Play-station, or simply uploading text on Facebook in the hope of a LIKE. Am I right?
 So time to take a break, grab HERSELF and steal away from that old constant Friday night drudgery, by experiencing at first hand the aforementioned poetic lines above, in that magnificent, wild, unspoilt and uncontrolled heavenly environment, that is Upperchurch, Thurles, here in Co.Tipperary.
Take HERSELF, instead, on a romantic torchlight stroll through beautiful farmland, quiet country roads, hills and lowlands and continue to stretch your legs on a variety of other walks, for all abilities, ranging from 6km to 18km on Saturday Nov 10th and Sunday Nov 11th also. This is not just my advice, it’s also the advice of the Upperchurch /Drombane Development Association, latter organising their annual Weekend Winter walks. Your kids will so enjoy the wide open space and the clear, pure hilly air.
Note: The Friday night walk is free of admission charges & complimentary refreshments will be provided after all the weekend’s events.
Suitable Gear
Walkers do not need to be reminded, but are nevertheless advised to bring suitable footwear, rain gear, a backpack with a snack, drinks and possibly a change of clothes. Remember Strictly No Dogs.
If your legs are up for it after hiking through the hills, there are free set dancing lessons on Saturday evening & traditional music will be provided in all the local pubs during the weekend. There will be free set dancing lessons on Saturday evening at 5.00 p.m. in Oliver Ryan’s Pub and visiting musicians and performers are as usual very welcome.
Upperchurch/Drombane Development Association wish to thank sincerely all area landowners for their co-operation, over this weekend’s events.
Remember: Walking Weekend 9th, 10th & 11th November
Registration Fee Adults: €10
Post Primary Students: €5
Primary School Students: Free.
Further Details: Click here on www.upperchurch.ie.
Trees – (Poetry by Alfred Joyce Kilmer.)
“I think that I shall never see, a poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest, against the sweet earth’s flowing breast.
A tree that looks at God all day and lifts her leafy arms to pray.
A tree that may in summer wear, a nest of robins in her hair.
Upon whose bosom snow has lain, who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me, but only God can make a tree.”
Tree Day, October 11th next, is an annual event, not just in Thurles, but on the whole island of Ireland, and is now enjoying its sixteenth year. It is one day in the primary school curriculum which is exclusively devoted to the study and direct experience of trees. All 3,200 primary schools across Ireland are encouraged to put away their school books for this day and learn about trees and the environment in general in a fun, relaxed yet stimulating setting.
 As already stated, Tree Day will be held this year in all primary schools on Thursday, 11th October 2012. The theme for this year’s Tree Day is “Dá mbeadh crainn in ann labhairt” or translated from the Irish “If trees could talk.” Keeping this theme in mind, children, with adults, parents and teachers are invited to explore the fascinating stories, the people and events of local, national and indeed world significance, that a tree growing in their locality may have experienced in its lifetime.
The aim of Tree Day is to create a visual learning experience that will enthuse and enlighten all children, by making them aware of the magic, the beauty and the importance of trees in our local environment.
Note: The event is being organised by the Tree Council of Ireland with the support of the Department of Education and Skills and is sponsored by Tetra Pak, with the support of Avonmore School Milk.
This Tree Day it is hoped that many schools will take the opportunity to participate in guided woodland walks at various locations throughout the country, enabling children to connect directly with nature in an enjoyable and safe way.
Several private nursing homes here in County Tipperary have been closed by the Health Information and Quality Authority (HIQA) over the past two year’s, to date.
 Details and analysis of HIQA visits have been published, & it is now likely that even more establishments will close later this year throughout Ireland. According to reports, the number of regulation breaches found in these now closed homes are considerable. Each of the centres received, on average, five inspections before facing such closure and despite being given agreed action plans and considerable time to improve their standards, an average of 17 months from their first inspection, these centres still failed to improve adequately.
The inspections found amongst other problems:- (1) Residents living in cold rooms. (2) Bad medication management. (3) Breaches of fire safety. (4) Elderly people being cared for by inadequate numbers of staff or unqualified persons. (5) Residents suffering from significant weight loss because of inadequate diet. (6) Staff sleeping on their watch, while on night duty. (7) Residents being manually handled without proper due care and attention. (8) Inappropriate language and terminology being used during this care.
Perhaps I am being a bit extreme, but having read some of these HIQA reports, on some of these now closed establishments, one cannot be but reminded of Auschwitz, Treblinka, Theresienstadt, Sachsenhausen, Dachau, Buchenwald and Bergen-Belsen where the weak and the aged were seen to have little or no value. Similar thoughts crossed my mind, as I observed people, suffering disabilities, forced to camp out overnight, outside the gates of our Irish Parliament, seeking the return of Personal Assistant Hours removed, without consultation, by the Health Service Executive, earlier in the week. One cannot help but wonder, however, why these nursing home problems are not being recognised by those of us who visit their elderly relatives, in these same private and quite often expensive now private institutions?
I came across this poem recently. Reputedly, it was written by a ‘Dementia Care Patient,’ in Aberdeen, Scotland and the poem was found by nurses, who were clearing out his locker after he had passed away. This poem hopefully will make us all pause for a little reflection and bring a shade of sadness and a blush of shame to the faces of our present leadership.
What Do You See
What do you see nurses, what do you see, what are you thinking when you’re looking at me?
A cranky old man, not very wise, uncertain of habit with faraway eyes?
Who dribbles his food and makes no reply, when you say in a loud voice ‘I do wish you’d try!’
Who seems not to notice the things that you do, & forever is losing a sock or a shoe?
Who, resisting or not, lets you do as you will, with bathing and feeding, the long day to fill.
Is that what you’re thinking, is that what you see? Then open your eyes nurse, you’re not looking at me.
I’ll tell you who I am, as I sit here so still, as I do at your bidding, as I eat at your will.
I’m a small child of ten with a father and mother, brothers and sisters, who love one another.
A young boy of sixteen, with wings on his feet, dreaming that soon now a lover he’ll meet.
A groom soon at twenty, my heart gives a leap, remembering the vows that I promised to keep.
At twenty five, now I have young of my own, who need me to guide and a secure happy home.
A man of thirty, my young now grown fast, bound to each other with ties that should last.
At forty, my young sons have grown and are gone, but my woman is beside me to see I don’t mourn.
At fifty, once more, babies play round my knee, again we know children, my loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me, my wife is now dead, I look at the future I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing young of their own & I think of the years & the love that I’ve known.
I’m now an old man and nature is cruel, it’s jest to make old age look like a fool.
The body it crumbles, grace and vigour depart, there is now a stone where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass a young man still dwells & now and again my battered heart swells
I remember the joys, I remember the pain & I’m loving and living life over again.
I think of the years, all too few gone too fast & accept the stark fact that nothing can last.
So open your eyes people, open and see, not a cranky old man, look closer … see ME!
Because of the Health Information and Quality Authority, hopefully good services & standards are now being recognised and nursing homes that continue to breach basic expected regulations will be closed.
Meanwhile, well known Cork story teller, Pat Speight, will visit Thurles Library on Friday October 5th for some intergenerational storytelling. This event is for grandparents and their grandchildren, and for anyone else who just loves a good story! Presented by Europe Direct Thurles for Positive Ageing Week, there will be two sessions at 11.00a.m. and 2.00p.m. Schools will be invited, but the event is open to the general public too. As with all library events, it is FREE. You can get a flavour of Pat’s story telling on his website www.patspeight.com
“The Cushag”
By Josephine Kermode (1852–1937)
(Latter word ‘Cushag,’ is the Isle of Man name for Ragwort or Senecio jacobea)
Now the Cushag we know, must never grow, where the farmer’s work is done.
But along the rills, in the heart of the hills, the Cushag may shine like the sun.
Where the golden flowers, have fairy powers, to gladden our hearts with their grace.
And in Vannin Veg Veen, in the valleys green, the Cushags have still a place.
(Note: Vannin Veg Veen is Manx for “Dear Little Isle of Man.”)
Confusion
If you had asked the question, “What is the definition of the word ‘Confusion,” some years ago, the standard reply usually used was “Father’s Day in Ballymun,” but this is no longer an accurate or valid definition, in our present fiscal climate.
The Local Government Management Agencies (LGMA) Chief Executive Paul McSweeney stated in the last few days that action will be taken in the coming months against homeowners who are non-compliant through failing to pay their €100 Household Charge, although the LGMA are reluctant to do so. “Letter number two will be going out now to landlords. Certainly we would expect that after three letters, some action is going to need to be taken,” he stated. “To be honest, we’re not really interested in doing that. We want to provide local services & taking people to court, or prosecuting them, that’s not the business we’re in. We are in the business of supplying local services to communities.”
In 2006, the total number of people resident in Tipperary on the work force numbered around 71,000, North & South of the County. Approximately 5,700 were listed as being unemployed in the same year. The work force has since risen to around 75,500, however the total out of work has risen to some 15,000, demonstrating an almost three-fold increase in the amount of people unemployed.
 Mare’s Fart or Ragwort Latest ‘Household Charge Data,’ shows that only around 4 out of every 10 householders in County Tipperary have paid this inequitable charge. By the time all the threatening letters are posted out, Mr Paul McSweeney may find that he has already spent the cost in stamps of what he has collected to-date, of Minister Phil Hogan’s unmerited, unjustifiable & inequitable tax.
Over 50% of Irish householders have now been forced to become criminals, since our present government wrote the Household charge into Irish legislation, thus allowing our court system to prosecute for non-compliance. Since the Government wielded the axe over North Tipperary Co. Council and other local authorities around the country, by cutting central funding by between 5% and 15%, it would appear Minister Hogan’s bullish approach and unjust new law is all set to create negative community reaction, to the level of recent Athens street riots.
Mare’s Fart or Ragwort
However all you “criminals,” out there, should take heart that such laws are rarely pursued, which brings me to the topic of ‘Mare’s Fart,’ one of the alternative Scottish names given to the toxic alkaloid weed known as Common Ragwort because of the foul unpleasant smell or stench of its leaves or better known here in Ireland as Bualachains or Buachalan Buidhe.
In the Republic of Ireland, the Noxious Weeds Order (Thistle, Ragwort, and Dock) came into force on January 1st 1937, issued under the Noxious Weeds Act of 1936, which declared ragwort as a poisonous plant, requiring landowners to control its growth.
Continue reading Confusion, Household Charge, Mare’s Fart, Water & Swallows
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