The Dubliners 50th anniversary… What’s your memory?

With the Dubliners 50th anniversary tour this year, I decided to dedicate a post to these legends…

I’ve been brought up on their stuff, so it’s hard to decide a favourite.

But the song ‘McAlpines Fusileers’ is right up there, as it reminds me of my Dad and his work life experiences through the years.

I couldn’t find my favourite rendition on youtube, so I decided to upload it myself, along with some photos (you’ll see it’s a song that brings a lot of graphic imagery into my head!).

The gravelly voiced singer is Ronnie drew, one of the original members who died in 2008… One of a kind!

I love the violin in the background- do you hear the bittersweet tone to it?


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Do your hands tell a story?

I love HANDS. Why? Because everyone’s hands tell a story. They’re so personal.

I know a girl who started crying when thinking about her late grandmothers hands. They bring back vivid memories.

… Memories that you can almost physically touch.

My Grandad’s are big, old, strong and veiny from all the years spent (and still at the mighty age of 90) farming.

What is that stain Granda?

I love the permanent black stain on his forefinger from prodding the tobacco into his pipe!

Who has your favourite hand(s)?

Categories: Culture, Just another day in the head | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

What is it with the Irish and spuds?

I know this must sound quite stereotypical, but do the Irish have a higher affinity for spuds? Most have a little Irish in them somewhere down the line… What have you found from your experience?

I know a cat called spud

My Dad, who is Irish by the way, eats spuds EVERY day. In very large quantities.

My Grandad is the same. They always order extra whenever they’re at a restaurant.

In fact, I remember one time my Grandad told the waitress ‘These spud are cold! Gimme some more will ye?’… When she came back with more, he’d eaten the cold ones!

His Grandad, my great great Grandfather, lived during the Irish potato famine… He lived until (don’t quote me on this) one hundred and ten! That’s epic, even for this day and age! Apparently, to survive he hid out in the back-hills and ate wild deer. Sounds pretty legendary to me.

In those days, they mainly ate potatoes as they were the only high calorie crop hardy enough to grow in abundance. Did you know that you can survive on milk and potatoes alone? (Although you’d get a molybdenum deficiency, so you’d need a wee bit of oats here and there). 

Consequently, most of my dinner plate has always been overshadowed by spuds. It’s only the past few years that I’ve really branched out into pasta and rice. Honest! I’ve been missing out, but sure, nothing beats a good ol’ spud!

Actually, my family often call them ‘purdy’, or ‘purdies’… I wonder where that one comes from?

But anyway, let’s be thankful that we even have a choice!

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