Sadly, the great teacher-writer Frank McCourt passed away yesterday Sunday July 19th 2009 at the age of 78, in New York. He had been suffering from skin cancer and subsequently menin- gitis.
Newspapers will write for days about the author of the famed "Angela's Ashes" & "Tis". His Pulitzer Prize winning writing will live on forever. Franks writing involved all of us. We felt as though we knew he and his brother Malachy well!!
He was born in New York, moved back to the slums of Limerick at the age of 4, enduring poverty and rampant alcoholism. At the age of 19 he returned to the U.S. Joining the army, it enabled him to get a college degree.
We are so familiar now with the book and movie. Are we all so familiar with Frank McCourt, the Teacher? He taught in New York high schools for 30 years. He taught English and Creative Writing. Now ,here's where freedom of speech becomes a great gift! I have a huge problem with teaching and education here. Why? I can only speak for my own experience. Both my kids go to a private Catholic School. Standards are high, discipline is great, God is allowed in the school BUT and a BIG but I don't feel like my kids are being educated. Education to me far exceeds the grades on the day. Ask my kids where Cairo is? Ask them about the Outer Hebrides? They are even developing a very narrow minded view of how the rest of the world operates. Some of what they come home with is quite frightening and it is from the teachers!!! Every subject is such a droning chore. Yes, I too went through much of this, I was not educated in Franks era in Ireland,thank God, but a more progressive learning one that Frank himself embodied. Open discussions about the subject at hand,questioning the why? Hating certain lines, loving others. Learning how to THINK for yourself is crucial. Isn't that our jobs as parents? Aren't we supposed to prepare our kids for life? Not just for High School or College? It's all so immediate. Instant gratification.
Frank McCourt was and is the standard for what a great and good teacher should be. Frank was interviewed by EducationWorld.com (Site for School issues and Education News). They asked him "So what kind of teacher did you want to be,then?"
His answer: "I don't know. How do you know anything until you do it?"
"THE MAIN THING IS TO FIND WHAT YOU LOVE" "There were people who liked teaching grammar . Kids are always resisting grammar because of the way that it's taught. But it needn't be like that. I think teachers who love a subject can find ways of making anything attractive"
Isn't this so true of everything. Doing what you love? You see it everywhere. Being passionate about something means you are always on.....it's your belief, it defines you. You live it, because it is you. Frank loved to teach. What a gift for his many students. Only this morning I read an article on one of the blogs that I follow http://www.thetoiletpaperentrepreneur.com/ about starting a business. The main point in there about your success and happiness was THE WHY? Why do you do it? Do you do it because you love it? When you do what you love, it shows.
Frank, rest in peace. May we all continue to learn from you. May I suggest reading his book, "Teacher Man". All of us has a bit of the teacher in us, if we continue to do what we love......
Monday, July 20, 2009
Saturday, July 18, 2009
POTATOES.....
Earlier today, I was trying to think of something nice to make for dinner tomorrow night. Needless to say,I have an abundant supply of cookbooks, but I was trying to just conjur something up from memory. Looking at the bag of "Fingerling Potatoes" in my kitchen, all I could think about was "New Potatoes". If you haven't tasted NEW POTATOES , then all I can say is you haven't lived !!
Being Irish, I am of course, to say the least a little biased, accepting that and moving swiftly on, my opinion is that I have yet to taste potatoes like those in Ireland!! Perhaps OPRAH should indeed pay it a visit !She has been quoted as saying that her idea of heaven was a good baked potato and someone to share it with.....
We are all aware of the Great Potato Famine of 1845, brought on by a blight. An airborne fungus that indeed originated in North America, carried in the holds of ships traveling to England. From here it spread across to Dublin. In September 1845, Ireland saw the leaves on it's potato plant turn black,shrivel and rot. We all know what followed.....................
Through Famine, Death and mass Emigration we managed to survive as we always seem to do.
In the words of the great WB YEATS "Being Irish, he had an abiding sense of tragedy which sustained him through temporary periods of joy" !!
That , has NOT changed.............NOT one bit.....
Anyway, back to my potatoes. NEW POTATOES in the summertime in Ireland are such a treat. They are boiled in their skins. When cooked the skins crack open, leaving a floury inside. A knob of KERRYGOLD butter, a little sea salt and some fresh parsley......mmmmmmmmm
There are numerous potato recipes out there. Some such books are written here in the U.S
Margaret Johnson, a friend of mine, who lives in Long Island, has written several Irish Cook Books. "The Irish Spirit", "The Irish Pub cookbook" & "The New Irish Table". Her books are beautifully written and filled with beautiful stories and photographs. You can check her out on her web site http://www.irishcook.com/
CHAMP & COLCANNON are Traditional Irish Potato dishes. Champ is a Northern dish and Colcannon more of a Southern dish. Champ is made by boiling potatoes. Next combine,milk and butter in a saucepan. Put chopped scallions into the warm mixture and let sit for a bit to soften the onion. Then, pour onto the potatoes and mash together.
Colcannon is made using finely chopped onions, cabbage and potatoes. In a pan , add a little water,chopped cabbage,salt & pepper. Lightly fry for 5 mins,tossing frequently. When the potatoes are cooked add them to the cabbage, along with chopped parsley and milk. Serve with lots of KERRYGOLD butter.............
Being Irish, I am of course, to say the least a little biased, accepting that and moving swiftly on, my opinion is that I have yet to taste potatoes like those in Ireland!! Perhaps OPRAH should indeed pay it a visit !She has been quoted as saying that her idea of heaven was a good baked potato and someone to share it with.....
We are all aware of the Great Potato Famine of 1845, brought on by a blight. An airborne fungus that indeed originated in North America, carried in the holds of ships traveling to England. From here it spread across to Dublin. In September 1845, Ireland saw the leaves on it's potato plant turn black,shrivel and rot. We all know what followed.....................
Through Famine, Death and mass Emigration we managed to survive as we always seem to do.
In the words of the great WB YEATS "Being Irish, he had an abiding sense of tragedy which sustained him through temporary periods of joy" !!
That , has NOT changed.............NOT one bit.....
Anyway, back to my potatoes. NEW POTATOES in the summertime in Ireland are such a treat. They are boiled in their skins. When cooked the skins crack open, leaving a floury inside. A knob of KERRYGOLD butter, a little sea salt and some fresh parsley......mmmmmmmmm
There are numerous potato recipes out there. Some such books are written here in the U.S
Margaret Johnson, a friend of mine, who lives in Long Island, has written several Irish Cook Books. "The Irish Spirit", "The Irish Pub cookbook" & "The New Irish Table". Her books are beautifully written and filled with beautiful stories and photographs. You can check her out on her web site http://www.irishcook.com/
CHAMP & COLCANNON are Traditional Irish Potato dishes. Champ is a Northern dish and Colcannon more of a Southern dish. Champ is made by boiling potatoes. Next combine,milk and butter in a saucepan. Put chopped scallions into the warm mixture and let sit for a bit to soften the onion. Then, pour onto the potatoes and mash together.
Colcannon is made using finely chopped onions, cabbage and potatoes. In a pan , add a little water,chopped cabbage,salt & pepper. Lightly fry for 5 mins,tossing frequently. When the potatoes are cooked add them to the cabbage, along with chopped parsley and milk. Serve with lots of KERRYGOLD butter.............
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Friday, July 10, 2009
HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS
HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS..........Never could a truer word be spoken... I just love all the old and ancient sayings. They are so wise. I don't think I have heard of a great modern saying yet ! even the Chinese have to rely on their ancient ones.
This morning I was noticing some construction on the roads . Made me think about the construction of the roads at home.! Odd, I know, but here in texas it is flat,flat,flat. Sure they have their challenges.extreme heat for one. I am from Cork City. The Irish for the word Cork is 'Corcaigh' which means bog. The centre of Cork is built on mostly islands in the tidal estuary of the River Lee. Channels of the river separated the islands, some were spanned as early as the 18th Century to form our principal Street, 'Patrick Street' or as we Corkonians know and call it affectionately 'Pana'
The 1st plan of Cork City dates back to circa 1545. St Patricks bridge was built in 1789 and was damaged by flood in 1853 when it was rebuilt.
I remember crossing this bridge every morning when I went to school , 'St Angelas, Patricks Hill' (Ursuline). Now ,there was a hill to climb every morning ! The view from the top was and still is quite simply, spectacular. The view has indeed changed ,of this ever evolving Street over the years. It has seen battles , Tall Ships, even embraced a young Margot Whelan aka MY MUM whizzing down on her bike, in the days when traffic was not a concern. It has seen my friends and I meander up and down hoping to get a look at our latest crush ,in the walls of 'Christian Brothers Boy School'.
This Street is ALWAYS alive. Even now. A street that meanders around to the GRAND PARADE. This is a street that was built over a river and when looking from 'Patricks Hill' the reminder is ever present. It is buzzing with people. Since leaving Ireland and living in major cities such as London,Dallas,Chicago...I am still amazed at the amount of people that are on the streets. Taxi ranks are busy, buses pulling in and out,buskers singing,sometimes well...sometimes not so well !! People congregating to meet outside 'Cashs' now 'Brown Thomas'.
Newspapers being sold on the streets. I can still remember the cry for the 'Evening Echo'. A Cork Institution, if ever there was one. Each and every day,rain or rain !! The papers were being sold....'ECHO....EVENING ECHO '......Sort of like a town crier........
So, from looking at parts of Preston Road in North Dallas roadworks to remembering HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS............It always is.
This morning I was noticing some construction on the roads . Made me think about the construction of the roads at home.! Odd, I know, but here in texas it is flat,flat,flat. Sure they have their challenges.extreme heat for one. I am from Cork City. The Irish for the word Cork is 'Corcaigh' which means bog. The centre of Cork is built on mostly islands in the tidal estuary of the River Lee. Channels of the river separated the islands, some were spanned as early as the 18th Century to form our principal Street, 'Patrick Street' or as we Corkonians know and call it affectionately 'Pana'
The 1st plan of Cork City dates back to circa 1545. St Patricks bridge was built in 1789 and was damaged by flood in 1853 when it was rebuilt.
I remember crossing this bridge every morning when I went to school , 'St Angelas, Patricks Hill' (Ursuline). Now ,there was a hill to climb every morning ! The view from the top was and still is quite simply, spectacular. The view has indeed changed ,of this ever evolving Street over the years. It has seen battles , Tall Ships, even embraced a young Margot Whelan aka MY MUM whizzing down on her bike, in the days when traffic was not a concern. It has seen my friends and I meander up and down hoping to get a look at our latest crush ,in the walls of 'Christian Brothers Boy School'.
This Street is ALWAYS alive. Even now. A street that meanders around to the GRAND PARADE. This is a street that was built over a river and when looking from 'Patricks Hill' the reminder is ever present. It is buzzing with people. Since leaving Ireland and living in major cities such as London,Dallas,Chicago...I am still amazed at the amount of people that are on the streets. Taxi ranks are busy, buses pulling in and out,buskers singing,sometimes well...sometimes not so well !! People congregating to meet outside 'Cashs' now 'Brown Thomas'.
Newspapers being sold on the streets. I can still remember the cry for the 'Evening Echo'. A Cork Institution, if ever there was one. Each and every day,rain or rain !! The papers were being sold....'ECHO....EVENING ECHO '......Sort of like a town crier........
So, from looking at parts of Preston Road in North Dallas roadworks to remembering HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS............It always is.
Friday, June 26, 2009
ANYONE WANT A 99 ?!
Life with 4 kids did not mean that my parents were our entertainment committee during the summer months. When my father finished work, he often piled us and any of our friends that wanted to join us ,in the car, and off we went to either Roberts Cove or Rocky Bay for an evening swim.
The drive was approx 30 mins from our house. We drove through Carrigaline,on past Minane Bridge and then waited with baited breath for that bumb in the road where Dad would speed up and drive the car as fast as he could, so that we flew over it and felt the feeling in your tummy like that on a Roller Coaster ride! Cheap thrills. We also had it to look forward to on the way back !!
I still remember him saying the same thing each and every time we approached any beach. "Lets see who is first to see the sea" Craning our necks,we all wanted to be the first to see that familiar sight in the horizon. Honestly, I still love that view of the sea coming in to view. The endless beauty,that is the Atlantic.
Whoever came up with the idea of dressing at the beach? What a feat. Even the infamous Rowan Atkinson aka MR BEAN had trouble undressing at the beach. Remember that scene?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S8pJIiV9KWo If not , you can watch and enjoy here!!
Anyway,I used to hold the towel between my teeth and try to to pull the skintight SPEEDO up without letting the towel drop! I used to imagine people hiding in the cliffs. You know how it is, there were hoards of Irish people roaming the cliffs to get a view of my bum , or indeed my THEN 2 pancakes !! (my how I made up for those !)
Swimming in the evening was, I must admit, even then a serene time. The stillness was almost tangible and peaceful. Water temperature was at best frigid, but we thought for some reason that it was bath water ! After the evening swim, the task of getting dressed again became a feat soon mastered. After all...necessity is the mother of invention !
On the drive home,we would stop at Collins SuperValu in Carrigaline for a 99.
Yes, I said a 99, not any other number !!!! The 99 was and still is ,a soft whip ice cream cone with a Cadburys flake stuck in it .........Mmmmmm
To this day, no one knows where this name came from. Many theories. Some say it was an advertsing campaign by Cadbury's back in the 1930's in the UK. Theories that it originated back to Italy,and the most recent was in Edinburgh claiming its invention. Either way, I don't really care. I love 99's !!
The drive was approx 30 mins from our house. We drove through Carrigaline,on past Minane Bridge and then waited with baited breath for that bumb in the road where Dad would speed up and drive the car as fast as he could, so that we flew over it and felt the feeling in your tummy like that on a Roller Coaster ride! Cheap thrills. We also had it to look forward to on the way back !!
I still remember him saying the same thing each and every time we approached any beach. "Lets see who is first to see the sea" Craning our necks,we all wanted to be the first to see that familiar sight in the horizon. Honestly, I still love that view of the sea coming in to view. The endless beauty,that is the Atlantic.
Whoever came up with the idea of dressing at the beach? What a feat. Even the infamous Rowan Atkinson aka MR BEAN had trouble undressing at the beach. Remember that scene?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S8pJIiV9KWo If not , you can watch and enjoy here!!
Anyway,I used to hold the towel between my teeth and try to to pull the skintight SPEEDO up without letting the towel drop! I used to imagine people hiding in the cliffs. You know how it is, there were hoards of Irish people roaming the cliffs to get a view of my bum , or indeed my THEN 2 pancakes !! (my how I made up for those !)
Swimming in the evening was, I must admit, even then a serene time. The stillness was almost tangible and peaceful. Water temperature was at best frigid, but we thought for some reason that it was bath water ! After the evening swim, the task of getting dressed again became a feat soon mastered. After all...necessity is the mother of invention !
On the drive home,we would stop at Collins SuperValu in Carrigaline for a 99.
Yes, I said a 99, not any other number !!!! The 99 was and still is ,a soft whip ice cream cone with a Cadburys flake stuck in it .........Mmmmmm
To this day, no one knows where this name came from. Many theories. Some say it was an advertsing campaign by Cadbury's back in the 1930's in the UK. Theories that it originated back to Italy,and the most recent was in Edinburgh claiming its invention. Either way, I don't really care. I love 99's !!
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
BLACKBERRIES
This morning I made myself a bowl of granola with natural yoghurt and a handful of blackberries. I say handful as I have to compete with my oldest son James for the berries ! He simply devours anything with berry at the end ! Now, my husband doesn't much care for them. If he does,then it has been a great secret in our almost 16year marriage... So, I guess I have to conclude that James gets his taste buds from me!
I LOVED blackberries as a kid also. However,ours did not come in 8oz plastic containers for $3.99. They came in empty cans, buckets, basically any container you could get your hands on !! We had to pick them ourselves. Normally found sometime in late August or early September. The height of my blackberry picking happened between the ages of 9 and 12. After that I was far too mature to bother with such childish skirmishes.
To think slavery had been abolished. WRONG. My mother knew fine well what she was doing. Sending us poor innocents out amongst the brambles to pick her fare ! Now,as time goes by ,you become experienced at this prickly task. Initially , I would pick just after the rains. NOT a good idea. You see,one of the perks of blackberry picking is eating as you go...kind of like the old fashioned version of a drive through ! After the rain, the blackberries house tiny little worms!! mmmmm
Now,some of you may prefer to purchase yours in the stores and you may even have picked them yourselves in your past. What a pity our kids don't have the pleasure of foraging through the bramble and understanding where everything comes from. There are times during our early years,when we don't understand why we have to study and learn what we must study and learn. Later, it all becomes clear. During my years of studying Speech & Drama with Mrs Bracken ,as an extra curricular activity,some of the poetry and literature would escape me. Now , I can recall whilst writing this, studying some of the works of Seamus Heaney. His poem BLACKBERRY PICKING has never been so poignant as it is now.
" Late August,given heavy rain and sun
For a full week,the blackberries would ripen
At first,just one,a glossy purple clot
Among others,red,green,hard as a knot"
I think Mrs Bracken would be proud!
I LOVED blackberries as a kid also. However,ours did not come in 8oz plastic containers for $3.99. They came in empty cans, buckets, basically any container you could get your hands on !! We had to pick them ourselves. Normally found sometime in late August or early September. The height of my blackberry picking happened between the ages of 9 and 12. After that I was far too mature to bother with such childish skirmishes.
To think slavery had been abolished. WRONG. My mother knew fine well what she was doing. Sending us poor innocents out amongst the brambles to pick her fare ! Now,as time goes by ,you become experienced at this prickly task. Initially , I would pick just after the rains. NOT a good idea. You see,one of the perks of blackberry picking is eating as you go...kind of like the old fashioned version of a drive through ! After the rain, the blackberries house tiny little worms!! mmmmm
Now,some of you may prefer to purchase yours in the stores and you may even have picked them yourselves in your past. What a pity our kids don't have the pleasure of foraging through the bramble and understanding where everything comes from. There are times during our early years,when we don't understand why we have to study and learn what we must study and learn. Later, it all becomes clear. During my years of studying Speech & Drama with Mrs Bracken ,as an extra curricular activity,some of the poetry and literature would escape me. Now , I can recall whilst writing this, studying some of the works of Seamus Heaney. His poem BLACKBERRY PICKING has never been so poignant as it is now.
" Late August,given heavy rain and sun
For a full week,the blackberries would ripen
At first,just one,a glossy purple clot
Among others,red,green,hard as a knot"
I think Mrs Bracken would be proud!
Friday, June 19, 2009
NATURAL IRELAND !!
During the secondary school years , I had the fortune and yes I say fortune not misfortune to study the autobiography of PEIG SAYERS. Peig was born in Co Kerry in 1873. She is probably one of Irelands leading female Seanachai's....(storyteller). Most students, who remember this book being on the curriculum for the LEAVING CERTIFICATE, will probably roll their eyes. It was written in Irish. Therefore, we studied,discussed and wrote in Irish. All you eye rollers out there......halt. The great William Burke said " People will not look forward to posterity who ,never look backward to their ancestors" I believe also that we need to know and understand where we are coming from to know where we are going.
Peig lived a hard life. She was born in Dun Chaoin,Co Kerry (Dunquin). She married a fisherman and moved to the formidable Blasket Islands. A harsh existence. Her autobiography depicts tales of rural hardship. Devout catholics,still reeling from the aftermath of the GREAT FAMINE of 1845,and still recovering from penal laws. What can you expect? Her story is rife with tales of tragedy.
Life on the Blasket Islands was so tough that eventually it became uninhabitated and she moved back to the main land where she later died in 1958.
Fast Forward to today. 2009. I wonder what Peig would think of the progression to the infamous "CELTIC TIGER" economy and along with it comes politically correct beliefs . So much so, that her beloved Dingle coastline is now host to one of Irelands NATURIST beaches !
INCH BEACH in Co Kerry,is one of the best beaches in Ireland. If you go to http://www.irishnaturist.org/ , this is the description....
"It is one of the best in Ireland. It is more than 2 miles long and is backed by sand dunes. Walk for about a half a mile until you are past the textile bathers" !!!!!!!!!! I love that. TEXTILE BATHERS.
I used to walk for miles along the beaches with family on Sunday afternoons, rain or shine. I'm just picturing the walk today with the very same family members !! Namely Auntie Nora, Auntie Madge, Auntie Mary (Sr Mary that is) Gran, Mum ...........!!!! I'm sure Peig might find it somewhat of a shock to the system when mooring your boat after coming in from the Blaskets!
What an eyeful...is this what William Burke had in mind?!........
Peig lived a hard life. She was born in Dun Chaoin,Co Kerry (Dunquin). She married a fisherman and moved to the formidable Blasket Islands. A harsh existence. Her autobiography depicts tales of rural hardship. Devout catholics,still reeling from the aftermath of the GREAT FAMINE of 1845,and still recovering from penal laws. What can you expect? Her story is rife with tales of tragedy.
Life on the Blasket Islands was so tough that eventually it became uninhabitated and she moved back to the main land where she later died in 1958.
Fast Forward to today. 2009. I wonder what Peig would think of the progression to the infamous "CELTIC TIGER" economy and along with it comes politically correct beliefs . So much so, that her beloved Dingle coastline is now host to one of Irelands NATURIST beaches !
INCH BEACH in Co Kerry,is one of the best beaches in Ireland. If you go to http://www.irishnaturist.org/ , this is the description....
"It is one of the best in Ireland. It is more than 2 miles long and is backed by sand dunes. Walk for about a half a mile until you are past the textile bathers" !!!!!!!!!! I love that. TEXTILE BATHERS.
I used to walk for miles along the beaches with family on Sunday afternoons, rain or shine. I'm just picturing the walk today with the very same family members !! Namely Auntie Nora, Auntie Madge, Auntie Mary (Sr Mary that is) Gran, Mum ...........!!!! I'm sure Peig might find it somewhat of a shock to the system when mooring your boat after coming in from the Blaskets!
What an eyeful...is this what William Burke had in mind?!........
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