How Di I Know It'as Christmas.Meditation No 2

Meditation no 2. How I know its Christmas. Everyone who is anyone, those who think they are someone, right down to lowest Z list celebrity is flogging something. Books, DVD’s from would be writers, comedians, movie stars, TV presenters, mystics, fortune tellers. They are all in on the act and keen to rifle our thin lined pockets. Once again the stressed out, last minuet shopper will buy anything, that can be wrapped up, disguised as a present and which will sit comfortably under Christmas tree.
Companies want to sell us things we don’t need. A new mobile phone, which will make your will, and cook your dinner. Buy a new wall size flat screened TV. To enhance your viewing over the festive season. Buy a laptop; upgrade your computer, more power, bigger hard drive, more capacity, bigger, better, save money.
All in the good cause of giving us the experience of the happiest Christmas ever. Buy, buy, buy, and fill your house with junk, swell our bank balances.

Of course all thoughts and mention of global warming, ozone depletion and climate change are placed on the backburner, as the shops overload with all manner of product manufactured from paper and oil. Books, paper, DVD’s toys, you name, and there’s oil in there somewhere, that ever growing scarce commodity, and set to soar in price. The way things are going we might not be celebrating many more Christmases as we know them, if we continue on this destructive trend. So enjoy this Christmas and as many more as we can hope for. Trawl the shops and stores for that perfect present that you always wanted to give or to receive. Get it now while stocks last.!!

And so this is!!!!11

Christmas. Yes it's almost upon us again. It only seems like it was last weekend when we rang in the new year. The winter gave way to a pleasent spring, which in turn succuumbed to a wet dissapointing summer, which exited the stage to allow a pleasent autumn to bestow its grace upon us.
And now it's winter, with its, long days of darkness, cold and miserable weather conditions; not unlike summer, but for the length of the days. Wasn't it St Colmbcille who predicated that there would be little differance between the seasons, bar the length of the daylight hours. The first mention of global warming and climate change all those years ago.
But Christmas is one season that is hard to avoid. It's in your face from about mid October onwards. The first thing I noticed was a mass stockpile of buscuit tins in the local supermarket. Jesus who is going to eat all that stuff. And people will. Thats their idea of a good christmas, overloading on buiscuits. And then we wonder why there is a trend now a days towards obesity, bad digestions and in general,medicore health. People will visit their family and friends, and bring a tin of buiscuits. Great when you are stuck and can't think of anything else to buy, or when the creative side of your brain has temporily shut down and taken holiday. Pop in to the local supermarket, and grab a tin of your choice. Theere must be at least 1000 on display and God only knows who may more in the store room.
So thats my first observation of the approaching Christmas season.Over the next 5 weeks or so there will be lots, to see, do, ruminate and ponder upon. I'll be back with more ramblings and observations, so stay tuned to ths page.

Poor Auld Fellas

I found myself at the launch of this new book by journalist and writer Declan Lynch, in Easons of Dawson Street, Dublin on Tuesday night last. How did I come to be there. Connor Sheridan, phoned me on Tuesday afternoon and asked me if I'd like to come along. He had a message from Arthur Matthews, he of the FR Ted creation, inviting him along. Arthur was involved in the book, being responsible for most of the cartoons and illustrations.
You see Connor, myself and Arthur had been in a band togethr in the 1980's, Adored by Millions. Arthur was the drummer, Connor the lead singer and myself playing guitar.Arthur of coarse went on to fame and fortune in the world of comedy writing, with Fr Ted the big one that really took the world by storm/
I hadn't seen him since around 1988, so it was great to meet up again at the book launch on Tuesday night .
Barry Devlin , he of Horslips fame and later creating U2 videos offically launched the book, with Declan Lynch, the author then reading some excerpts from it.
The books takes a comic and satirical look at the old folk, men living in modern Ireland, especially in regard to their choice, or lack of ,TV viewing on RTE our national broadcaster.
Funny it is, as with anything Lynch or Matthews put their attentions to can only be. Afterwards we chatted with Barry Devlin recounting old tales and yarns form the great days of the Horslips gigs around the country. Nice, down to earth guy he is too.

Later we supped Guiness in Keoghs pub, and had a good auld chat with Thomas Walshe, he being the songwriter, vocalist, and main man of the band Pugwash. Ria, Arther's sister was also present. It is she who has been credited in introducing the Punk ,-new-wave music revolution to Ireland in the mid 70's.
So it wa s great to reconnect, with old friends and aquiantances, and to rub shoulders with the great and the good. We parted comapny, promising that it won't be a s long again until we meet. Oh, and, go and buy that book, Poor Auld Fellas.
Go and buy that book Poor Auld Fellas

Sarah's Christening

On Sunday last October 14th we christened Sarah in Maudabawn chapel, the same church where the other two, Emily in September 2005,an d Lisa in June 2003. The same church where w e were married in July 2000, and where I made my first confession in, was it 1967?
Fr Kevin Cooney officiated at the baptism, as he did for the other two . Weather was, plaesent , warm, calm, and sunny, making it all the more enjoyable.
So Sarah is now a fully fledged christian, and that's the way she will remain until she has the reason to decide otherwise when she reaches maturity.
You don't hear much about orignal sin these days; that's the one you are automatically born with, and it's only with the waters of baptism that's erased. You can believe it if you like and a lot do. Dosen't seem fair that a totally innocent baby should be burdened with this big sin, before they can even utter their first gutteral sound. Anyway., thats christianity for you.
Back to last Sunday. She has 4 god parentss all our children have, Rosie's brother Gerd, sister Valtroed, Helan Markey and Thomas Wershmoller. Tomas couldn't make the trip from Germany, but the others did along with Roswitha's mother and father, who have been present at the other christenings.
Afterwards we retired to our house in Drumbinnis.Rosemary Connelly, like on the previous occosions provided the excellent food. Sundays meal was up to it's usual high standard and was savoured by all. Later in the evening, Squire and I played a few songs to round off the occosion, and what was a most day.
That will be our last christening, definetly, definetly.

Newspaper Deluge

There are now 5 weekly newspaers circulating in Co Cavan, as I write, the date being October 8th 2007. Up until about 9 months ago it was the age old Anglo Celt that provided us the people of this noble county with our diet of weekly local news. The good old Celt has been around for longer than I care to remember. It was established some time towards the latter half of the 18th centuary. So at this satge it would be fair to say that it has gained a fair foothold on the local media scene.
Many would day that there isn't an awful lot in it. Take away the local news, court case reports, GAA and the adds and what would remain. Not a lot. It's abit like the Monthy Python, Life of Brian, scenario, of what did the Romans ever do for us?
Stiil you feel that if you didn't get the Celt one might miss something. The Celt in my yonger days came out on Fridays. That then changed to Thursdays,.In more recent times it came to hit the shelves by Wednesday evenings.
Then late last year the Cavan Echo appeared. This was a free paper and and a new competitor to the established Celt.To combat this the Celt issued a a similar free paper, The Cavan Life. So almost overnight we had 3 weekleys to choose from.
The Echo was ok. Has a couple of decent features, like a history page. They run a weekly latest story, take the camera out to local pubs and venues and publish out and about photos. The Celt also followed suit and began to do something similar. The Echo must be feeling very flattered.

Then in September of this year The Cavan Post hit the streets. Its part of a national media chain which has publications in most counties, including our nextdoor neighbours, Monaghan.
The Post Looks impressive, bulky, with many different features, locals news, court cases, out and about photos, fashion and as far as I can see it, like to publish photos of crashed cars.
The Post keeps it's articles short and to the point. It seems to be aimed at those to dont like wordy or detailed articles. You'll find the same court cases and local news as in the Celt, and indeed most of the other news as in the Celt. The Post comes out on a Tuesday, so they have some stories before the Celt and vica versa.
The Post does have a couples of good journalist, with flair, wit, oodles of satire and an obvious love of the English language. Something which I like in a writer and in a newspaper. I'm more into reading a well written piece over and above what it's about.
Paul O Dowd is the sports editior. Being a former goalkeeper for the Cavan County GAA team, he's gone from standing between the post to writing for the Post.GAA and sport is where he excels, but he could ,given the scope and space ,write about any subject under the sun and make it interesting. Perhaps he's using the Post as a springboard to something bigger on the national scene.
So there we were in September with 4 papers to choose from. Just when I felt it was safe to walk into a newsagents again and not be confronted with another new title, lo and behold there's another new one begging for my attention. Two weeks after the Post launched, The Cavan Voice popped its head above the parrapet. More photos from out and about, local news, courtcases, crashed cars. A more wordy paper then the Post, it seems to be aiming more at the serious reader, what ever type of beast he or she may be I'm not too sure. It's also giving away a free CD for the 1st 10 weeks. Irish Voices. Daniel O Donell was the first one inflicted on the reader.
I put it on one Sunday at lunchtime and my wife curtly ordered me to stop it as she didn't want to her eating experience spoiled and ruined. I complied with her request and put on Ry Cooder's Chavez Ravine album instead. I must say it sounds superior to DoD.
Dodgy CDs' aside, I like the Voice. It could be a good competitior to the Anglo Celt, but that will remain to be seen.
It's shame in a way that all these new titles have come all at once. The competition to the Anglo Celt could illiminate itself. It will be interesting from a readers viewpoint to see how long they last or which ones will prosper.
I remarked to someone that we won't need firelighters from now on during the winter when lighting the solid fuel stove, or indeed one will never be stranded in the house with no toliet paper.
So as it stands we have 5 weekly newspapers in County Cavan. People in far flung corners of the globe are slaving away felling swathes of precious rain forests, destabilising already fragile eco systems to provide the raw material to print these papers. The people of Co Cavan have never been as well informed about the goings on in our noble county. But at what cost to the global environment. Only time will tell the tale.
Now where did I leave my Irelands Own

Lisa 1st Day at School

Monday September 3rd, Lisa stepped inside Dernakesh National school for the first time. I first went there in 1965, and left in June 1973. So after an absance of 34 years our branch of the Reynolds family has once again a presence in the school.
It's changed a lot since my day, when it was your average, rural 3 room school. It was first extended in the late 70's and only last year, a new refurbishment was completed, costing in the region of 2 million.
Back in the 'good old days', the school with Paul McManus as principal, along with Mrs Currie, and Mrs McQuaid had a great reputation for learning and supplied well prepared pupils to the local secondary schools.
Today with a local man, Aogan Farrell at the helm and with a staff of 5 other teachers and a full time office adminstrator, the school strives onwards and upwards and maintains it's solid reputation for learning. Pupils come from adjacent parishes and from the town of Cootehill.

There is change, and as in most cases, things that haven't changed. You can still look out onto the same relatively un- spoilt landsacpe that we did 40 years ago. The main Cootehill - Bailieborough road is still there and the green of Kilatee, still looks as good as it did then.

So we all accompanied Lisa on her maiden excursion to the school, Roswitha, Emily and Sarah. It's great to be bringing her to the school that I was brought to in my uncle Denis's Morris Minor car in ,65. She was looking foreward to going, and of coarse meeting up once again with her friends from The Gallonray House playschool.

First day back can be traumatic, and there are usually tears, especially from the teachers, who are no doubt, still wishing that they could still be on holidays, now that the weather is at last getting good after a real bad summer!!!!!!.
Mr Foster the junior infants teacher soon had command of the suitation. First act of the day was to gather the new ones around him and with guitar in hand had them all singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. No sign of the old tuning fork that Mrs Currie used in my time for singing classes. And indeed no evidance of bottles filled with tea or milk for lunch time, and to be warmed around the open coal fire. Come to think of it, no sign of that old open coal fire. Well it's only September yet. No doubt they'll have it blazing heartily come the first nippy days of winter!!

I took a few photos for the local papers 1st Day at School feature, and off I went. Lisa seemed quite happy and relaxed to be in school, and looking foreward to some interesting years of learning. I think she'll be a good pupil. After all Paul McManus didn't knickname me Professor Reynolds for nothing you know.

Summer of 2007

Remember that Bryan Adams song, Summer of 69. Well the summer of 2007 will be remembered for a while, due to the fact that it seldom ceased raining. So we'll have to write a new song, to the air of the Adams classic.

Last Saturday 11th, August it rained as if it never rained in Ireland before. A torrential down pour. In it's wake roads were flooded, as drains from the fields gushed forth.
Sunday August 12th is the traditional date for the Moynalty Steam Thrashing Day, in Co Meath. We went along, all of us and brought wellies and boots. But even that wasn't enough. The grounds were a quagmire, an expanse of mud, churned up by machinery, people walking etc. Has the like of this ever been seen at this time of year before. There were a s always big crowds at the festival, but conditions underfoot were atrocious.
We paid our 20 euro admission and went inside. We could only walk along the gravel path at the foot of the large field, as most people were doing. This in turn caused a lot of congestion. There was no way we could walk up into the field to se the vinatge cars and the old farming methods displays., not with a childrens buggy to push.
So all we did was walk from one entrance gate across the bottom of the field, and exit at aonther gate further over, and paid money for the pleasure of doing so. There must be good reasons why we do such things, that can only be explained by a higher power.
A major dissapointment for all the patrons and indeed the organisers, who put such a big effort into staging this popular event.
Ok there's next year and the prospect of a better summer.

Monday 13th was bright and suuny and dry and perfect for the 2007 edition of Muff Fair, at Muff crossraods, near Kingscourt Co Cavan. Dating back to the 17th centuary, this is one of the oldest and longest survivng horse fairs in Ireland. Admission is free and that's why it's so popular with Cavan people.
Any what you get are a mix of people, young , old, rich poor, locals and those from farther afield coming here each August. This Fair isn't listed in many tourist guides, so as a result the tourists who come looking for the real Ireland, rarely find it. But it's here at Muff for one day of them year.
Horses are bought and sold, people man stalls selling all sorts of nick knaks, and all sorts of rubbish bin material. There's always a spot of illegal gambling, which the Gardai on patrol keep an eye on, but in keeping with the ethos of the event don't attemp to illiminate or stamp out.
There's a pub and dancing floor set up in an adjacent barn. The fun begins AT 3.00pm. It's a great novelty to be able to have a drink and dance in a barn on a Monday afternoon. Muff falls on the 12th of August, but as was this year when that date is on a Sunday the fair is deferred to Monaday. Tradition is not broken here
I was there with my camera, took some photos which you'll see here, and some of which were published in the local Anglo Celt paper.
You will also find some more on my website www.reynoldsphotos.com, and if you so wish can purchase some from the website

Sarah Reynolds

Our 3rd daughter, Sarah Reynolds was safely born at 1.10am on Friday 29th June 2007. Both mother and daughter are in fine fettle after a 7 hour labour. Lisa, 4 and Emily 2 are also thrilled with their new sister whom they saw for the first time when we all visted Cavan General Hospital on Friday evening.
Women and mothers really have to endure an extereme amount of pain and suffering to bring their offspring into the world, there's no doubt about that. I say so , having been present at all 3 labours. If we men had to do such a thing, I'm not sure if we could a s easily pul it off. But then He who created woman provided them with the neccesary charcter and pain thresholds to cope with such occosions. It was Lisa's idea that the new baby, if it was girl should be named Sarah. It sounded good to both Roswitha and I so we went with that.
My cousin, Noreen in LA also has a daughter called Sarah.
Fleetwood Mac, Thin Lizzy and Hall and Oates have songs with that name, so we won't be stuck for songs to sing to her.
She has bigfeet,(Reynolds feet) and hands. At the moment that's the way it looks, and only time will tell what other Reynolds traits and characteristics Sarah has inherited.

The Rolling Stones Come to Ireland

The Rolling Stones will play at Slane Castle, Co Meath on Saturday August 18th. I've got my ticket.These days with internet booking concerts can be sold out in a matter of minuets or at least within an hour. When I logged in all the 'cheap'standing only tickets at €85.00 were gone. So I had to opt for the more expensive ones, €136.00 located within the seated area.So I'll be able to rattle my jewllery along with all the others in the 'posh' enclosure.
I first saw the 'Stones, at the same venue on a warm sunny day in July 1982. The Chieftans and George Thorogood palyed support on that memorable day.
Hard to imagine that it's all of 25 years ago, and to think that even back then, the greatest Rock n Roll band were deemed old hat and over the hill. At that stage they'd been around for over 20 years.
But here we are in 2007 . They are still packing them in, and confounding all the critics and maybe medics as they contiune to roll around the globe playing their back catalogue of hits and amassing an even greater fortune.
There's gigs that come on stream and I might think about going and then decide not to bother. For the Stones, it was a case of not having to think, but just get in there, get the ticket at any price and be there on the 18th of August inside the grounds of Lord Henry Mountcharles gaffe to be part of,and witness one the the great legands of modern music and rock n roll.
Myself, the Stones and the rest of us only live once, and what a great time to have lived and still be living in.
I'll have a report of the gig and maybe some photos, if I can smuggle in a decent camera and long lense , shortly after the August concert.

Fathers Day

Sunday 17th was Fathers Day. I didn't get a card. Ah,Ah,Ah,feck it. Unusual that my wife forgets these things. Not even a self made, DIY, masterpiece from 4 year old Lisa. Altough, if she had been informed, she would have hastily got to work , with crayons, pencils and paper and produced a product dedicated to my good self.
Any way I could forgive Roswitha. She's got bigger concerns at this time, namely the June 23rd due date for our 3rd child.
She wasn't out shopping on Saturday, and thus didn't see all the beautiful cards on display in the local supermarket. Had she been out in town, undoubtdley she would have presented me with one on Sunday morning.
Now I could have bought one for myself, but who in their right mind would do that?
So that was it Fathers Day 2007. I went out for a 2 hour cycle and that wa s better than any card. The dinner she cooked was also superior to any gimmicky Fathers Day card. These things were invented by the Card companies to generate revenue.
In my young day there weren't many Fathers or Mothers day cards. Hardly new what a birthday card looked like. God bless us did it do us any harm.
I remrked to Roswitha, at tea time when she admitted to only then realising that it wa s Fathers Day, that I'd prefere that it was she who forgot me on Fathers day, raher than I forgetting her on mothers day. I'd say I wouldn't get away as handy with forgetting such an occosion

Already looking foreward to Fathers Day 2008

The Weather

In this country it's always a topic of conversation. Thats a good thing, as it allows you to strike up an introductory conversation with a total stranger.Everyone, regardless of colour, creed, level of knowledge or edcuation can make and conduct informed conversations about the weather.
It's there in our faces, 24 hours a day, and is always doing something. Since the dawn of time there hasn't been a day when there wasn't weather. Since mankind dwelt in the cave, I'm sure it wa s a common topic of conversation.
In Ireland, one could say we are blessed with a temperate climate. No extremes of either, cold, or heat, or wind or storm.Ok in the summertime we could do with more sunshine and warmer days.Perhaps the beginnings of what is know as global warming will grant us such conditions, for the better or worse. In general during the summer season we usually get a tasty morsel of glorious weather for 7 to 10 day peroids.
Last week we had a good spell. Dry from morning until sunset with temperatures in the mid 20's, slight summer breezes which made for pleasent conditions and indeed plaesent expressions on peoples faces.
However we a s a race have a tendancy to complain about the weather, and also to be pessamastic about the longevity of a good spell.
I remarked to the bank teller last week, when she mentioned how nice it was,'give it a day or two and people will be complaining about the heat'
Talk about the good weather and the pessamists will say,'ah but I think threre is a change coming on the weekend,we''l pay for this later'.
It's as if we don't feel worthy that we should be getting good weather. There is a gulit thing in us about having something such plaesent things in our lives. That could be a throw back to our religious upbringing. Those negative feelings are hard to shake off.
Ok, today it's raining again. The sun hasen't shone in two days, the wind blows from the north east , and it's been raining almost constanlty.
For me, I can accept whatever nature dishes up, believing that it's for the best. Last week during the dry spell I had to water, gardens and vegatables day and night. I come home from work at 6.30 and when as is the case in mid June, I can easily spend a couple of hours rooting about the garden.
The wet evenings confines you to the comfort of the house. A time to catch up on recreational things, like reading, music, TV etc. The watering of the garden is done for me by the clouds. The rain and inclement weather has a lot of posatives both for man, beast and what grows in nature.
I promise never to complain about the weather again, except if it's during the coarse of a casual conversation with a stranger when I'll agree with them about the bad state of the weather, out of politiness more than anything else.
'Now would you turn on that wireless till I hear the weather, we might get that hay baled this evening if it keeps up'.