13 December Wednesday
Ever since the new motorway bypass was built we have had little reason to drive through Fermoy. As a town it is a little too far away to be useful for everyday things and not special enough for a visit on its own. Today we made a detour into town to take a photograph of the Fermoy Pencil. The pencil is located on the road leading out of town. It was a good moment for a photo as the pencil had been recently painted. It looked bright and clean and crisp and the graphite point was perfectly sharp. The pencil was originally erected as a sign post for the Faber-Castell company just down the road. The factory opened in 1954. They made any number of different writing implements. I do not know if the big pencil was erected right away. No doubt it has been replaced a few times. Kids carve their names in the wood of the pencil at least as high as they can reach. They never get up to the top. The pencil is about two and a half meters high. Whenever the column is repainted the words and names get filled in and the pencil once again becomes a smooth, new writing utensil. The Fermoy branch of the Faber-Castell factory closed in the early 90’s but people love the Columbus which is the name of this style of pencil. Tom Martin & Co. took over the distribution of the Columbus throughout the country. I assume the company is responsible for maintaining the pencil itself. I love the Fermoy Pencil.
12 December Tuesday
A damp struggle up the path today. It was not really a walk. It was a only a struggle. The really huge tree that was blocking all movement up or down has finally been cut and moved by Andrzej with a chain saw. Unfortunately, he ran out of both time and light to do any more clearing because that one tree took so long. There are still other trees in various angles of collapse. We straddled our way over one large one which was covered with ivy and very wet. I think it is the ivy that pulls some of these trees down. It strangles and weakens them. Most of the others just involved crawling underneath or a squeezing around. There are plenty of brambles tugging at our hats and skin. Still, after so many weeks or maybe two months, of not being able to walk that route it was a pleasure to be back up there again. I saw two pheasants and the fox.
Once we were out on the road, we saw Tom Cooney overseeing the moving of hay bales into his new shed. Tom Cooney always wears a big black hat with a large brim so even at a distance it is easy to know that it is himself. His hat is not exactly a cowboy hat, though maybe it is a cowboy hat. It has a distinctive look. Not one other person around here wears a hat like that. Tom Cooney drives a big black Land Rover and he has two large black dogs who go everywhere with him. Mostly they stay inside the vehicle while he is checking on things. If he lets them out to run around he cannot keep his attention on the job being done as he would need to keep all his attention on the dogs. The new shed is much bigger than the old shed. And now he has two sheds where before he only had one. The roof supports off the old shed have been removed. The old galvanized round top has been replaced with a flat roof. The metal was all deformed and bent after the roof blew off in the hurricane. I am glad I photographed it before it was replaced. Seeing the new roof makes it is hard to even remember what the old one looked like.
11 December Monday
Dilly is not the only one who ends her sentences with the words PLEASE GOD. Many people use these sentence endings. If I say “I shall see you on Wednesday” Dilly always adds the words “Please God”. Sometimes she says “God Willing”. Both endings embrace the assumption and a certain acceptance that the future is not something that is in your own hands.
10 December Sunday
Our Green Cone is a green plastic cone which is wider at the bottom that it is at the top. It is made so that we can throw bones and fish skin and any amount of horrible stuff which would not be appropriate in the compost heap. No rodents can dig down and get at anything because of the basket-like container at the bottom of the cone. The container is dug into the ground. We still use the regular compost heap for vegetable matter. The green cone gets the horrible things. If I go out to the cone at night I use the head torch so I can have two hands free for opening the top and tipping something inside. Last night my entire bowl, complete with fish skins and bones, slid into the cone. I closed the top and went back into the house. It was cold and dark and the contents of the cone smelled. My arm is not long enough to reach down into the cone even if I wanted to. I considered the bowl gone forever. It was a heart shaped sponge-ware bowl which had been a gift. Today Simon went out and rescued the bowl with the help of a long spade.
8 December Friday
Wild lashing rain with a bit of sun at rare intervals but really it is the kind of day to get soaked no matter what you do or how long you spend out of doors. Ned came down to fill the oil tank. We have to be at home when he comes. The generator needed to fill the tank must be plugged in to the house currant through an open window. A normal sized oil lorry will not fit down the boreen. Ned was soaked through when the job was done. He was happy to sit down with hot tea and biscuits. He spoke about one man giving another man the hard time he deserved for abusing public trust. He said that The one man Lacerated the other man. I had never heard Lacerate used like this. Ned said, “He gave the fellow a Real Laceration.”
6 December Wednesday
Em hated closed doors. A closed door inside the house was a personal insult. She moved through the house at intervals checking in rooms where she thought something might be happening. The bathroom was on her route. After years of slipping in and out and rubbing her side along the edge of the door frame, she left a grubby smudge at dog body height. She has been dead now for three years but the smudge remained. Even though it looked like dirt on paintwork to anyone else, it was a sign of Em for me. Now the smudge has been cleaned away. Another sign of her absence.