Category Archives: Personal Columns

On his thirty-second birthday

For the fainthearted . . .

He is thirty-two today.

It seems odd. It is not so long ago that I was thirty-two and he was two.

He has stood by me through some difficult times. Being prepared to forgive when others were less gracious.

Sometimes, I wonder if I have deserved the love he has shown.

Certain memories loom large.

When he was three years old, he attended a play group for three mornings each week from 9.30 until 12.30. One Wednesday came and I was preparing to drive to Downpatrick just after midday when …

Taking snaps

For the fainthearted . . .

It was said to have been a motor accident that caused his brain injury.  He was always a quiet and a gentle man, and he had assumed a childlike innocence. If he wasn’t to be found in the house, his wife knew where he would be found; sitting on a bench at the shoreline in the tiny seaside village. Not for him the vast seascapes or the glories of a sunrise over the Irish Sea, but rather a fascination with the waves.  He was intrigued with the shape and the …

Clipper time

For the fainthearted . . .

With occasional remedial work by my sister during visits to Somerset being necessary, haircuts have become mainly a DIY affair. Clippers bought in Boot’s with a Number 2 blade attached save a lot on barber’s bills.

Looking in the mirror this morning, I thought the time had come for another trim, and the music of Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes came to mind.

Don’t Leave Me This Way by Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes was on the barber’s radio when he was paying his once a term visit …

Vicarious dejection

For the fainthearted . . .

Teaching bottom set students, there is a sense of the disappointment felt by those who feel themselves condemned to forever be also-rans.

Perhaps the persistent sense of feeling disappointed for those suffering disappointment has a clinical name.  If it hasn’t, it should have. Disappointment has the capacity to darkly overshadow even happy moments and can sometimes induce tears.

The sense of disappointment first began to manifest itself at football matches.

Twenty years ago, a League of Ireland team I followed defeated another team by six goals to nil. Far from …

Going solo

For the fainthearted . . .

‘Are you seeing anyone, Ian?’

‘No,’ I said, ‘nor do I ever intend to do so.’

Having been responsible for the failure of a marriage and then a relationship, to remain alone seems a wise decision. Solitariness isn’t so bad,

In the past four days, I think I have seen the majority of my friends. Never very plentiful, the number of those with whom I would have long conversations has steadily contracted.

To be honest, I have spent most of my life leading an individual existence, but is that such …

The smells of education

For the fainthearted . . .

The school in which I teach is PPP, Public-Private Partnership. A company built it and manages it and the Department for Education will be renting it from them for twenty-five years.  It is immaculate. Completed a decade ago, it still seems shinily new.

My memories of school days are of buildings very different. High Ham School had two classrooms divided by a corridor leading to the cloakroom; infants to the right, juniors to the left.  Was there knowledge worth learning that was unknown to our teachers?

The school building is …