Omagh's 'Shawshank Husband' Dug Tunnel From Bedroom To Pub Over 15 Years.

ITS A CRAZY WORLD!

Fetching the water with Neddy

Where I come from is who I am:
Tangled blackberry bushes
Smoke rising from a solitary chimney
The pine grove in the distance
And Father shouting
“More water in that barrel”
As we bucketed it from our well
To our asses cart,
Creel-less for once.
Other days Neddy would be laden down
With wood from the nearby thicket
Ash trees, young Sally’s,stumps of furze bushes.
Sometimes he hauled sand and gravel
From the quarry at Carroll’s Cross,
Part of Father’s master plan
To build us an outside toilet.
This would mean more water from the well
To feed the tank on its roof,
Unless it rained a lot
Which of course it often did
In our neck of the woods.

Have just re-read Ray Bradbury’s great science fiction book Fahrenheit 451 and it is without doubt the greatest book of its kind. Although now more than 60 years old it hasn’t dated one day and feels as fresh now as it did when first published. In fact I wouldn’t describe it as science fiction any more but science fact. Many of its predictions are now fact.

451
Ah Montag,Montag, where are you now?
Steeped in your kerosine world
You burnt the books
The houses and even the people.
Then fire seared your brain
And cleansed your senses
Books were made to be read not torched.
So you ran to the river
The Mechanical Hound snapping at your heels.

The sun burns every day
It burns time
The firemen burn the books
They burn them every day
Ah Montag, Montag, time burns everything away.

Ence al
Spent the last week in Corolla Bay, on the tip of N Carolina. It is full of lighthouses,Water Towers,Alligators and the roaring Atlantic. No pics yet but will upload some when we get back home. Even went beach fishing yesterday morning and caught something stripey – I believe it was called a Drum. Anyway, I put it back after unhooking it. tHe whole area is called the Outer Banks, a narrow strip of land stretching out into the ATlantic for many,many miles,and less than 50 yards wide in places. A death trap for sailors in olden days apparently,hence all the lighthouses.
Very swampy in places,hence the alligators. Didn’t See any – fortunately!

Never throw stones at your mother
You’ll be sorry when she’s dead
Never throw stones at your mother
Throw bricks at your father instead

Written by Brendan Behan.

On holidays in Corolla Bay N Carolina until early Oct. Postings back to normal then!