We stopped
for tea in Magherafelt in a pub
that smelt of the night before. You found it
charming that they brought an unasked for
plate of biscuits. I called my
mother to say we were on our way. “Will I make
something for you?…A tart - that’s what I’ll make -
I have all the stuff in for a tart.”A first-time
visitor you drank it all in –the ‘it is,
so it is’ responses,the
metal-meshed barracks and the raggedy
red, white and blue. We stayed
longer than we planned and got lost
coming out of town. Me, behind
the wheel, shoulders hunched, the wipers
on, and rain pelting down from the
darkening sky. When we
finally arrived my mother was all aflutter, reaching up
to kiss me, embarrassed in front of a stranger. My father, in
the front room in his chair, seemed more
composed but as I bent
down towards him, muttered, ‘Youse are
very late - they must have moved Magherafelt
since I was last there.’
great stuff
Posted by: curious | June 04, 2009 at 12:41 AM
Love that man's sense of humour!
Posted by: molly | June 04, 2009 at 01:56 AM
Bloddy brilliant :)
Posted by: Shauna | June 04, 2009 at 11:14 AM
gorgeous!
Posted by: fifi | June 05, 2009 at 09:29 AM
It's the day, is it not?
xxx
Posted by: fifi | June 05, 2009 at 09:31 AM
Thanks all and yes, it was the anniversary of my father's death on Wednesday.
Posted by: ganching | June 06, 2009 at 07:51 AM