What happened to driving into petrol station, filling up at pump and simply paying the cashier!! Is it progress? Well, I must have missed the initial instructions then. New petrol station in Junction 1, I drove in and was confronted by signs stating: CASH ONLY, CASH AND CARDS, CARDS ONLY!! Took me a while to figure out which one I should go to. I mean, I only wanted a tenner’s worth but what if I went to the cash only and it was ten pounds and two pence! I couldn’t put the card in! So should I go to cash and cards! Crap!! What now! Chanced it and went to cash only, I had two five pound notes. I would be careful, cunning like a fox, watch carefully as it came near the tenner mark and halt!!

So over I goes to be met with another sign! PLEASE CHOOSE RELEVANT PAYMENT METHOD! What! I was paying cash in a CASH ONLY station! Couldn’t find RELEVANT PAYMENT OPTIONS but saw a place to slide notes in. Whopee!! In goes my fivers, out comes my fivers! Twist them about a bit!! In goes my fivers again, out comes my fivers again! S—! By this time I was feeling rather embarrassed, sure that the whole shop was watching through the window! To my additional horror a car pulled up behind me. I was scundered and prayed silently that there were no men in the vehicle. Because you know yourself, Ladies, immature men ridicule women every chance they get! Thankfully it was two women who actually came over to help me. They were having the same problem. We tried the fivers again, no luck, and then we started talking. Would you believe it, a mother and daughter and the mother was a dedicated Elvis fan, like myself and had been to Graceland five times. Well, we stood there chatting about The King and they were interested in where I had been on holiday so we chatted about Romania as well. Having a great time we were, three strangers, now friends! It was then we heard the gulder from the tannoy!: “Would the people at Station 1 please vacate the premises as others would like to fill up.” They’d be lucky!! Then he added: “I know you are all enjoying the sun!” We looked at each other, answered “We’re enjoying the craic!”, and left to get petrol in Tesco’s!!

The highlight of my return home was seeing my beautiful grandchildren again and having them introduce me to my new future sleeping partner! COOPER! The Cat! or kitten really! Cooper as in Tommy(appearing and disappearing!) I will be looking after this furry object for a week as the kids and parents go off on holiday!! Now to say I don’t like cats is an understatement! I DON’T LIKE CATS! But I will be good to this one because it is a member of the McKenna family, not to mention the fact I would be disowned if anything happens to it! So Cooper, you’re stuck with me for a week!!!

I was delighted to be invited onto a radio Ulster programme. TIME OF OUR LIVES, hosted by Colum Arbuckle, broadcast on Sunday afternoons from 2 -3 p.m. Myself and Booby Hanvey (the Ramblin’ Man) were in the studio talking about our interests and unusual pastimes and achievements. Enjoyed every moment of the recording! Great fun! Colum was a gracious host and Bobby a very interesting character!!

Until next time folks, I will leave you with the story I read out on the show titled ROADS: THE CINDER PATH

ROADS:THE CINDER PATH
She beckoned, rough and grey, like an old Belfast matriarch with goodness in her heart. Sparkling stones winking in the early morning sunlight, dark ash swirling, magically transformed into microscopic clouds of colours. Uneven, unpaved, unfinished but a safe haven for young feet in school shoes. The Cinder Path, memories of childhood, positioned at the topmost end of Andersonstown Park West. A tiny portion as yet uncompleted, but a portion that was destined to become a milestone in the lives of the children in this West Belfast estate.
It led to what is now known as Kennedy Way but a lifetime ago was a warren of muddy paths, grass and weeds. Over the Cinder Path to school at five years old, over the Cinder Path, twice dressed in flowing gowns of pristine whiteness, Holy Communion and Confirmation, depicting childhood purity and innocence. Excited, glowing faces, chattering and giggling, preening and pirouetting, no interest whatsoever in their destination, only in their appearance and fashion. The boys were not so appreciative of their new restrictive garments, sulking and kicking at the cinder path, scuffed shoes and sullen looks. The only time I did not traverse the cinder path beautifully dressed in white was my wedding. Perhaps an omen for future disaster. Indeed!
The path was the children’s recreation area, unfortunately too close to one grumpy neighbour who complained of the noise and banished the revellers from her doorstep. But revenge is sweet and every Halloween saw justice done. Crunch! Crunch! Tiny feet approached the witch’s house, fireworks placed on her porch, then sounds of scattering scamps.
But time defeats us and plodding progress prepares us for the sanitised world we now live in. As I stand sadly gazing at the bland concrete slabs covering my cinder path thoughts of my father surface and I remember him. Bearing an uncanny resemblance to Christopher Lee, he was continually referred to as The Count by his motley, friendly crew of fellow bus employees. But proudly striding beside him down the cinder path caused me no fear, just a sense of security and safety. My idol, my hero, my father.
Before I leave my memories behind and the cinder path vanishes into the forgetfulness of old age, let me share with you a poignant, funny moment. Lagging behind our chaperoning mothers on one particular morning, my friend Esther and I were in no hurry to reach the school gates. Our minders gossiped and gabbled in front of us. Suddenly Mrs McGivern commenced to swivelling her hips like Elvis, rotating her rump in imitation of a comical belly dancer, every part of her jiggling with some sort of discomfort. To our utter amazement a large white garment slowly peeked from beneath the lady’s frock, sliding swiftly to the ground, a hastily unfurled flag of surrender. Her underwear had come adrift, causing no undue concern or embarrassment to herself. She simply stepped out of them, stuck them in her bag and the pair continued on their merry way, giggling like schoolgirls.
Those were the days of freedom and fun, dirty faces, hands and grubby clothes. No instant wipes to sterilise a child, just the Crunch! Crunch! of The Cinder Path at the topmost end of Andersonstown Park

 

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