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First published by HarperCollinsPublishers 2019
FIRST EDITION
© Mike Hanrahan 2019
Illustration © Charlotte O’Reilly Smith 2019
Photographs from the author’s personal collection unless otherwise indicated
Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers 2019
Cover illustrations © Charlotte O’Reilly Smith
A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library
Mike Hanrahan asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
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Source ISBN: 9780008333003
Ebook Edition © October 2019 ISBN: 9780008308759
Version 2019-09-10
To Donna
CONTENTS
COPYRIGHT
DEDICATION
CHAPTER 7 RONNIE, I HARDLY KNEW YA …
CHAPTER 10 BALLYMALOE COOKERY SCHOOL
CHAPTER 14 ARTISAN PARLOUR & GROCER
Farmer John, plough your fields, bring the seed to grain,
Feed the hungry, fill the belly of the traveller as he sails,
A weary heart, a tired soul will try come what may,
Farmer John, plough those fields, help him on his way.
– ‘Firefighter’, What You Know (2002)
THE CROSSING
My parents grew up in the neighbouring farming communities of Barntick and Ballyea in County Clare. As a young couple they chose to start their new life in the burgeoning outskirts of Ennis, which offered opportunities for work and a new rented home in which to raise their young family. In 1957 they moved to the just-built St Michael’s Villas on the edge of Ennis, and there they raised eight children, six boys and two girls: Gerard, Joseph, Kieran, myself, Gabriella, Adrian, John and Jean. I was in the middle; the youngest two were twins. Dad provided and Mother nurtured.
When we were young, our summers were spent secluded on my grandparents’ farm, a few miles from civilisation. We walked to and from the village of Ballylea every Sunday morning, dressed in our finest to attend Mass at the parish church. The farm was our domain, where our friends were the animals and our sustenance came from the very land we roamed.
Come September, we returned to the bustling terraces of Ennis, playing games on the green with the O’Loughlins, the Howards, the Hahessys, the McMahons and the Dinans. By contrast with the farm, it was a noisy playground where you fought to shout your name.
Even as children, our ‘country’ mentality jostled for position on the streets and in our schools, while the country folk saw us only as townies. We were somewhere in the middle, criss-crossing – in language, expression, attitude and mind.
But home life had surety, unity and a purpose, constantly nourished with wonderful music and beautiful food. Music and food have kept me on track at every crossing.
DAN JOE
My grandfather, Daniel Joseph Kelleher, was born in 1898 at