Nancy O'Brien RIP

Seldom do we come into contact with someone who exudes affection, good humour and patience for a short time but over an entire lifetime it is practially unknown. Nancy was one of those people, never a cross word or a bad tempered jest. My daughter Lucy asked me about her relationship to me and it took me some time to explain and what I said is not even adequate. Nancy was a second mother to me. Someone who was always there, ready to listen and help, she often spoiled me and took my defence when I did wrong. A song was never far from her lips and even now I an hear her singing 'Sean South from Garryowen', or 'The Galway shawl'.

She was the most gentle of ladies and will always be with me, I know that she is up there now looking down and wondering what all the fuss is for as her funeral is planned. No doubt she will enjoy the wake much more than the funeral service and I will be surprised if the above mentioned songs don't get a tearful airing.

The return of Lucy

Lucy is back from Grenoble and her skiing holidays with her cousins, we collected her from the airport yesterday and brought her back to Saint-Malo where she dazzeled us with her beauty and personality. She wrote a poem/song to celebrate her return to the family. The four of us had dinner and I think we all realised how wonderful it was to be back together.

Birmingham oh Birmingham

Just in the door literally from a 5 day trip to the megalopolis of Birmingham where I saw great things, to be precise we, (my daughter Louise, my wife Colette and myself that is) spend some time in my sisters house in Solihull from where we made forays into the hinterland to visit the birthplace of Shakespeare in Stratford upon Avon amongst other place. The weather while bright was too cold for me to ply my watercolours thus I came back with photographic memories only.

The scones with jam and clotted cream were good but not as good as those from Cornwall. My sister insisted on having a family Christmas on the Saturday 17 February and had my nephew Kevin and family as well as my niece and her Richard de Dejay (sounds almost french). Tony my first Cousin and Wife compleated the picture. The evening was a sucess with my sister trying to kill us all with her splendid cooking and baking. It will certainly take me a week to loose the kilos attained while a guest in Solihull.

I'm amazed at the relative discipline of our Anglish neighbours as they Q'ed, the friendliness while walking in the park and the relative absence of 'dog shit' on the streets. The driving on the moterways was civilised, painless, polite and efficient. The return to France revealed Presidential candidates worthy of a comedy sketch, tons of 'Dog shit' on the streets and morose people with the sunshine gone out of their hearts (at least for the moment). I hope things get better soon and that the winter/election desperation depression is shrugged off as quickly as possible. Live and let live.

Music festival Saint-Malo

Each year in July /early August we have the "Music Festival" which brings together orchestras and choirs in various states of readiness, if you get my meaning. The one constant is Herr Brall of Dusseldorf who with a rod of iron cajols and teases the best sound from a wonderful collection of guy's and doll's of various ages from his home city and environs. The musicians come to St-Malo as much out of respect from Herr Dr. Brall as for the money. Many bring their families and indeed several have kith and kin who sing in the choir. They also come because they like the beach and the sea and when you visit the landlocked city you understand why. St-Malo opens its gates from this group each year and is rearly if ever decived by the results of the work put in.

I hope one day the city authorities realise the great good done by this man and his group and make an effort to recognise the fact with a Legion d'honneur, or at least the medal offered to many by the Ministry of Culture.

Herr Brall is a huge man with a huge ability to bring happiness to others. I hope he shall continue to come here for as long as he wants. I for one will be always happy to see him.

DUSSELDORFS (IRISH) GERMAN JAPONESE BRIGADE

Naoka is one of life's wonderful people, she is Japanese, artistic, ( she plays the most awkward instrument )and above all a lover of humanity. Humanity in the form of Gernot, a french horn player in the Dusseldorf opera orchestra.

This Gernot is a strange lad, although German he was brought up in Dublin and he has never lost the Celtic boyish charm that plagues us Irish until old age and can make some of us insuportable.

The two of the above have started taking Irish dancing classes in Dusseldorf and from what I saw the Riverdance company might as well start looking for new jobs.

While out to dinner in a typical dusseldorf kneipe we had schweinehaxen mit kartofflen und saurkraut and a reasonable quantity of very local beer.

Out in 'God's sweet air' afterwards, I noticed a gentleman of the roads huddeling in the cold and wished him good night. His immediate reaction was to ask where I was from in near perfect English and when advises of my Hibernian connections he offered to sing his favorite irish song. The rendition aided by his guitar was spectacular and suggested that we should not judge the homeless/sans abri too quickly.

As he sang his soul shone bright on that dark and cold night.

Paris by Day

This is the painting I had tried to put up for my visit to paris during the weekend, better late than never.

Ships In

I just been down town in Saint-Malo to take the picture of a 100 year old gentleman. I am going to sent it to his nephew who is for the moment in Florida working on a book, and unable to attend the celebrations. The man in question is an ex diplomat, son of a French diplomat of good family who served as French consul in Dublin at the time of the opening of the first Dail(Irish parliament) at the Mansion House (residence of the Lord Mayors of Dublin).

My daughter yesterday gave an exposé at school on the subject of the irish who faught in the British army during the first world war using the family photographs and material available she outlined the subject well. She spoke of Big Jack DUHAN her paternal great grandfather, a sergent major in the Royal Munster Fusaliers who was born in 1877 and served in India and South Africa before WWI.

That the man I was just with was active in Dublin( his University career in Trinity ) at the same time is wonderful. The world in which he finds himself so far removed from the Edwardian time in which he spent his youth. Let no man say "Thus far and no further"

Tomorrow we're off to Dusseldorf for five days. I'll let you know how we got on. Bye for now and sing Happy Birthsday for Mr. Alfred Blanche probably the last man alive who sat in on the birth of a great nation.

Paris by day

A quick run up to paris yesterday, so quick that I did not see much of the capital but the insides of trains albeit the TGV (the newest generation which are splendid and comfortable), the metro and the exhibition halls at the Porte de Versailles.