Monthly Archives: August 2014

First Tuesdays, First Wednesdays…It All Begins Again in September.

I always feel discombobulated in August. August is a month for holidays, and if you are not on holiday, you don’t know what to do with yourself, even when there are things to do. This aimlessness is accentuated when one does not have to work. It feels like I am on holiday, particularly when the weather is good. The garden beckons for play, not weeding; walks and swims become lazy past times instead of regular daily exercise. It is all very irritating because I am not on holiday but others are. Somehow this changes everything. Radio programmes are different, the news does not seem to be the real, the sun is shining, and even when it’s raining people are cheerful about the Irish summer. World events, death, rape, wars, incursions, Ebola, all shimmer on the distant horizon. There are super moons, shooting stars, and a stream of never ending festivals to which I don’t go – because I am not on holiday. Everything is put on the long finger until September even though I have nothing in particular to do. I must say, it upset my equilibrium and I have felt rather disgruntled. When I was employed in an office, I used to like working in August. It was like working in slow motion. Now I’m not so keen. Being unemployed in slow motion is not as nice!

 So, I am looking forward to Sember when life begins again. It begins with a bang. There is the third AT The Edge, Cavan literary evening on Tuesday 2 September. I have three mature women poets reading: Heather Brett, Mary Melvin Geoghan and Jean Folan.  That reminds me, I have to submit a funding application to the Arts Council next month to continue this project. I should have prepared it in August but because of my discombobulation, I have been unable to do a thing. I haven’t even written any poetry. I did write a piece of flash fiction about the BBC Test Card…don’t ask.

 On Wednesday 3 September, there is a rehearsed reading of one of my one act plays at the First Wednesdays event which is run every month by Freda Donoghue and Aishling Muller at Farrelly’s in Oldcastle. The play is called The Dead Mother’s Society. It’s about four people who accidentally killed their mothers…again, don’t ask!

 I am very excited about First Wednesday. Like my other play, ‘My Rings for a Cushion’, I wrote Dead Mothers as a short story and then revamped it into a one act drama. I could do this with a good few of my short stories…my characters simply don’t shut up. It’ll be interesting to see and hear the audience reaction to it.

 I think First Wednesdays is a brilliant idea. It is a great opportunity for writers to get their material broadcast. There are usually two or three scripts read/rehearsed and Freda and Aisling are open to submissions. You can be a part of your reading, if you like. Come along to Farrelly’s pub on Wednesday 3 September at 9pm and find out more.

 Apart from the Arts Council application, I  also have to start planning the programme of my eight week poetry workshops which start in Cana House on Wednesday 17 September. And, I’m off to London on the 4th September. Then there is mental health training later in the month hosted by the Cavan Women’s Network, and I have the AGM of Cavan Public Participation Network.

 You know what, as I write this, I’m beginning to wish I appreciated the month of August more!kate 001sept flyer At The Edge, Cavan

 

 

 

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A weekend of war and fudge

This weekend, I visited the WW1 Trench Exhibition in the Cavan County Museum and was so impressed! What a brilliant idea! Even bathed in Cavan sunshine, and pristine in appearance, it gives an idea of the horrors of trench life. The trenches were dug during the war, and had to be shored up with timber and corrugated iron or ‘wriggle tin’ (I love that description). Not only did men have to live in these appalling conditions, they had to build them opposite the enemy lines. There are sand bags, firing steps, dug outs, command posts. Did you know there were 25,000 miles of trenches dug by the end of the war? The information panels are excellent. There are not too many. They are short. They are interesting. The depiction of No Man’s Land is very good. The exhibition is sobering, and thought provoking without being sensational. Hats off to Cavan County Council and Peace III.

trench no mans land trench casualty trench sand

 The trench and commemoration of WW1 is a timely reminder given what is happening in the world today. Social media gives us greater access to information, but, in so doing it renders me more horrified and provokes feelings of powerlessness. Today I read on Facebook that ISIS is cutting off the heads of young children. Two weeks ago I read of bodies falling from the sky when the plane was shot down. Last week I read about slaughter of Palestinians. Before that it was children kidnapped and murdered in Nigeria. Now we also have Ebola. The experience we humans inflict on each other seems endless, probably as relentless as the life those men in the trenches faced. We say never again…but…it is amazing how night follows day.

 So, I am glad that on Friday I had a good day. I visited a Taste of Cavan. It was packed and full of sumptuous local produce and well supported by the businesses and traders of Cavan. There was a real buzz about the place. There were designer cakes, syrups, beef, cheese, oils, chicken, bread, beers, wines,  vegetables, relishes, mustards, ice cream and I got a taste of everything, except of course the array of wonderful knitting, beautiful crochet and make up that is all produced locally. There was lots of jousting, inside and outside the foodhall as WW1 exhibitions and other activities were demonstrated by men in uniform, on horses and other such fayre experiences. It was good to partake of something which made me feel proud to be part of mankind.

 I topped off my war and fudge weekend by going to see Shell-Shock by Philip Doherty in the Town Hall. I liked the end message: we all face our own trenches, war or no war, but felt slightly assaulted by the mix of pathos with high speed action and humour. It was about a Cavan boy (a nerd) who is bullied by a controlling mother, two stereo typical ‘knackers’, the local ‘John Boy’, and the village gossips. He discovers his great grandfather was a WW1 Hero and he manipulates this knowledge to justify revenge laden retribution. It didn’t quite work for me, though as usual Philip was on form with his humorous depiction of  rural life. The play was very well directed and the acting was excellent. It’s great to have Philip and Gonzo in town.

 Well done, Cavan.

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