Celtic Roots Craic 77 – Patrick – 'a stone plucked from the mire'

There are lots of stories about St. Patrick – but many of them are not based on facts. For a start he wasn’t an Irishman – he originally lived in Roman Britain, possibly in Wales. He was kidnapped from there and became a slave in Co. Antrim, herding sheep on Slemish mountain, near Ballymena.

One of the false legends about Patrick is that he banished snakes from Ireland – which brings me to my wife’s favourite joke: ‘What did Patrick say when he was driving the snakes out of Ireland? Are yez alright in the back, there?’ Yeah! 

Actually Roman historians had reported many years before that there were no snakes in Ireland. So, the legend probably sprang up because of Patrick’s confrontation with the Druids – the ’snakes’ probably referring to the demonic druid spirits.

When he was captured Patrick probably wasn’t a professing Christian.. When he was forced to work for six years as a slave he remembered what he had been taught back home and became a devout believer. He later claimed that, ‘in one day I would pray up to one hundred times, and at night perhaps the same’. 

Eventually Patrick – actually Padraig, in Irish – escaped from Ireland after hearing a voice telling him that his ship was ready. Later, after a few years of study and training as a priest, then bishop, he had a vision of a man carrying letters, who gave him one headed, ‘The voice of the Irish’. He imagined the people of Ireland calling out to him, ‘We appeal to you, holy servant boy, to come and walk among us’. So he returned to Ireland as a Christian missionary.

In his Confession he described himself as being, ‘like a stone lying deep in the mud. Then He who is powerful came and lifted me up and placed me on the very top of the wall.’  And later he said, ‘Whatever comes about for me, good or bad, I ought to accept them equally and give thanks to God’. 

Maybe we could learn from Patrick. Patrick learned that giving thanks – even when forced into slavery – changed things, in particular it changed him – so that the difficult times didn’t bring him down, instead he said he was ‘lifted up’. 

You may not have the same confidence and trust as Patrick and his fellow saints, but I recommend their way of looking at things – it certainly works for me!

Celtic Roots Craic 76 – George, myself and the Lowden Guitars story

A couple of weeks ago I got a phone call from an old friend – a now retired chef – who used to host a regular radio show two afternoons per week on our local Down FM 105 station. Unfortunately, the local college, who hosted the station ran out of funding and the station closed down several months ago.

But Big G was calling to let me know the people involved had done some fundraising and were re-launching the station from the former BBC sound studio in the St. Patrick’s Centre, inviting me along to the launch. I was intrigued because the station had previously showed some interest in broadcasting this show on their station. 

Unfortunately, nothing had come of this – probably my own fault for not pushing it a bit! But my friend had again mentioned my show and the new organisers seemed keen to include it – if you’re listening to this on Down FM 105 then you’ll know that this time I was successful!

As part of their fundraising they’d had a draw for a brand new Sheeran by Lowden acoustic guitar, with the winner being selected live on Facebook at the launch. I actually got to play that Sheeran guitar! In case yo  u are not familiar with this instrument, it is produced by our major local employer, the George Lowden guitar factory – which is now based just a couple of miles from my house.

I’ve known George Lowden since the seventies, when we were free and single, sharing a house in Bangor,  and George worked as a manufacturer’s agent for a clothing company. When a new clothing range was introduced we got our pick from the now obsolete range – so in those days I always had some trendy gear to wear!

Well, George decided one day the would give up the clothing business, become a luthier and make high quality acoustic guitars. We had a large room at the rear of our rented house and I helped George to make his first workbench. Later, when he and Flo were married I completed the building work on his house in Groomsport, Co. Down. Needless to say, the rest is history! Lowden Guitars have gone from strength to strength and have become a household name in the music business.

Although a Sheeran guitar is machine built and relatively inexpensive, the actual George Lowden guitars are hand built from start to finish and cost considerably more. Thankfully, I was able to do a deal with George way back then in payment for some of that building work. The guitars were then being made under licence by a company in Japan, but later production moved to Bangor, Co. Down, and then to a growing collection of small business units outside Downpatrick.

Outgrowing this, and with the Ed Sheeran connection requiring a great increase in production and personnel, the factory moved to new premises near Crossgar, a few miles from Downpatrick. I happened to call in on the day that George and his team were testing out the expensive new CNC equipment on a new Sheeran guitar – the result was quite impressive.

George’s latest claim to fame is the recent portrait of him painted by celebrated local artist, Colin Davidson, known for his paintings of such celebrities as Liam Neeson, the aforementioned Ed Sheeran, local singer Duke Special, and international figures such as the late Queen Elizabeth II and former US president, Bill Clinton. It seems that after 50 years of guitar making George has now joined the ranks of the rich and famous – though he still speaks to me!

And we’ve been listening to an authentic Galician whistle tune from Efraim Diaz – in Spain, of course – ‘Muiñeira de Piadela e Sarasate’ , from the album, ‘Pito Galego’.  A Muiñeira, by the way, is the Galician equivalent of an Irish jig and Pito Galego is the Galician flute.

Celtic Roots Craic 74 – 'Scraik a' dawn' and 'clabber to the knee'

Howl On’ is another one of those local expressions we use regularly – meaning wait – ‘Ach, howl on a wee minute, that’s not the way of it at all!’ – nothin’ to do with shouting. The word for that would be gulder – ‘She let such a gulder out of ‘er ye’d a thought she was bein’ murdthered.’ Or perhaps, ‘gowl’ – ‘That chile does nothing but gowl – she’s always wingin’ and gurnin’.’ 

Another way of puttin’ it would be, ‘Yer a bit crabbit the day, aren’t ye?’ – meaning tetchy, grumpy, awkward, or argumentative. Ye might also be described as a bit ‘carnaptious’ – contrary. If yer a woman ye certainly wouldn’t want to be labelled a ‘targe’ – an angry, overbearing, difficult woman – ‘She’s a real targe, that one!’ If yer over fond of yer food ye might be described as ‘a right greedy gorb.’ Neither would you want to be known as ‘sleekit’ – sly, underhand, deceitful. The poet, Rabbie Burns, once described a mouse as a ‘wee sleekit, cowrin’, tim’rous beastie.’  

We’ve got a right few words to describe dirt – such as ‘glar’, ‘stoor’, ‘gunk’ and ‘clabber’. ‘A’m up to me uxters in glar’ – meaning I’m up to my armpits in muck. Glar has a sticky porridge-like consistency. ‘Stoor’ is similar – ‘Yer making’ yer dinner into a right stoor, so ye are!’ ‘Clabber’ is any sort of dirt or mud – ‘Ye can’t make out yer number plate for all the clabber on it.’  

W.F. Marshall – known as ‘the bard of Tyrone’ is well known for his poem, ‘Livin’ in Drumlister’, which begins: ‘A’m livin’ in Drumlister, hey, and A’m clabber to the knee.’  You can also use ‘clabber’ as a verb: ‘He was a wee bit cheeky to me, so I clabbered him one.’ ‘Gunk’ is another word meaning grime, dirt, or grease – ‘I can’t see for all the gunk in me eye.’  ‘Gunk’ can also mean taken aback, or disappointed – ‘He took a quare gunk when he saw what’d happened to his new car!’  Or, ‘When he heard what it was gonna cost, he was rightly gunked! 

We were out for a walk the o’rr day and I noticed a sheep that wasn’t too steady on its feet –  we’d say it was just ‘herplin’ along.’ That reminded me of another great phrase – often used by my mother – ‘Ach, yer a pochle, so ye are!’ meaning yer makin’ a pig’s lug out of somethin’, or yer ‘just pochlin’ about’ – ‘footerin’ about’, instead of gettin’ on wi’ it.

She would sometimes talk about ‘puttin’ up a bit of a hoardin’’ – which was like a temporary fence, blocking a hole in a hedge, or it could also be a big sign by the side of the road with advertising on it. She’d talk about havin’ to ‘get up at the scraik a’ dawn every mornin’’ – scraik meaning screech, in this case – referring to the ‘dawn chorus’. I see that phrase, ‘scraik a’ dawn’, is also used by local author, Maurice Leitch, in his book, ‘The Eggman’s Apprentice’.

My mother would talk about a ‘wind that would clean corn’ – meaning a cold wind that went right through ye. Or she would send me to ‘haig a wheen a’ sticks’ to light the fire – haig meaning to hack, or chop. A similar word would be ‘blatther’ – ‘give the door a good blather, there.’ We’re quite good at inserting a ‘th’ sound into words – like butther, for instance. Or ‘clatther’ – meaning a collection of something – ‘My mother kept a clatther a’ hens.’  

The same word can also mean to hit something – ‘He gave the knocker a right clatther, so he did’. Another great word for the same thing is ‘blarge’ – ‘Don’t knock, just blarge on in, like!’  Or, ‘He gave a right blarge on the horn.’ It can also mean over indulgence – ‘He had right oul’ blarge a drink on him last night.’

Another one is ‘banther’ – meaning talk, as in, ‘We had a wee bit of a banther’. Of course, you wouldn’t want to be known as a ‘blether’ – someone who talks too much, or who talks nonsense, as in: ‘What are ye blethering’ on about?’  You could also say, ‘He’s a bit of a gab,’ or, ‘She has the gift of the gab, that one!’ ‘Craythur’ is another great word, meaning creature – ‘Ach, the poor craythur does’nae hae the sense he was born wi’.’

Celtic Roots Craic 73 – 'Plates a' meat', Ruby Murray and 'a churn a-dryin''

We haven’t talked recently about the language we talk here in Norn Iron. I’ve mentioned that as well as Scottish and Irish Gaelic influences, we also still use phrases from Elizabethan English – but did you know that we also have our own Belfast version of cockney rhyming slang? Probably the best known phrase is, ‘You’re tatie bread!’ – basically meaning your life expectancy is about to be greatly reduced!

If you’re a wee bit hard of hearing you might be described as ‘corn beef’ – i.e. deef! If you live in the ‘heel and ankle’ area – that’s the Shankill Road – then you might want to ‘Orange Sash’ your ‘deuce and ace’ – but only to make sure yer face is ‘James Dean’ – clean. While yer at it you might want to ‘church dome’ your ‘Ballyclare’ afore ye lave the ‘Mickey Mouse’ – in other words, comb your hair before you leave the house!

You might want to put on yer ‘Bangor Boat’ and then use yer ‘jam jar’ to save your ‘plates a’ meat’ – coat, car, feet? Or somebody might say, ‘Shift yer big plates a’ meat there, so I can get by ye’. I knew a pastor once, who hailed from England and thought he had successfully picked up the local slang, only he ended up encouraging his congregation to clap their ‘plates a meat’ –  if ye’ve ever tried it ye’ll have discovered, like me, that it’s a bit difficult to do! 

Most of us open our ‘mince pies’ after a ‘Robin Hood’ ‘Bo Peep’ in our own ‘Jimmy Ned’ every night – a good sleep in yer own bed? If yer a man ye might take out yer ‘Ian Frazer’ and have ‘dig in the grave’ – shave. And instead of eatin’ in you could go out for a ‘Ruby Murray’ for yer tea – that’s a curry. Ruby Murray, by the way, was a well known singer and actress, very successful in the UK charts back in the fifties – and originally from the Donegal Road, in Belfast.

A dig in the ‘north and south’ would be pretty unpleasant. And an ‘Irish Mick’ in the ‘Lower Falls’ could actually turn out to be an even more painful experience! I’ll leave you to work that one out for yerselves –

Well, we don’t always talk in rhymes here – in fact, it’s mainly in certain parts of Belfast that you’ll hear that ! We do have a habit of ending sentences with certain words – in Belfast it’s ‘now’, usually pronounced, ‘nye’. In County Antrim and Derry we’ll put ‘hey’ onto the end – ‘I was all affronted, hey!’ – and causing some bemused visitors to look in vain on their map for a place called, ‘Derryhay!’ – ‘Where are you from?’ ‘I’m from Derry, hey!’ In County Down – where I live – you’d be more likely to hear the word ‘boy’, though it’ll be pronounced, ‘bye’ – as in, ‘How’s it goin’ there, bye?’ 

Talkin’ of movin’ yer ‘plates a’ meat’, my mother would often say, ‘Yer sprawled out there like a churn a-dryin’’ – imagine a milk churn tilted up to drain. She had some other great descriptions, too – ‘For dear sake would ye tidy yourself up a bit – yer like an owl lookin’ out of a holly bush!’  Or sometimes, ‘You look like Josef Locke!’ 

‘Now, who was Josef Locke?’ I hear you ask. Well he was another singer from Northern Ireland – a tenor, actually – who was successful in the forties and fifties – appearing in Blackpool and on the radio, TV and in several films. He was born Joseph McLaughlin in Derry, but his real name was too long for the bill, so his agent shortened it to Josef Locke. There is now a memorial to him on Queen’s Quay, in Derry. 

Locke was known as ‘The Singing Bobby’, because he’d previously served in the Palestine Police Force and then in the Royal Ulster Constabulary. He was famous for many Irish ballads – but especially, ‘I’ll take you home again, Kathleen.’