Things to like about Donegal

Seanies32 wrote:

Just out of interest, why do you stay here if there's nothing good here?

Oh C,Mon, Do you not recognise a humourus 'wind up' when you see it .

P. :cool:

Rossnowlagh from 1965 to 1973, the tin shack shop down near the beach, the railway wagon caravan, the golf links with what seemed like mountains in the middle of it, Rolly Robinsons shop come cafe where we would have fanta and marieta. There was also an old hotel with a grass tennis court where my aunt stayed. Many cars got stuck in the sand and we would gallantly but hopelessly try to push the car up onto the high part of the beach.

Best of the lot was our uncle Tom who shouted, ranted and raved most of the time. He cooked by boiling, he boiled sausages and then wondered out loud why we wouldnt eat them, he boiled tea and wondered out loud why we wouldnt drink it, we were afraid it might get stuck in our throats. He seemed to run Ballintra although he might well have been run out of Ballintra and just made a special appearance during our month long summer holiday.The moment he would see us after our arrival from Dublin it would be off down to the barber shop as long hair was not allowed under any circumstances. He was to our Dublin ears largely unintelligable but the bits we picked up had us in uproar. When he died a bit of us died with him but we all will always laugh and almost immediately feel a sense of sadness and loss when we think of him and Donegal.

In 1965 I picked a bucket full of crabs in the Teelin harbour or beach and brought them back to the cottage, in the morning they were all gone, presumably back home to the sea. I was two and a half years old and afraid of nothing.

The enormous sea cliff down the road from Teelin was a recurrent nightmare for me on and off for years, one of my brothers would drop the ball and then he would run after it towards the cliff edge, for all I know it actually happened. When we drove up and down the path to the cliff I was in absolute panic, my only consolation being that there would be eleven coffins at the funeral if dads usually perfect driving let us down and he maniacally drove over the edge laughing like an hyenic humanoid