Things to celebrate

Things to celebrate

 

IT’S so easy to moan and curse everything and I’ve come to the conclusion that one’s alter ego, or subconscious, known to me as George, prefers misery to happiness. It seems like that because it’s very hard to divert him from dwelling on any kind of disaster or even from some minor ache that might manifest in one’s innards. Always, according to George, this is the precursor of a fatal affliction.
It’s madness, really, as there are so many things we could, and should, be celebrating. Personally speaking, to start with, I do have a house to live in, Tiger (my car) for transport, and a great many friends – all of which are tremendous blessings compared to the situations of innumerable others.
And collectively, as a nation, we have so much to celebrate. Take soda bread, for instance, which has so much competition bread-wise these days from France and elsewhere – whereas a soda cake, as it is called in the country, straight out of a pot oven and spread with home-made butter, is unrivalled anywhere.
Then there are rhododendrons, the flowers which illuminate whole tracts of the countryside in June. And there is fuchsia, too, and gorse, all helping to decorate the bogs and make a garden of the landscape – sights for sore eyes. We should, indeed, celebrate the bogs, as well, seeing as how they prevent over-increasing urbanisation and inspired the artist, Paul Henry, among others, to put their sultry mien on record.
Having constant access to hot water should be another cause for on-going celebration for those who have such. The sense of luxury which it conveys is put into perspective by the more and more frequent power cuts we are recently being subjected to, so we should include warmth and the other electrical amenities which we take for granted. The way things are going we’ll soon be huddling beneath blankets in the dark, unwashed and unfed, worse off than Eskimos, or Mongolian nomads.
However, we do not have encroaching deserts to contend with and that in itself is a reason to rejoice, as being engulfed in sand seems highly unattractive. We hear how this is happening to Beijing, which is being swallowed up by sand, like many another ancient metropolis. We should be happy with the rain that keeps it away.
Sandwiches merit celebration, too, in my opinion. They are pretty ubiquitous here, abroad they are as rare as gold dust – at least, in the form familiar to us. Other nations must despise the Irish version – not to mention bread as we know it – and usually offer concoctions between slices of something so large that only a shark could conveniently bite it. In America a sandwich is not something encased between slices at all, but a large main course meal. So, hurrah for the humble, corny old native variety!
Please let’s raise a cheer for grass. Here it may often seem like a curse, throttling our flowers and smothering our drives, but in many places abroad it is either absent, or feeble, creating a see-through covering for the ground beneath. Maybe the reason why cream and butter are equally scarce, or inferior, elsewhere.
People, of course, are part of the landscape, too, and I often find that a small thing like a smile can activate a feeling of delight. One from a stranger can be particularly potent. One really great thing about Irish society is the lack of pomp, like the way employees address the boss by his Christian name. Visiting English employers are always disconcerted by this informality, which makes it particularly enjoyable.
Let’s not forget health, though, as something really worth celebrating – if you feel good, nothing seems impossible, and even if you don’t feel 100% there are sure to be so many people much worse off, that in itself is encouraging.
But, above all, we should celebrate the fact that we don’t live next door to Israel!