I’m 46. I live in a little village called Monamolin in County Wexford, Ireland. We have a crossroads, we have a pub and a shop all combined with two churches, two graveyards, and that’s it. I’m a civil funeral arranger. Ireland was so religious. Even if you didn’t believe in anything you’d have a church funeral. The last five years that’s gone out the window. People aren’t being told by the church what to do any more. This is where I’ve stepped in. I do wish people would turn their phones off, though. You’ll be eulogising somebody and it goes off.
I went to live in England aged 19. I lived in Manchester and I used to go to town on a Saturday, buy the Guardian, go to a coffee shop and read the whole thing. I was nine years in England and I don’t think I missed a Saturday. I was there for the Labour victory in 1997, and followed it all through the paper, and then for the years that followed – a huge disappointment.
After that I went to live in Istanbul, where I taught English. There was a newsagent around the corner from the school and sometimes they would have an International Guardian. Again, I used to go to a coffee shop, and the chef in the restaurant, when he saw me, he’d run over to check the football results.
After that I went back to Ireland. It’s only in recent times that my local shops have started stocking the Guardian but you have to go early. I love the recipes. I’m annoyed when there are huge lists of ingredients that can’t be found outside a major conurbation, though. Thankfully, there’s always a recipe that doesn’t have a lot of ingredients so I can do it. I don’t get to go to the theatre here, and I don’t have a big bookshop on my doorstep, so the reviews give me a flavour of what’s going on.
For the last couple of years I’ve been involved with volunteer organisations around suicide prevention. I’ve just stepped back from that because I was finding it very hard what with all the funerals. I’ve decided that this month I’m taking up fun things to do. There’s a pub near my mum and on a Thursday night they do line dancing. It’s a really good, proper Irish pub. If you’re downstairs having your drink it sounds like the ceiling’s going to come down on you. And I’ve signed up for archery. I’m hoping to hit the target. Maybe not the bullseye but hitting the target would be very satisfying.
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