There was always something happening in the village. The turf man came with a cartload of turf which we would buy but then we children had the awful job of bringing it into the shed as he would just empty it in the lane. How I loathed that job. …
At that time coal was hard to get and gas was still 'On the Glimmer' so my father rented a piece of bog on the Feather Bed Mountains near the present site of the RTE mast at Kippure. He and others cut turf, saved it, placed it in clamps and in…
