Headford News and Community Spotlight - Feeling Better

Good news! The date has been set for Headfest 2014. Our community festival will take place this year from Friday August 22nd to Sunday August 24th. The event is in the early planning stages so anyone who'd like to be involved in any way is encouraged to attend the next meeting at Cloughanover on Wednesday, 30th April at 9 pm. If you'd like to send an email, the address is headfest@gmail.com. Show the Love(fest), Headford! 


COMMUNITY SPOTLIGHT  

Feeling Better 
Anyone who’s walked into Flanagan’s Pharmacy has probably noticed the dark-haired, soft-spoken man behind the high counter. If you’ve been in there, you may be sure he’s noticed you. For over ten years, Jarlath Phillips has been one of Headford’s community pharmacists. Back in 2003, he bought the pharmacy, and then the building. The Health Shop next door used to be the Mayo Bar, but now sells everything from tinned beans to scented soap.

When I ask Jarlath why he became a pharmacist, he says he always liked science, but he also likes meeting people. ‘I enjoy the interaction,’ he says. ‘I’m definitely not a lab or hospital type person. This [pharmacy] was a more appealing route.’

Back when Jarlath decided to become a pharmacist, he had to go out of the country to study. ‘Because,’ he says, ‘back then it was Trinity or die.’ And there weren’t very many available openings at Trinity, so after studying science at NUIG, he went to Liverpool to get his pharmacy degree. Now, there are three colleges in this country where those who want to can get pharmacy degrees. 

His early career was spent in the U.K. too. ‘I liked the unique situations,’ he says. In seven years there, he saw some drug abuse issues, but also did some compounding against prescriptions, as well as monitoring medications, counselling customers on drug use, and the usual duties of a pharmacist.

Jarlath Phillips of Flanagan's Pharmacy

The toughest thing about his job here is that pharmacy is ‘a very regulated sector,’ especially since 2007. Most of us remember the heated debates that hit the news seven years ago when everything changed in the Irish pharmaceutical world. According to the Pharmaceutical periodical, Counter Intelligence, ‘The Pharmacy Act of 2007 signalled a new era for Irish pharmacy. Up to this point, pharmacy in Ireland was governed by a variety of acts and regulations dating from 1875. The 2007 Act became the one document governing the profession.’ And with it came a lot of time-consuming criteria that has to be met. ‘It involves a lot of box-ticking,’ Jarlath says, ‘and working evenings and weekends, coming in early, staying late.’ It also involves keeping books scrupulously up-to-date with revenue.

Jarlath says, in his line of work, ‘sometimes you just have to be a listening ear for somebody, maybe after a bereavement or a personal tragedy.’ Yet, at the same time, he confides that trying to spend time with everyone is one of the most challenging aspects of his job. He also sees himself as the middle man, so to speak, between the patient and their G.P. ‘When you know the patient,’ he says, ‘the G.P. is the point of contact. In that case, I might be the bridge between the two.'

As a pharmacist, Jarlath seems keenly observant, intuitive almost. He admits he notices physical things, behaviour, and of course he’s aware of prescriptions and watchful for reactions. ‘Sometimes, you just know what’s going on,’ he says. If he knows someone’s personal situation, and is aware they are in trouble, he might discuss different non-drug related treatment options with their G.P. The personal attention he gives is far from the anonymous dispensing of drugs that would happen in a large city. ‘That’s the luxury of being a small town pharmacist,’ he says.

Although, coming to work on a Sunday doesn’t seem like much of a ‘luxury.’ Flanagan’s alternates with Ryder’s Pharmacy so that one or the other of them is open each Sunday from 11 a.m. to 1 p.m. It’s important, Jarlath says because, ‘Often, on the weekends, you might be the only point of contact for somebody.’

Pharmacy has become a family affair for Jarlath, who met his wife, Clodagh, in college. Clodagh works at their other shop, Flanagan’s on Shop Street in Galway. They now have one son and two daughters and swap working every other Saturday so they can each spend time with the kids.

When I ask Jarlath if there’s anything he’d like people to know, he says, ‘If someone wants to talk to me and I’m busy, they should always try to ring back later.'

‘So, do you ever get time off?’ I ask.

He flashes a shy smile and nods. When he responds it’s in that same, subdued voice he uses with customers. ‘When you help people out, it’s rewarding. You feel better going home.'

Headford News and Community Spotlight - Mail Model

Last Friday was Spring Equinox, and our friends at The Woodland League, headquartered in Scarriff, County Clare, would like to remind us that, 'This is an excellent time to give thanks, respect and praise for the Forests - for all the seen and unseen benefits they bestow on ALL living beings. They never ask nor take anything in return, standing silently, giving their all unconditionally. The prophet Mohammad said, "The person who plants one tree and takes care to nurture it, at the end of their days, will go straight to heaven." On that note, perhaps each of us could also consider pledging to plant one tree and take care of it in 2014, and spread the message far and wide.'
http://www.woodlandleague.org/


Happy Spring Equinox, Headford!


COMMUNITY SPOTLIGHT 

The Job of a Rural Postman

Mail Model

When Olly O’Connor first started delivering the post in the Headford area back in 1996, he probably didn’t imagine he’d still be delivering the post eighteen years later. Back then, the post office, now a derelict old building, was inside John Molloy’s house in Ower, and Olly had just one week to learn all 200 houses and names on his route.

His first day on the job, at the age of twenty, Olly says, ‘John Malloy showed me around, then I was pretty much on my own.’ Because there were no house numbers or specific addresses, Olly kept a small book with notes like, ‘so and so lives in the house with the green door.’ In one village, he says, there were seven families with the surname ‘Lee.’ So, if he had an envelope addressed to ‘Mr. Lee,’ it might take a bit of detective work to figure out where it should go.

Then, of course, there’s the dog issue. Postmen are forever getting bitten by dogs, and Olly is no exception. ‘But I’ve had my tetanus shot now,’ he says. He reckons dogs attack postmen because they come and go so quickly, ‘like robbers,’ which is ironic, since he’s leaving things instead of taking them away.

Today, Olly says, ‘It takes two weeks to train new [postal delivery] people.’ And Olly is a great role model, having trained several others on his own route. His day begins early, sorting letters and packages by area. Then he loads them all in his van and takes off. He has to stop and collect post from pick-up boxes at a precise time. Scanning the bar code on the green letter box at 9:59 a.m. instead of 10:00 will bring a call and a complaint from his supervisor.

Most days, Olly’s job is a race against the clock. He’s got to bring the post back to Headford in time for the 3:45 p.m. pick up. If he doesn’t get deliveries to all the houses on his route done first, then he has to drive back out into the countryside and deliver the rest of the post.

Just after the turn of the century, in about 2000, greed engendered by the Celtic Tiger became widely apparent in the area. New houses popped up like mushrooms, creating the flood plains we now have in the countryside surrounding Headford. By 2004, the rural post office in Ower was moved to Headford, and Olly’s job became even more complex. Today, there are 417 houses and three schools on his route.

Olly says the best part of his job is getting to listen to whatever radio channel he wants while he’s working, and changing the channel as much as he wants. ‘If I was in a factory or something, I’d have to listen to whatever someone else wanted.’ As you might imagine, he gets a lot of alone time in that green van, so if you see him rockin’ out when he drives by, he’s probably listening to some good tunes. But if he sees you on the road, he always waves and will even stop and hand you your post through the car window.

The worst part of his job is a wet day.

‘Why?’ I ask.

‘Because no one wants a wet letter.’

Which brings up the inevitable topic of weather, and I have to ask him if that old postman’s creed it true. Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds, was originally a quote from an ancient Greek named Herodotus (circa 500 BCE) who was describing the Persian system of mounted postal carriers. Olly tells me that’s still the case, the post must be delivered regardless of weather. In 2010, when there was ice everywhere and we were all warned to stay home, Olly was out delivering our post. Christmas time, however, is the real challenge. Every year. ‘There’s loads to be done,’ Olly says, ‘and you’re under pressure to get it all done before dark (because of the short days).’

Olly loves to travel, but not necessarily up the one kilometre driveway of one of the houses where he has to deliver the post. ‘I dread when that guy gets a letter,’ he quips. He’s been to the beach in Key West, Florida; tangoed in Cuba; been tossed around on a small fishing boat in the Atlantic off the coast of Valencia, Spain,; over a month in Argentina; been to London, Yorkshire, Leeds and done the Jack-the-Ripper tour; visited what was left of the Berlin wall; Lourdes, France; Munich; floated down a canal in Holland; visited Edinburgh Castle; Belgium; Portugal; the Dominican Republic; didn’t gamble in Las Vegas (but did enjoy the beer); and would not recommend Rio de Janeiro (‘capitals aren’t great places to go’).

When I ask Olly what he’d like people to know about his job, he has to think about it. Finally, he says, ‘A lot of people like to talk about the weather and then we got to make up the time.’ So if he seems like he’s in a hurry to get away from you, don’t take it personally. He’s just doing his job. And it’s also good to keep in mind that, unlike a courier service, an An Post employee, like Olly, has to hand you your package, or leave it for you at the Post Office. That package won’t be left with an unknown neighbour or dropped-kicked to your door. All the more reason to appreciate our local postman.

Headford Celebrates St. Patrick's Day In Style!

If you were at the parade, watch the slide show and feel like you're there all over again. If you weren't at the parade, watch the slide show and feel like you were there.

Headford News and Community Spotlight - Rematch for the Thatch

Don't miss Headford's St. Patrick's Day Parade. Next Monday at 12:45 pm, starting from the GAA pitch. Should be a lot of fun!

Ladies: If you're interested in learning the right way to give yourself facials, manicures and pedicures, Solas will be sponsoring a how-to course for the next few Wednesdays. It's absolutely free. Click on the 'Contact' tab above and ring us to find out more.


COMMUNITY SPOTLIGHT

No Place Like Home

Rematch for the Thatch 
According to the U.S. Library of Congress, The Wizard of Oz (from 1939) is the most watched film ever. Part of the reason for this might be the universal significance of the central message of the movie. Dorothy’s immortal line sums it up: ‘If you ever go looking for your heart's desire, you don't have to look any further than your own back yard.’ In other words: your roots are important. Although this lesson is played up in the final scene of the film, the bulk of the story is instead about the dream of escaping, the desire to leave the here and now to find a better place.

That’s exactly what Therese Greaney did back in 1989. She and her husband and three small children left Headford for a better life in Oz (or Aus). Last July, nearly a quarter of a century later, Therese returned home and spent her life savings to buy the Thatch Pub and give it a face lift.

At 11:00 am on a weekday, the Thatch is bathed in warm sunlight. Inside, a couple is enjoying a leisurely breakfast in one of the booths and natural light bounces off the creamy white walls. As I sit at the bar waiting for Therese to finish what she’s cooking in the kitchen, Tie A Yellow Ribbon, wafts from the sound system. That’s followed by Rhianna telling us to Shut Up And Drive, in turn followed by the Irish Rovers waxing patriotic with The Orange and The Green. At the same time, a soundless cookery show plays on a large screen TV. Right away, you get the feeling this place is aiming to please all types.

When Therese (she prefers the pronunciation ‘Treys’) appears, she brings two plates of pancakes and steaming hot coffee. As a result, I can truthfully testify that the food at the Thatch is as yummy as the new décor. 

‘I want this to be a family pub and café,’ Therese says, ‘not just a place for old drunk men.’

Toward that end, gone is the sagging thatched roof with green weeds sprouting out of it. It’s been replaced with pristine new thatch. Therese and her friends and family scrubbed the inside of the place, repainted it, and made the adjoining café room as cosy as ‘someone’s parlour,’ as she puts it. Next, she plans to have Irish sayings painted on the pub walls, to make sure the place keeps its heritage, and she’s planning a small garden in back for outdoor dining.

When I ask her what she misses most about Oz, she says the weather, of course, but also the life style. ‘I really miss the huge shopping centres there,’ she says with an mischievous smile. ‘Most of all, I miss my family.’ Her children, all grown now, are still in Sydney. She proudly tells me one’s a forensic biologist, another is a detective, and the third is an electrician. ‘I hated leaving them behind.’ But they all managed to come home to Headford as a surprise for her 50^th birthday last year.

Therese says she’s always been a people person and ‘looking after everyone . . . that’s the way I was brought up. Mammy and Daddy had a ten-bed B&B in Headford called Mount Carmel. It was the best training I could’ve had.’

Back when Therese and her young family emigrated, there were very few jobs or opportunities here. ‘I set goals,’ she says. And this was a big one. ‘Every five years I re-evaluate. That’s giving you something to work for all your life.’

‘Moving to Australia made us very independent. It taught us as a young couple to stand on our own two feet. The worst part was that our kids didn’t have grandparents like everyone else did. But, now, we have life-long friends there.’

While in Australia, she got additional training in Hospitality Management and Commercial Cookery, and managed a restaurant there.

Therese Greaney, Proprietor

I ask Therese if there’s anything she’d like people to know. ‘Yes,’ she says. ‘I’d like people to know that everyone who walks through the door is welcome here, no matter what they’re wearing.’

That makes me laugh and I have to ask, ‘No matter what they’re wearing?

‘That’s right,’ she says. And then she explains that someone came by the pub asking for a job, but all the jobs were filled. She didn’t have one to offer them. So that person retaliated by starting a rumour that farmers and anyone wearing wellies were not allowed in the Thatch Pub. As a result, Therese is taking this opportunity to let the world know—whether you’re wearing wellies, walking shoes, stilettos, or anything in between—you’re welcome in the Thatch.

The Thatch Pub is open Tuesday through Sunday for food and drinks, and the café serves meals in the evenings. On Thursday nights, there will be trad music starting at 9 pm.

Therese says the best thing about moving home is being with family and friends again. ‘We’d be lost without them.’ She lists sisters, nieces, nephews and in-laws who have all helped, not only with renovating the Thatch, but also with looking after it. ‘And we have a brilliant staff.’ It seems pretty clear, Therese is glad to be back home in Headford.

At the end of The Wizard of Oz, Glinda tells Dorothy that she’s had the power to return herself home all along, she just didn’t know it. Overall, the film affirms that we each have the ability to get what we want. Like Dorothy, Therese Greaney went on a far-away adventure to Oz, but got herself back to the home she loves.