Denis Lehane: I’m dreaming of a fine summer

A day for the beach last Sunday in Co Mayo, as temperatures soared.

I spent a major part of last week on my knees praying for good weather. 

With the First Holy Communion scheduled for Saturday last, and with our own lovely daughter Sarah one of the candidates, the pressure was really on.

And knowing full well, like Danny Healy-Rae, that it’s “God above” who is in charge of the weather, should you have called to my farm, on my knees is where you would have found me.

Alas and alack, in spite of my prayers, Saturday was a wash out. So once the communion had finished, I stayed on in the church for a spell, to see if God might tell me where it all went wrong.

And do you know what God told me as I sat there, all alone, in Kilmurry church? He told me absolutely nothing. I got a cold shoulder on a wet Saturday.

Anyhow, on the day progressed, and, in spite of the wet weather, it went swimmingly well.

Children, you see, don’t give a hoot about the rain, it’s us adults who do all the complaining.

We headed to the National School, where some delicious light refreshments were laid out. 

And later in the day, I have to confess, I indulged in a few heavier refreshments, the type that comes in a pint glass, so by the end of it all, I was the very content fellow. 

With the result that when I came home in the evening I wasn’t in any way fit to face the trials and tribulations of farming.

My farming would have to be done from an armchair, for it was there I settled myself, in front for the fire. Soon I drifted off to sleep.

Well if I did, just like Moses or some fellow, wasn’t it here that God appeared, to answer any questions I would like to throw at him.

And what questions did I ask him in my dream?

Did I ask about the afterlife or the meaning of this life?

Of course not, I quizzed on the man on the weather.

“Do you want the immediate or long range forecast?” he queried.

“Well God,” says I, “you can start with today, starting with why you allowed the heavens to open up over Kilmurry and soak us all entirely.”

“Would it not be better,” says he “for the rain to fall today, than on a day when you have a field of hay lined up to be square baled?”

And God was talking sense, of course.

“So what’s the long term forecast?” I then asked the man above.

And God told me that for the remainder of the summer it will remain mainly dry, except for a bit of rainfall in the middle of July.

“It will be good all the way,” says he, “right up to Ballabuidhe Horse Fair.”

In fact, he might be able to hold off the rain until after Puck Fair.

And then, of course, I asked him about the Healy-Raes and their controversy surrounding weather.

“Well,” says the Almighty in my dream, “the Healy-Raes are rogues of the highest order.” 

And he told me that of all the Kingdoms in the world, there is a special place in heaven for all those who hail from the Kingdom of Kerry.

While on the subject of politics, and before I awoke, I asked God what his thoughts were on our new Minister for Agriculture, Michael Creed. 

“Will he be any good at all?” I asked.

“Creed” says he “will be a good minister, he could well be a great one. So long,” he then warned, “as he doesn’t think he’s God almighty.”


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