Farmers deserve return of Glenroe

I put my feet up over Christmas, and gave my toes a right good toasting by the fire. ’Twas the least I deserved, worn out from a year of farming. Anyway, while resting, I viewed plenty of programmes on the box, yarns where fellows were running, jumping and kissing all before them. Boring old sagas for the most part.
Farmers deserve return of Glenroe

But, suddenly, one night came this programme that had me glued from the start.

‘Well, Holy God, it’s Glenroe’ was all about Ireland’s greatest ever rural soap.

And as I watched, all I could think was, why isn’t Glenroe back on our screens?

Us farmers have, through our hard work, brought Ireland back from the brink of bankruptcy, the least we deserve is the return of our Glenroe.

“Bring it back!” I roared at the television on countless occasions on that Sunday night.

If that wasn’t bad enough, last week I heard the sad news that Wesley Burrowes, who created the Glenroe series in 1983, died after a long illness, aged 85.

Plenty of things have come back.

Con Lucey came back in the IFA, even the floods came back. Glenroe must come back too.

And if Glenroe comes back, Biddy must be in it. There can be no Glenroe without Biddy.

“But Biddy died in a car crash, you old fool,” you might cry.

Well, that’s only a trivial matter. Bobby died in Dallas, but came bouncing back in the shower years later.

Anything is possible with a soap.

Biddy’s return to Glenroe is a must.

We can explain her death as a rambling dream of Father Devereaux’s.

The parish priest, with a bit too much altar wine on board, had dreamed the whole thing up.

Biddy’s alive and well, and that’s the end of it.

And as for story lines, say no more.

After seeing the programme, I rose from my resting spot like Lazarus , and taking a pen in hand, wrote the whole thing out.

First of all, as I said, Biddy is back, and the new Glenroe takes off with her.

She’s now married to George, and George is all for putting up them wind turbines on his grand estate.

“By Jove,” says he to Biddy over the breakfast, “I jolly well think that them turbines would be frightfully good for me.”

“Indeed they won’t,” Biddy pipes back, slamming her coffee mug on the table.

“If you put up a wind turbine, George Manning, ’twill be the last erection you’ll ever perform.” Biddy, bless her, as feisty as ever.

And Dick Moran is back too, living happily in a retirement village with Mary on the outskirts of Glenroe.

But Dick, as always, is up to his old tricks, flirting with his golden years neighbours, and getting up to mischief.

Blackie Connors, I wrote, is now the head of the IFA.

The organisation needed a fellow with Blackie’s honesty to get them back on track.

And I introduced new characters.

Actor Russell Crowe, I think, would be mighty on Glenroe, as Miley’s younger brother, Mossie.

Mossie arrives without an arse to his pants to take over the Byrne family farm, and ends up making a decent living as a beef farmer.

I found this the hardest part to write, because making money from beef farming is an impossible dream.

Bringing Biddy back from the dead was easy, by comparison.

Anyhow, Mossie ends up having a big, mad, passionate love affair with Biddy.

It will be mighty stuff altogether, like something from a Michael Douglas movie.

Glenroe must come back in 2016, and I’ll be doing my damnedest to make sure.

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