Not the face!

Boy, I sure showed those wasps who’s boss!


The traps worked fine but not all the wasps took the bait. There are plenty of them left in the skip…waiting for me.

By coincidence, yesterday, there was a feature on the radio about wasps and their purpose in life. Yes, wasps have a purpose. It turns out they actually keep other pests at bay, like ants, flies, and moths. I kinda felt guilty (slightly) when I heard that.

It’s a pity they can’t tell a moth from a trucker.

I have to get this off my chest or I will explode;

Is it just me or do you find blogging about daily stuff extra hard these days? I am finding it really really hard.

The truth is I can’t get all the mayhem and killing out of my head. I have typed and deleted so many potential posts about Gaza, Ukraine, Ebola, various News channels with their spin.

I don’t like guns at all. I don’t like leaders who encourage young men and women to kill each other. Somebody should hand the leader a gun and say “After you. Lead us into battle.”

I wish all the soldiers of all the armies in the world would come to their senses and realise they are just pawns. Try a different job. Make the leaders duke it out between themselves.

Look at our hands, they are designed to create, not destroy. What sickens me is the way the gun designers have made gun handles contoured to fit perfectly into the human hand. Nice and snug. What kind of mind would design such a thing?

Comfort grip

Comfort grip

God designed our index finger for something other than a trigger.

comfort grip

Comfort grip


Where did it all go wrong?


The truth of war

The truth of war

It took me two hours to find the right words, without taking sides. Two hours of typing and deleting and typing again. That picture above says it all about guns and bombs and armies and war.

God watch over their parents and give them strength.

Sorry. Had to get that off my chest.

Thank you for reading




Wasps ‘R’ us.


He turned to me and goes “Holy smoke, I never saw one that big before!”

In one corner of the yard, at the company headquarters, there is a refuse skip. Into it we dispose of any non-recyclable rubbish. Being summertime one can expect a wasp or two hanging around for a sugary treat.

But today it was like wasp-ageddon! Every wasp in Ireland had congregated around our skip. There were some quite large ones also, as a workmate pointed out. Honest to God, you were taking your life in your hands going near it.

But being the fearless hero that I am, I rattled up a few wasp traps and, risking my perfect unblemished skin for the safety of others, I placed them at key locations around the skip. I can’t take credit for the design. These wasp traps have been around since the invention of the plastic drinks bottle.

Heeere waspy waspy

Heeere waspy waspy

Tomorrow will tell the tale. Either the bottles will be buzzing, or the wasp witch will spot me coming and be like “Fly my pretties, fly!” and I will be running away going “Not the face, not the face…”

Do wasps serve a purpose? Like bees, you know?

If so…oops!

Thank you for reading



They never waste a crisis.

The oil and gas giants never waste a crisis, do they!

While Irish eyes are focussed on the genocide in Gaza, the fracking company “Tamboran” use the opportunity to move their drilling equipment into a quarry in County Fermanagh, last week.

With all the cases of cancer and infertility and birth defects linked to fracking, I honestly thought that the politicians of this island would never allow this drilling to go ahead. But yet again they let the people down. They don’t seem to understand that once the ground and water is polluted, it’s polluted forever; the leaks can not be plugged in these underground fractures.

This first drilling will affect the future of the whole island. This is the thin edge of the wedge unless it is stopped and stopped now. Remember the oil pipe off the Mayo coast? That went ahead because short term big money was worth more than human rights. I was sure that it too would be stopped. I was wrong.

It seems if you have enough money you can shift the “human rights goalposts” to suit your business.

You can

Here is a video of some locals gathering at the quarry gates when they heard the news. They were last to know, as always.

I hope people in Ireland will use the social media and other methods to support the people of County Fermanagh. It seems to have educated everybody to the plight of Gaza. It might work for Fermanagh also. It’s worth a try…for all our sakes.

Thank you for reading


I am somebody now!


I don’t know about you but I enjoy reunions. I had a reunion with a few old schoolmates last week. It was good fun, recalling all the antics.

We got away with murder. There is one story in particular that sums up what we were like, back in the day. But before I share it there is something else that happened during the week. It gave me cause for much excitement. This blog is officially in the running for Ireland’s most coveted prize in blogging. I will have to pull the socks up and get serious for the next few months. You can view the long-list here

To see the words “Trucker Turning Write” in the list gave me such a smile. I knew it was nominated thanks to Liz at  and my wife who both encouraged me to give it a go. Even if nothing comes of it the following clip sums up the feeling of simply being on the nominee list.



It’s Saturday night and I am treating myself to a few beers at home. I enjoy a beer at weekends. I never really developed a taste for anything stronger. But…

There was a friend of mine whose parents were teetotallers. They didn’t drink alcohol but they always kept a bottle or two about the house, for visitors, you know. My friend was a normal teenager, curious about all things taboo. Sometimes when he got the chance he would try a drop behind his parents’ back. Vodka was his preference. He would consume as much as the circumstances would allow and simply top the bottle up with water.

This practice continued from midsummer all the way to Christmas until the bottle was so watered down that it was basically…just water.

All was fine until his parents invited the neighbours around for “a wee drop of Christmas cheer”. Being typically Irish the neighbours accepted generous top-ups without complaining about the vodka. But being typically Irish they went around the neighbourhood the following day telling everybody about the Christmas Scrooges who tried to pass off a bottle of water as vodka.

It didn’t take long for word to filter back to the parents. They were in shock. They promptly did what every Irish parent would do…totally overlooked anything domestic; their sons were good boys, beyond suspicion.

No, they took the nearly empty bottle and drove straight into town, to the off-licence (liquor store) where the bottle was initially purchased and demanded a refund and an apology. After much arguing, believe it or not, they got their apology, having somehow managed to convince the storekeeper that somebody working in his establishment had been helping themselves behind his back.

The perfect crime.

Those were the days. They don’t make parents like they used to.

Teens? I reckon teens will be teens in every generation.

Thank you for reading


ps…Good luck to all nominees.



He who procrastinates…

He who procrastinates…


Procrastination. I’ll come clean…I had to look it up.

I have heard the term a few times before and I had an idea that it was a swanky word for time wasting. A quick look in the dictionary and, yes, that seems to be what it means.

There is another term I must check out sometime; Ad-hock. The spelling is probably wrong but that is how it sounds. I have heard it used once or twice in the past. I heard it again today on the radio. I think it means “a quick fix”. There is a certain radio host who must have learned all his English from a Jane Austin novel. He speaks like she writes (she wrote), if you know what I mean – Why use a small word when a big word will do? You know the sort. Still, without people like him we would probably be back to babbling if left to our own devices.

Incidentally, I believe the term babbling comes from a Bible story about a tower of babel.  The people of Babylon were building a tower to the heavens and, long story short, God didn’t like it and cursed them all with different languages so they couldn’t understand each other.

I guess something simple like “Pass me the cement, please.” would then come out like “Tobhair dom an straighil, le do thoil.” Before long the builders were like “huh?” Nobody understood each other.

The chances are that is just pure myth but there again, who knows?

Getting back to procrastination, it could also come under the same banner as hesitation. Years ago, at a disco, I was procrastinating about asking a certain girl to dance with me. The tunes played on and the time rolled by and yes, you guessed it, another lad got in before me. I can still hear my friend’s words when I confided my heartbreak to him. “Frankie,” he said as he patted my shoulder “he who hesitates, masturbates!”

So my advice to any procrastinators is – Go easy, too much can make you blind.


Thsnk yiu fir..

Forgive me, I find this font size quite hard to read.

Thank you for reading


In response to

picture from google images



Itchy Ireland

Itchy Ireland

I have a keen interest in the ‘goings on’ of ancient Ireland. Not so much an interest in the academic side of who was who, but in the spiritual side of things.

It fascinates me as to what the ancient Irish believed, in a spiritual sense. I reckon they were more in touch with the signs and nature’s communications around them. The key word being “reckon”. Because that is really all we can do, thousands of years later. We can piece together actual events and dates based on the writings of monks and Roman scholarly types etc., but the gaps have to be filled with educated guesses. And one guess is as good as the next when there is no evidence.

I attended a seminar recently at which various speakers from the respective historical organisations of Ireland came to Donegal and gave us their take on things. It was very interesting at times. At other times it was confusing. It seems it’s not just Country singers we can’t agree on, it’s also archaeology and prehistory. Like the speaker representing the National Museum likening a civilian in possession of a metal detector to some sort of highly organised criminal. I found myself slinking further down into my seat the more he spoke.

I gathered the problem is that there have been cases whereby somebody has found some buried artefact or other and before you could say “Archaeology shmology,” the thing is for sale on the internet to the highest bidder. But of course as with all things in the world we (metal detector owners) get tarred with the one brush. There is practically a zero tolerance of metal detectors everywhere in Ireland apart from the beach.

A few speakers later there was a rep from a different Irish body, The Heritage Council, telling us to keep searching like crazy because “..we have only scratched the surface..” as regards ancient discoveries in Ireland. He was my favourite speaker. I straightened back up in my seat. He was making some very interesting statements. I had assumed like so many others that most pre-historical sites of any major significance had been already found and recorded. Not so, according to him…

…and Not so, according to me also. Because two weeks later I found something!

I found a pyramid! Yeah, baby, you heard me, a pyramid, in Donegal, Ireland.

In truth it’s a large three sided stone, about hip high – showing above the heather. I’m not sure how further down it goes, perhaps a couple of foot. There is a longer version of this story which I am gagging to tell but I must remind myself this is a blog post, not a thesis.

I have been doing an awful lot of hill walking lately. Actually the truth is I never leave the hills. My wife calls me Moses, the kids think I’m half goat. I have always been drawn to hills or mountains. If you haven’t been up one lately, get yourself up soon, you’re missing out. It’s like an out of body experience, looking down on the world below. That’s my main reason for hill walking, the spiritual feeling it brings.

So last week as I trekked along a local hill, on the lookout for the burning bush, I came upon this stone. It was on a stretch of the hill I hadn’t really been on before. I was kinda letting my spirit guide me, if that makes sense. I passed the rock at first but as I did so, that little inner voice goes “take a closer look at that rock”. I went towards it and noticed how it was sitting alone on a kind of plateau. I also noted the triangular shape. As I circled it I got a strong feeling that it was somehow a big deal back in day.

I lifted my head and there on the opposite hill in the distance was Grianán of Aileach, a circular ancient stone building. This three sided stone was pointing directly at it. Grianán was also, from this point, perfectly framed in a distant valley.

Grianán of Aileach is one of those places where some knowledge is known but not all. The current structure, which has been restored once or twice, is believed, by a reliable source, to have been built in around 790AD. But he did hasten to add that the current structure has been built inside the perimeter of a much older structure. Some believe it was a fort, more say it was a place of worship, and others say nothing at all. I did read a theory somewhere that it was an amphitheatre. Garth plays Grianán, hmm.

Not far from this three sided rock there is an ancient burial mound, or Cairn. Local legend says it holds the original builder of Grianán. Guess what, one of the other corners points to the cairn. I am not sure yet where the third corner is pointing, if anywhere. But the following day I returned with a compass. I placed it on top of the stone and it turns out that Grianán is also exactly south of this stone.

My gut feeling is that this stone has some ancient significance. I feel this is the spot from where the site for Grianán was chosen.

I snapped a few photos and created a little slideshow. There also appears to be a ‘human face’ carved, probably by nature’s chisel, into one of the ridges of the stone. See if you can spot it. I wish it could talk to me.

The Heritage Council guy was correct, we have only scratched the surface. Look around you, there is an itch somewhere, begging for centuries to be scratched.

Thank you for reading

Frankie.  (See slideshow below.)




Two pic credits =grianán aerial shot was from and the other was from wikipedia.