Dr Niamh On The Plum Tree

Childhood Imagination Sows Seeds of Future Brilliance

Paddy’s Green Shamrock Shore By Niamh Clune

THE BeZINE

Sir$20George$20Robey$202 I grew up in London Irish pubs where music was inwoven into the fabric of daily life. One of my father’s few redeeming features was that he was a good musician, some would say fabulous, even. He played big band swing and bebop on sax and clarinet. When he wanted to torture my mother, he played Irish jigs on the silver flute (should always be played on the simple wooden flute) without feeling or nótaí ghrásta(grace notes). Basically, according to my mother, a bepob player should leave the traditional alone.

Musicians such as The Dubliners stayed with us in the pub we ran in Finsbury Park, The Sir George Robey, then known as The Clarence, and now derelict, and drank us out of house and home. Many exiled and lonely young men full of music, poetry, politics and idealistic intellect passed through our ever-open doors ~ bees to honey, the honey…

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About Dr Niamh

When I was a little girl (a very, very long time ago), I used to love learning new, really big words like ‘discombobulate’. As I grew, my love of words grew too, until I loved them so much, I could not stop writing them down. One day, as I was scribbling a particular word, a very peculiar thing happened. The word shouted at me, “Stop! Don’t put me there!” As you can imagine, I was shocked and nearly fell off my chair. When I recovered somewhat, I said to the word, “Could you stop shouting, please? I am not used to it.” Can you guess what happened next? No! I thought not. The word said, “I might be small, but I will misbehave if you do not use me properly. I will not tell the story you would like me to tell. I will say something entirely different!” I dropped my pen. I hoped that by dropping my pen, the word would stop talking. Alas! It did not. It carried on chitterchobbling, even after the ink had dried. I was in a pickle. I could not allow my words to run away with my story, now could I? I don’t know about you, but when this sort of thing happens, there is only one thing left to do if you prefer not to spend your time arguing. “Very well,” said I. “I will do as you ask if you will just be quiet and allow me to concentrate.” Since that day, I have been paying special attention to every word I invite into my stories. After all, a story should say exactly what it means to say and not be led astray. With love from Dr. Niamh, Ph.D in Learning Through The Imagination and Founder of Dr Niamh Children's Books. www.drniamhchildrensbooks.com

8 comments on “Paddy’s Green Shamrock Shore By Niamh Clune

  1. davidprosser
    March 17, 2014

    That was astonishing Niamh. Why are you not still on the stage? You’re such an amazing woman.
    xxx Massive Hugs xxx

    Like

    • ontheplumtree
      March 17, 2014

      Oh! David, I don’t want to be on the stage…only for the purpose of sharing my current passion…reading to little ones!

      Like

  2. Darlene
    March 17, 2014

    Happy St. Patrick’s Day my lovely, multi-talented Irish friend. Thanks for sharing that very moving song with us. I am in awe.

    Like

  3. thiskidreviewsbooks
    March 18, 2014

    Happy St. Paddy’s Day! 🙂

    Like

  4. drpendyala2005
    March 19, 2014

    wow, just read it and heard your voice..great song and singing..and of course, excellent write-up dear Niamh Clune…Happy St Patrick’s day…!!

    Like

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This entry was posted on March 17, 2014 by in Special Projects.
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