Cavan

olld

”Pat.”

”Frank.”

”Well.”

”Well.”

”Hows she cuttin?”

”You know how it is. Thanks be to God for the little bit a business. And yourself, hows the farm?”

”Ah the same ya know, can’t complain. Keeps body and soul together.”

”Aye.”

”Aye.”

”What can I do ya for?”

”Well now, ya wouldn’t have something to help with the sleep?”

”Insomnia is it?”

”Aye. Powerful hard to get a good night since the kids left.”

”Aye. I’ll have a look now… Here it is, put an elephant to bed it would. That it, is it?”

”Em no, no. Couple more bits and pieces. Hows Catherine these days?”

”Ah, sure you know yourself. The same. Still a beauty, still a torment.”

”Ha, I do indeed Pat. I well remember the troop of lads she’d have after her back in the day.”

”Aye, sure weren’t there more than a few fellas went to the priesthood, after I wed her up in Bothar Brugha?”

”A fine woman.”

”A fine woman… Any word from Blathnaid?”

”None, none. No word, no.”

”Aye. So what else was it Frank?”

”Would ya have a stout bit of rope. ’Bout twelve foot?”

”Hooving bullocks is it?”

”Aye, that’s it.”

”Let me have a look. Though I had a coil of it. Bit dear.”

”Ah, no bother, throw it in there.”

”I will. I will. Was that all?”

”Few more messages Pat. Could ya let me have a pint of pineapple juice?”

”Aye.”

”And a bag of spuds.”

”Would you not be getting them from Connor McPherson?”

”Ah no Pat, sure didn’t he pass away last year.”

”Jeasus, you’re right. Imagine me forgetting a thing like that. A cute wee hoor was Connor. Under his tractor wasn’t it? Desperate accident.”

”Accident, aye.”

”Will that be it Frank?”

”Aye, almost. Ya wouldn’t have a tin a double-ya-dee-fourty?”

”Aye.”

”And that paper I like.”

”The dirty one?”

”Aye.”

”Sure isn’t it under the counter for ya, same as always. There ya go boyo. Sure there’s no need to be queer ’bout it, tis a different world these days.”

”Hauld your whisht.”

”Was that it?”

”Would ya have a few shots a twelve gauge?”

”Hares is it?”

”Aye, for the hares.”

”Alright so. Box a twenty shells. Let me peddle that inta the till here… Comes to thirty two pound fifty.”

”Grand.”

”Great stuff. Here’s your change. Will ya be off anywhere this summer yourself ?”

”Wouldn’t say so, wouldn’t say so. You?”

”Ah sure doesn’t Catherine have her heart set on Mauritius. I’ll see ya next week sure enough any-way.”

”Aye.”

”Aye.”

”Pat.”

”Frank.”

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s