2012 in review


The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

The new Boeing 787 Dreamliner can carry about 250 passengers. This blog was viewed about 1,800 times in 2012. If it were a Dreamliner, it would take about 7 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

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“When Flying the Nest is Too Difficult”


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I Have been struck recently by the outpourings of the love of one Mother on twitter. Twitter is my new addiction and I follow some very interesting and erudite people and recently the sense of excitement of @barbarascully at the impending return of her daughter was palpable. As I watched this unfold I thought about the time my own son left home. We had raised him to be a confident, caring and socially aware young man, We were confident that he could find his way in the world and indeed he has. What I hadn’t thought of was how prepared I was as a Father for him leaving our home. I had made sure that he was okay but I wasn’t ok, I was suddenly not needed to provide for him. I didn’t have to feed him, lend him a few bob, pick him up from the pub or the myriad of other things that we do as parents. That affected me, that awakened me to how we look at and talk about us, each other and relationships. Barbara is in the enviable position that she has been able to welcome her daughter back home for Christmas, I on the other hand see my son rarely as he is training to be an officer in the navy, I wont see him this Christmas, because he is spending time in another country with the woman he loves and the worst and best part of all this is that the feelings I am having and that Barbara has expressed so well are feelings of love. So whether you are with those you love at Christmas of whether they are their in your Heart enjoy it and be grateful that no one can take that a way from us.

Happy Christmas

Ado

“Powerscourt”


 

In the stout hills of Wicklow,
so proud standing forth,
nestled in the sweet valley.
lies a place called Powerscourt,

The wind whistles through the ancient trees,
with the Dargle crashing over stone,
the mountains resting on their knees,
and no, one sound can be heard alone,

In painful times, when memories are laid bare,
when all alone with no one there,
it projects itself into my mind,
I can never ever leave it behind,

Its so quiet and still, yet full of noise,
tis vast all consuming yet entirely mine,
it calms and soothes yet invigorates,
awakes, strengthens and relocates.

Adrian McKenna is a front-line child care professional; he has worked for many years with young people and adults in residential care, detention services, mental health services and post-adoption services. He currently works with a large Dublin-based charity. He is a Member of The Irish Association of Social Care Workers, Social Justice Ireland and the YES Campaign for Children.

All views expressed are entirely my own unless otherwise stated and are not representative of any organisation or employer past , present or future.

“Nun “As Gaeilge”


NUN

A poem about learning the Irish Language, this is written in English with some Irish words as I remember them.

 

Nun “As Gaeilge”

Repeat said the Nun, An bhfuil cead agam

again she spat, with venom in the air,

forty little voices afraid, struck numb,

the beauty of the mother tongue sang with despair,

 

Mother of God she wailed towards the light,

are yis Irish at all, do you hear what I say,

the knot in my stomach both hunger and fright,

a language of beauty a torment every day,

 

word after word, rhyme upon rhyme,

liom, leat, leis, leithi, linn, libh and leo,

monotonous and rhythmic time after time,

praying it was right so she’d let us go,

 

I’m 40 years older, well to a year or so,

and my Irish is still in that class,

the nun for all her guster and bustle and go,

was talking our Irish right out of her ass.

 

Adrian McKenna is a frontline child care professional; he has worked for many years with young people and adults in residential care, detention services, mental health services and post-adoption services. He currently works with a large Dublin-based charity. He is a Member of The Irish Association of Social Care Workers, Social Justice Ireland and the YES Campaign for Children.

All views expressed are entirely my own unless otherwise stated and are not representative of any organisation or employer past , present or future.

“My Grandfather”


 

In Memory of My Grandfather James McKenna:

Standing alone at the end of the street,
imposing and fine and solid and strong,
never failing the wanderer or all who may meet,
It’s door always open, for they come along,

The fire always spitting and warmth in the grate,
the yellows the reds, oranges, dance in the room,
how many lives, loves,deaths,marriages have met their fate,
all the memories my grandads’ house could consume,

Now that I’m older i long to be there,
on the end of his bed as his stories unfold,
a man, his life lived, never a care,
to him we’re just children no faults, never bold,

Its strange now he’s gone, to be in his place,
it’s like a human reflection, without a real face,
but the walls are awash of a man so kind,
that lives,loves forever deep in my mind.

Adrian McKenna is a frontline child care professional; he has worked for many years with young people and adults in residential care, detention services, mental health services and post-adoption services. He currently works with a large Dublin-based charity. He is a Member of The Irish Association of Social Care Workers, Social Justice Ireland and the YES Campaign for Children.

All views expressed are entirely my own unless otherwise stated and are not representative of any organisation or employer past , present or future.

“The Swimmer” In tribute to Olympian Gary O’Toole


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The Swimmer: In tribute to Olympian Gary O’Toole

The surface of the pool was pierced, by the power of muscle, skin and bone,
arm over arm he reached out to grasp the water, the swimmer all alone,
splash, splash, arm over arm, the beat of the engine of the swimmer,
above the water pull! stroke one more time,
under water the sound and light much dimmer,
kick, splash, pull, push,stroke,rise,fall, bend,
once, twice,three times more, touch wall , surface ,end.

Adrian McKenna is a frontline child care professional; he has worked for many years with young people and adults in residential care, detention services, mental health services and post-adoption services. He currently works with a large Dublin-based charity. He is a Member of The Irish Association of Social Care Workers, Social Justice Ireland and the YES Campaign for Children.

All views expressed are entirely my own unless otherwise stated and are not representative of any organisation or employer past , present or future.

“The Fidgety Fan Fooly” another children’s poem


A Few more Poems for your Perusal:

The Fidgety Fan Fooly:

The fidgety fan fooly
flipped from rock to rock
he flapped his wings
and pricked his ears much like doctor spock

he flipped and flapped
and flopped and flew
and tiddled and taddled and tapped
he skipped and skaddled
and bibbled and babbled
and around a tree he wrapped

higher and higher, ah much higher than that
he flew into the sky
then he swooped and looped and stooped and re-grouped
the fidgety fan fooly boy.

The Upsy Downsy:

upsy downsy lived on his head
walked on his hands
with his feet in the air
said hello from below
shook hands with his feet
and had very hangy down hair

he drank through his nose
and he ate with his toes
and wrote with an upside down pen
but most of all when he needed to pee
for his efforts he got nine out of ten

he wore his shoes on his hands
his gloves on his feet
and his legs stuck out of his top
he slept with his legs on the pillow
washed upside down in the shower
and fell out of bed with a plop

now, upsy downsy was oh so rare
that they caught him
and built him a housey
the floor was the ceiling
the doors upside down
and his friend was an upside down mousy.

Adrian McKenna is a frontline child care professional; he has worked for many years with young people and adults in residential care, detention services, mental health services and post-adoption services. He currently works with a large Dublin-based charity. He is a Member of The Irish Association of Social Care Workers, Social Justice Ireland and the YES Campaign for Children.

All views expressed are entirely my own unless otherwise stated and are not representative of any organisation or employer past , present or future.

“Deaths Last Breath”


Old man, art by Durer

This is A Short Story that I wrote many years ago:

The old man lay slumbered on the equally old armchair, the artist painted with the speed of a ferret on a riverbank, not knowing that the slumbering old man probably would never see this picture, he had taken his last breath, a breath tinged with the taste of oils on canvas and of turps on brushes, the painting was to be his one dimensional death mask.

Adrian McKenna is a frontline child care professional; he has worked for many years with young people and adults in residential care, detention services, mental health services and post-adoption services. He currently works with a large Dublin-based charity. He is a Member of The Irish Association of Social Care Workers, Social Justice Ireland and the YES Campaign for Children.

All views expressed are entirely my own unless otherwise stated and are not representative of any organisation or employer past , present or future.

In Response to the Killings Worldwide


I have become increasingly saddened by the amount of senseless killings worldwide, allied to the increase in suicide amongst all age and genders, and on reflection I thought I would add my voice to the debate.When you look at violence and deprivation as a societal construct, it is indicative of a much deeper morass, what happened in the USA recently and indeed what has been replicated in other Countries is a sign that “things” are becoming more valuable than people. We are losing the art of community, the art of conversation and the ability to have relationships with each other.There is a dishonesty about the way we interact with each other. This disconnect is allowing us to cause harm to each other because we no longer feel, we no longer have a sense of what is right and wrong, positive and negative. The teaching of our children starts with us, the parents, yet we spend less and less time with our children, we try to get them involved in everything and wonder why they don’t want to talk to us, why they are annoyed and angry. We need to start talking to and teaching our young people how to have relationships with themselves and others. When we start to have relationships again, when we re-build our communities, when we start to educate our children in how society functions, and when we take control of and responsibility for our thoughts , words and actions, we then might begin to see a better world.

Adrian McKenna is a frontline child care professional; he has worked for many years with young people and adults in residential care, detention services, mental health services and post-adoption services. He currently works with a large Dublin-based charity. He is a Member of The Irish Association of Social Care Workers, Social Justice Ireland and the YES Campaign for Children.

All views expressed are entirely my own unless otherwise stated and are not representative of any organisation or employer past , present or future.

“The Hugabugable and Other Nonsense”


Here are a few Poems that I wrote a few years ago, they were intended for children of all ages, I hope you enjoy them, do you still have your inner child.

The Hugabugable (just made for hugs)

Hugabugable was pink and portly and round, and squishy and squashy and squeezy
and soft and bouncy and squishy and warm and fluffy and bluffy and teasy

he loved and he lived, he hugged and he bugged and kissed and cuddled like no other
he was one, he was all, my family, my friend, my uncle, my sister, my brother

every night as i slept he crept up onto my bed, to guard and to guide and to cuddle
keep me warm, snuggle up and love lots just for me, to make sure i was never in a muddle

Muscly bossily (the schoolyard bully)

muscly bossily was huger than most
he had muscles on his ears, nose and mouth
and when you would look at him for a second too long
with his muscles he’d turn you inside out
muscly bullied all in  his class, his friends and the teachers too
and because everyone else was afraid of him, no one really knew what to do

then one day a new kid arrived
and muscly couldnt believe his eyes
for standing there in front of him
was a kid so big he had muscles you couldnt disguise

you see this kid was bigger
much bigger than muscly
and kinder and nicer and friendly
and muscly was now oh so quiet
he no longer wanted to bully

Sloppy Sandy (the messy little girl)

Sloppy Sandy slipped and slopped
and sucked and sipped and sloppied

she had cream on her nose
chocolate on her toes
and a belly oh so full of jelly

there were stains on her hands
and stains on her feet
and gooey stuff from ceiling to floor
her house was so sloppy
that when she went out
she ended up stuck to the door

oh how she tried to keep herself clean
she washed head to toe twice a day
but even when she tried to stay clean
sloppy sandy ended up sloppy anyway.

Adrian McKenna is a frontline child care professional; he has worked for many years with young people and adults in residential care, detention services, mental health services and post-adoption services. He currently works with a large Dublin-based charity. He is a Member of The Irish Association of Social Care Workers, Social Justice Ireland and the YES Campaign for Children.

All views expressed are entirely my own unless otherwise stated and are not representative of any organisation or employer past , present or future.