A Blogging Bogger
Sitting atop a trailer load of cut turf as a child with my friend. His Dad carefully tugging us along with the tractor, on the short journey from the bog back to his family home. My friend and I acting as unofficial traffic wardens, as we commanded the cars behind the tractor, to ‘stay’ or ‘go’ with the wave of a hand. We spent two full days loading and unloading turf from that trailer. Once the turf was unloaded it was stacked in the shed. Ready for use to keep the house warm that coming winter. I loved every minute of it. Outside, all day, with my friend, in the sunshine, working like men, with men we aspired to be as strong as. This is one of many memories that spring to mind when I think of bogs or turf. Bogs and their use for fuel have a long history in Ireland. Indeed the image of turf and the process by which it is extracted from the land, turf cutting, is still used on postcards to promote an image of Ireland abroad. But it was not until later in life that I learned