The Hogans of Glenart

My poor long suffering wife must be tired of hearing about "Glenart" - my late mother's family home. It was bigger by far than any house which we could ever aspire to and it had a room to suit all those old fashioned words - a drawing room, a sitting room, a scullery, and not one but two pantries - one of which had once been the maid's quarters - an outside loo had a willow pattern toilet pan - by now you have the general idea - I won't labour the point. This house was located on Glenart Avenue in Blackrock and was the home of my aunt - a larger than life, wonderful woman who was the life and soul of every party - and whose hospitality was legendary. My aunt, Una, was a caterer by profession and enjoyed catering so much that in her spare time she still catered. She catered for parties for several well-known people, she iced wedding cakes for the great and the good - and at Christmas time she threw one or two major parties in her own home - usually a children's party and an adults' one as well.

Mammy and Daddy’s first children were three lovely little girls, Una, Eitne and Nuala.¹ One of Daddy’s theories was that if you started the day with a bowl of porridge, no harm would come to you. In an effort to get his daughters to eat their porridge he devised a bribe – if they promised to eat their porridge, he would write their name in golden syrup on it. Well, who could reject such a sweet bribe? All went well and porridge was consumed every day and presumably Daddy was delighted with his brilliant idea.