Signs of the times

Cavan Calling/Steph Booth: I am fascinated with words. If I hear people talking another language I can't stop myself trying to tune in to what they are saying and guess the language they are using.

I am also interested in the way that, although we share a common tongue, our use of it is individual.

In the supermarket the other day, while I waited for Tony to choose some biscuits - he has a very sweet tooth - I noticed a tin printed with Paddington Bear. When my eldest son, Tom, was a little boy he loved stories about Paddington Bear, whose name he mispronounced as Paddlington Tare.

Another of my sons, Sam, had a problem with the word "everybody". For him it became "all the bodies" - an entirely reasonable alternative, just more of a mouthful. These and other linguistic quirks became part of our family language, and they are still used although my sons are now adults.

When we moved to Ireland one of the first phrases I had get used to was "this day week" instead of the English "a week today". Then came the double negatives that are fairly prevalent in west Cavan, particularly at the end of sentences - "not at all, never". At Mass the other Sunday our priest, Father O'Donnell, managed a triple negative. I'm just sorry I can't remember how he did it.

I also love signs with mixed messages. A few years ago Tony and I were in Wales with some friends when we saw one that read "Logs for OAPs". I demanded that we stop the car, so I could trade Tony for logs. A reasonable exchange, I thought. There's another good example near Dublin Port. It reads: "No Parking 24 Hours." Presumably, then, you can park there for 23 hours and 59 minutes without getting into trouble.

One of our favourites is on the road between Cavan and Dublin, advertising a nursing home called Omega. The first time I saw it I started to ask Tony if he had noticed it too, but he interrupted me with the same thought: what an unusual choice for a home for the elderly. Do its residents really want to be reminded of their place near the end of life's cycle by using the last letter of the Greek alphabet?

To be fair to the people who run the home, we were still slightly hysterical from an encounter with psychotic sheep (this was in the early days of our life in Ireland, when we were unused to such things). As we drove over the moors three sheep appeared from what looked like the gateway to a private house and thundered across the road in front of us. In his anxiety not to flatten the sheep Tony almost drove off the road.

Further close encounters are bringing me to the conclusion that sheep are not the docile, grass-munching creatures of popular myth. They are actually quite evil beasts that, with a determined glint, set out to terrorise motorists.

The road to Dublin nonetheless includes experiences other than slightly oddly named establishments and mobs of homicidal ruminants. A real pleasure is the drive along the main road through Navan.

This summer we loved the town's imaginatively planted beds, which exploited their flowers' height, colour and texture - completely unlike most municipal displays. What Tony and I really like is a seating area near some traffic lights that has been designed to look like the deck of a ship, with rails overlooking the river. I would love to have the opportunity to sit there.

We've promised ourselves this treat one day, when we're not in a rush or stuck in traffic, and we can pretend we're sailing far from the madding crowd.

[ sbooth@irish-times.ie ]