How to be happy and unhappy

Jean's Journal with Jean Farrell

Apps are awesome. If a song is being played in the background my brother has an app which can tell him the name of the song, who is singing it, who wrote it, plus more.

If a plane is flying in the sky, another brother has an app which can tell him where that plane is going, where it came from, what airline it belongs to, plus more (useless information!).

Now my youngest gardening sister has an app on her phone which, if she holds it in front of any flower, will tell her the name of the flower or plant, in English and Latin, plus lots more information. Amazing!

As a non-gardening person I thought of how great it would be if ‘Bob A Job’ boy scouts still called to our houses, looking for little jobs to do. I sat gazing out my window today, thinking of all the work I’d have for them.

When we were young my brothers set off, dressed in their boy scout uniform, every Easter holidays. They knocked on neighbours’ doors, keen to do any job there. They were paid a bob, a shilling, twelve old pence, for their work.

Meanwhile, other neighbours’ children (dressed in their boy scout uniforms also) knocked on our door. My mother would find a job for them and then pay them a shilling. I bet many of you remember all this. I presume the ‘bobs’ all went to the scout movement.

I bet you also remember the rose petals which were strewn in front of the Blessed Sacrament during our annual May procession. Girls, who had made their First Holy Communion that year, carried the shoe boxes full of rose petals. These shoe boxes were covered in white cloth. A white ribbon was attached, which enabled them to carry the box around their necks. This was to free up their hands for strewing the rose petals. I never had this job and used to envy the girls who had.

I thought of these rose petals recently. Whilst in France we were taken on a tour of a perfume factory in Grasse. Three and a half tonnes of rose petals are needed to make a small quantity of perfume. Can you imagine how many rose petals are needed to make up three and a half tonnes?

These are put into a HUGE tank and covered with boiling water. The essence of the perfume is in the steam. This steam is gathered and cooled immediately.

That huge amount of rose petals makes one litre of rose essence. This one litre of essence is mixed with three litres of alcohol. That's how perfume (smelling of rose) is made. We were given a tour of the whole perfumery and it was very interesting. Needless to say, there was a shop at the end of the tour selling soaps, eau de toilette as well as many types and quantities of perfume.

Back to Athlone: I attended three events here in town lately, which made me very proud to be from Athlone. I was also reminded of the great work done by so many, for no payment.

One was the official opening of Athlone Boat Club. What a wonderful facility this is, beside the river, for all to use. My husband and his friends have been members forever. They have marvellous memories of very happy times with Athlone Boat Club.

The All Ireland Amateur Drama Festival is also run, each year, by a hard-working committee. These people give of their time freely, also. This festival is a very important national event. Many people come and stay in town all week, attending the plays each night, as well as the fringe events. I congratulate all those involved in the huge organisation of the festival. They do a mighty job, which brings honour and money to our town.

The third occasion that made me proud of Athlone people was the prize giving event for The Saint Patrick's Day parade. All those who took part were invited, as was I. Here I saw numerous adults who run clubs for young people, as well as all those involved in organising the many festivities during our Saint Patrick's festival.

These many people give of their time freely and sometime all they get is criticism, which is terrible. The following, which I read recently comes to mind.

How to be unhappy: Stay inside all day, move as little as possible, spend more than you earn, take yourself too seriously, look for reasons why things won't work, always consume, never contribute, resent the lucky and successful. And be ready to criticise all you can.

The many Athlone folk who get up from their armchairs at night and go out to give of their time to the youth of Athlone are happy people, I imagine. I congratulate you all.

At one of these events I met a young friend, in her early thirties. I knew that this girl had a hectic social life. She told me that she was completely wrecked,

"I had a very rough night," she said. I was aware that it had been her husband's birthday that week. I asked her had they been out celebrating. "Oh no," she replied. "It was the baby. He cried all night long!" Then she suddenly burst out laughing. She was laughing, she told me, because the meaning of a ‘rough night’ has completely changed for her since the birth of her new baby. Such a change! Such is life!