Just culchie things
Those cattle feed bag you use to bag the turf in. Y'know the one that you shake and all of the residual feed comes flying at your face. Those ones.
The bog in general. Like the cutting, rickling, turning, bagging, throwing it onto a trailer and absolutely breaking your back. Then your dad might MIGHT give you €20.
Your grandparents might call you 'a ghrá' or 'a stór' if they grew up somewhere rural. Bonus points if it's near a ghaeltacht.
Your national schools being small as fuck. I'm not joking, the largest population mine had was 25. There were 2 other people in my class.
Having to travel obscene amounts of time to get to secondary school. My bus journey takes 45 minutes. Crazy.
The townie versus culchie divide. I'm aware that Dubliners think anyone not from Dublin is a culchie but that is actually incorrect. People who live in towns are townie and those you live in the ass crack of nowhere are culchies. Townies and culchies do not like each other. Townies think culchies are all thick farmers and culchies think townies are all drug addicts who fuck on the bus on the way to a disco.
Everyone thinking you're a farmer. Now to be fair there's a good chance that you are a farmer. Out of the 25 in my national school I was the only one who didn't have a farm so.
Having to travel to do ANYTHING. Got to get to school? Travel. Go to the shops? Travel. Find a job? Travel usually. Want any amenity that isn't a G.A.A. pitch? Travel.
Your school making the announcent that while they won't be providing transportation to the ploughing (last year's train got hit by a tree) they do understand if people have to disappear for two or three days.
In the end you do slightly fall in love with the place but any feeling for it is crushed by the ever present fact that you will have to leave to find a job and more opportunities than the government sees fit to give to rural ireland. You'll have no choice but to up and leave your home for school, work or just life or if You do choose to stay it's a long hard road of governmental fuckups and lack of anything ahead of you.
Lads driving tractors to school.
It'll be grand sure. Twas. Tis. Twill be.
If you're anywhere near or in a ghaeltacht your grandparents might pepper in Irish into every day speaking. Like my granddad says 'Oh I'm bocht' instead of 'Oh I feel like pure shite' yknow.
Mid whest radio... FM
Please, feel free to add more. I suffer daily because of this.
