Growing up in Tallaght Village

I grew up across the road from the Dominican Priory, which we called “The College”. Back then it was a self-sufficient working farm with dairy cows, beef cattle and tillage. A large orchard was part of this set up.
‘The village rears the child’, was the principle practiced back then. We couldn’t have had a safer environment, everyone knew everyone. Dangerous play was nipped in the bud if we were caught.
Toys were few and far between. Our play was social interaction where, apart from a skipping rope very little was needed. The middle of the Main Street was our skipping ground. Every now and then we had to move to one side to let a car pass. When we got tired of skipping we played games such as; Giant Steps, O’Grady Says, Red Rover, Stands a Lady on the Mountain. Hide and go seek was another favourite.
Every now and again fights would erupt and play would be “Suspended” but not for long. We needed each other!
Autumn was marked by collecting blackberries for tarts and jam. A lot was consumed by the busy pickers, their mouths smeared with purple juice. Apples were also ripe around this time. The Collage sold produce to the villagers at a fair price, but nicked apples tasted much sweeter than bought ones. This type of activity was organised like a secret mission, and had its own secret code name, “Boxing the Fox”. We needed a few gunny sacks to hide the spoils. Pockets were not big enough. These had to be organised. When everything was set up we sauntered one by one through the open gates and approached the orchard. All this stealth was of no use, when we reached our destination and saw the lovely rosy apples we became animated, and laughing and shouting we sank our teeth into the stolen fruit. Thinking about it now I’m sure the Lay Brothers who worked the farm knew what was going on. We were fair thieves though and didn’t do the dog on it. Besides we had other orchards to plunder, like the one at the back of Molloy’s Pub.
One time as we approached the gates with our booty we couldn’t believe our eyes! For the first time ever, the gates were locked! Our shouts and laughter had given some pedantic, probably new Lay Brother an idea how to confront us. We would have to go to the Priory Hall Door and asked to be allowed out, losing all our apples in the process. The unanimous decision was, climb over the wall! Which we did, without breaking our necks. As it was late and getting dark we didn’t have time to divvy up the spoils, so we hid them in a hedge in one of the houses across from the College wall. Someone must have noticed this. Imagine our shock when we went to collect them the next day, not one was left! Even our precious gunny sacks had disappeared.
Looking back I feel very privileged to have had a wild and free rural childhood with so many lasting memories.