Don’t take a picture of that!” was Har Lawlor’s response as I zoomed in with my camera on a scrumptious tomato in the polytunnel in Durrow, Co Laois.
We were walking through his garden and Har was giving me a running commentary on past successes. I waited for my cue when he held up some carrots and parsnips for approval. I sensed permission to shoot had not yet been granted, so we plodded on towards his prize-winning dahlias. As he caressed the petals, flawless in their absolute symmetry, I knew the time was right and I got my photo. This display of dedication to high standards and the quest for perfection in everything he does illustrates his very distinctive character.
“Primrose Cottage”, beside the Phoenix Park, was the place where Har Lawlor was born in 1923. Even the name of his home signalled a future life of growing first-class flowers, fruit and vegetables. He fondly remembers coming home from school to help his mother Ellen, (a florist) and his father Harry to prepare their produce for the Dublin Market.
“I was allowed half an hour’s kick around with the lads and then it was down to work until nightfall,” he remarks cheerfully.
In his teenage years, his father rented a field in the grounds of the Vice Regal Lodge and later leased a walled garden, complete with a glasshouses and an eight-acre field, from Mr David Gray (American ambassador to Ireland 1940-1947). By this stage, 17-year-old Har was well capable of managing the operation on his behalf and employed five men to work with him.
“In those days, every ridge was first worked with a horse and plough. When the sprouts were ready, we’d have to be up picking at 8.30am on frosty mornings and stay going until late evening,” he says.
Har Lawlor for Irish Country Living. \ Claire Nash
Buyers in the market gave top price for the variety of leeks, cabbage, cauliflower and other vegetables they produced. During the war years, they had to save most of their own seeds as they were difficult to purchase – a practice Har continues to this day.
Multi-talented
It wasn’t all work and no play for this talented boxer, soccer player and keen athlete. In fact, he is also a gifted painter who once studied under the guidance of well-known artist of the time, Maurice McGonagle, winning numerous competitions. He had obviously inherited his mother’s entrepreneurial spirit as he spotted an opportunity to use his artistic talent by hand painting silk scarves.
“I bought a set of white handkerchiefs and experimented with a mix of oil paints and linseed oil until I came up with a formula that set well and allowed the fabric to be cleaned. A friend then wore one of my scarves into her workplace in the Ashtown Tin Box Factory. It was much admired by the other girls and so they devised a scheme whereby 20 of them paid a shilling a week each and I would deliver a scarf every Friday. Twenty pounds was a lot of money then, but each scarf required a lot of effort. I was often up until four in the morning painting and would set off to the market at quarter to six,” he recalls.
Unknown to him, his brother Liam, then a salesman with Texaco, brought a sample in to Abraham’s furriers near Grafton Street. At first, they were reluctant to deal with him.
“My brother stood his ground though. He told them to drape it on one of the coats in the window and if it wasn’t sold in an hour, he wouldn’t bother them again!”
Romance Blossoms
His clever marketing ploy paid off and Har got an order for five scarves a week with Abraham’s. By now, he was working “every hour of the clock” but he still managed to find a little time for romance.
During his weekly visits to the market, he met a young florist, Sheila McKeown, whose mother had a delicatessen in Rathmines. Love didn’t blossom immediately, but when Har’s wealthy aunt came on holidays from London, she unknowingly acted as the catalyst for their relationship. She missed the little luxuries of life which were in short supply in Ireland during the war years. When Sheila came to the rescue with a tin of Ovaltine and some oranges, Har tentatively asked her for a date. They agreed to meet on the corner of Stephen’s Green. On the night in question, Har paced up and down near the Gaiety Theatre, scanning the crowd for Sheila.
“I had never seen Sheila ‘dressed up’ before so I was worried I might not recognise her. Suddenly, a girl passed by and I recognised one of my father’s prize chrysanthemums in a delicate corsage on her coat. I raised my eyes to meet hers and said: ‘Excuse me, do we have a date tonight?”
Sheila linked her arm in his and off they went ballroom dancing followed by coffee in ‘The Bodega’ at the top of Grafton Street. They married in 1948 and a year later Harold got a job as head gardener in Dunleckney Manor in Bagenalstown, Co Carlow. His wage was six pounds a week with accommodation provided on the estate and access to all fruit and vegetables grown in the gardens.
Seven busy but happy years flew by as Har and his team of men grew produce for the main house and the Dublin market while Sheila created elaborate floral displays to enhance the halls and dining table up at the manor. Six of the Lawlor children were born there and Sheila appreciated the friendship and support of the land steward’s wife, who became fondly known to all as “Auntie Tess.”
“Once Sheila met her, she settled into country life and never wanted to return to Dublin,” reflects Har. “I’d have been happy to go back, especially when the estate was sold, but when I was offered a job with Captain Hamilton of Moyne Estate in Durrow, Co Laois, she encouraged me to take it.”
Before long, the Lawlor magic wove its spell once again and the gardens at Durrow were producing the usual range of vegetables, while the greenhouses were bursting with nectarines, peaches, tomatoes and exotic fruit. Captain Hamilton was impressed by the bountiful supply and expressed an interest in exhibiting the produce in competition against other large estates in the country. Such challenges became another avenue to success in Har’s busy life.
“I won many all-Ireland vegetable championships with my carrots and parsnips – anytime I didn’t win, I was second! In fact, I won the best onion category five years in a row before it was discontinued for a time because no one would compete against me,” he laughs.
Har was invited to become a member of the Royal Horticultural Society, which demonstrates the respect he’d earned as a champion grower. At the same time, Sheila’s renown as a gifted florist was spreading.
Har Lawlor for Irish Country Living. \ Claire Nash
Enterprising Duo
As their combined skillset grew, Sheila and Har began to discuss the possibility of starting their own garden centre. An orchard of two and a half acres became available for rent in Durrow, which, while needing a huge injection of work, was the stuff of dreams for the enterprising duo. When an apartment over the chemist’s shop was offered to them, they decided to take the plunge.
“Sheila came into her own when we struck out for independence,” reflects Har proudly. “She handled all the money, she was a great business woman.”
Sheila wanted to join “Interflora” (which necessitated a premises and phone line) and in 1967 the display shop and family home were built. They now had ten children to rear, but there was always extra food in the pot for anyone who called. Many young teenagers in Durrow loved to get a part-time job in Bridge Gardens as Sheila would provide them with homemade soup and toasted tomato sandwiches. There was ample love to share in that household too as they adopted Jemma some years after their youngest, Karen, was born.
Life was hectic for all concerned. Twice a week Har would leave home at 4.15am to deliver produce to the Dublin market. From there he would drive out to the airport to collect flowers for Sheila and be back for a day’s work at 10.30am. As the gardens continued to prosper and more glasshouses and polytunnels were added, Lawlor’s Nurseries became synonymous with quality, service and friendly advice.
We were happy with what we achieved in our life together. She knew her area of expertise and I knew mine. We had arguments of course, but we never carried a row on overnight.
“We were happy with what we achieved in our life together. She knew her area of expertise and I knew mine. We had arguments of course, but we never carried a row on overnight,” he says quietly as he remembers his beloved wife, who passed away in January 2010.
Glint Of Mischief
Today, son Martin manages the garden centre and Oliver runs the florist shop, but Har is up and active at 6am most mornings, tending to his polytunnels or welcoming the numerous friends who drop in for a visit. He has revived his interest in painting and thus far has completed a painting for each of his 31 grandchildren, annual Christmas cards and pictures of robins for all 35 great-grandchildren!
“My wife, Sheila, had a special affinity with birds – when she opened a window, a robin used to perch near her,” he recounts wistfully. “Now when any of the extended family see one, they always say: “Here comes Nana Lawlor!”
To lighten the atmosphere, I ask Har what advice he would give to someone who perhaps wanted to start a small plot in their own garden.
“Always buy quality plants and treat them accordingly. It’s best to underfeed rather than overfeed,” he insists. Then, with a glint of mischief in his eyes that belies his 95 years, he adds: “Make plants happy. Keep on their side like you have to with women – or you’ll be in big trouble!” CL
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Don’t take a picture of that!” was Har Lawlor’s response as I zoomed in with my camera on a scrumptious tomato in the polytunnel in Durrow, Co Laois.
We were walking through his garden and Har was giving me a running commentary on past successes. I waited for my cue when he held up some carrots and parsnips for approval. I sensed permission to shoot had not yet been granted, so we plodded on towards his prize-winning dahlias. As he caressed the petals, flawless in their absolute symmetry, I knew the time was right and I got my photo. This display of dedication to high standards and the quest for perfection in everything he does illustrates his very distinctive character.
“Primrose Cottage”, beside the Phoenix Park, was the place where Har Lawlor was born in 1923. Even the name of his home signalled a future life of growing first-class flowers, fruit and vegetables. He fondly remembers coming home from school to help his mother Ellen, (a florist) and his father Harry to prepare their produce for the Dublin Market.
“I was allowed half an hour’s kick around with the lads and then it was down to work until nightfall,” he remarks cheerfully.
In his teenage years, his father rented a field in the grounds of the Vice Regal Lodge and later leased a walled garden, complete with a glasshouses and an eight-acre field, from Mr David Gray (American ambassador to Ireland 1940-1947). By this stage, 17-year-old Har was well capable of managing the operation on his behalf and employed five men to work with him.
“In those days, every ridge was first worked with a horse and plough. When the sprouts were ready, we’d have to be up picking at 8.30am on frosty mornings and stay going until late evening,” he says.
Har Lawlor for Irish Country Living. \ Claire Nash
Buyers in the market gave top price for the variety of leeks, cabbage, cauliflower and other vegetables they produced. During the war years, they had to save most of their own seeds as they were difficult to purchase – a practice Har continues to this day.
Multi-talented
It wasn’t all work and no play for this talented boxer, soccer player and keen athlete. In fact, he is also a gifted painter who once studied under the guidance of well-known artist of the time, Maurice McGonagle, winning numerous competitions. He had obviously inherited his mother’s entrepreneurial spirit as he spotted an opportunity to use his artistic talent by hand painting silk scarves.
“I bought a set of white handkerchiefs and experimented with a mix of oil paints and linseed oil until I came up with a formula that set well and allowed the fabric to be cleaned. A friend then wore one of my scarves into her workplace in the Ashtown Tin Box Factory. It was much admired by the other girls and so they devised a scheme whereby 20 of them paid a shilling a week each and I would deliver a scarf every Friday. Twenty pounds was a lot of money then, but each scarf required a lot of effort. I was often up until four in the morning painting and would set off to the market at quarter to six,” he recalls.
Unknown to him, his brother Liam, then a salesman with Texaco, brought a sample in to Abraham’s furriers near Grafton Street. At first, they were reluctant to deal with him.
“My brother stood his ground though. He told them to drape it on one of the coats in the window and if it wasn’t sold in an hour, he wouldn’t bother them again!”
Romance Blossoms
His clever marketing ploy paid off and Har got an order for five scarves a week with Abraham’s. By now, he was working “every hour of the clock” but he still managed to find a little time for romance.
During his weekly visits to the market, he met a young florist, Sheila McKeown, whose mother had a delicatessen in Rathmines. Love didn’t blossom immediately, but when Har’s wealthy aunt came on holidays from London, she unknowingly acted as the catalyst for their relationship. She missed the little luxuries of life which were in short supply in Ireland during the war years. When Sheila came to the rescue with a tin of Ovaltine and some oranges, Har tentatively asked her for a date. They agreed to meet on the corner of Stephen’s Green. On the night in question, Har paced up and down near the Gaiety Theatre, scanning the crowd for Sheila.
“I had never seen Sheila ‘dressed up’ before so I was worried I might not recognise her. Suddenly, a girl passed by and I recognised one of my father’s prize chrysanthemums in a delicate corsage on her coat. I raised my eyes to meet hers and said: ‘Excuse me, do we have a date tonight?”
Sheila linked her arm in his and off they went ballroom dancing followed by coffee in ‘The Bodega’ at the top of Grafton Street. They married in 1948 and a year later Harold got a job as head gardener in Dunleckney Manor in Bagenalstown, Co Carlow. His wage was six pounds a week with accommodation provided on the estate and access to all fruit and vegetables grown in the gardens.
Seven busy but happy years flew by as Har and his team of men grew produce for the main house and the Dublin market while Sheila created elaborate floral displays to enhance the halls and dining table up at the manor. Six of the Lawlor children were born there and Sheila appreciated the friendship and support of the land steward’s wife, who became fondly known to all as “Auntie Tess.”
“Once Sheila met her, she settled into country life and never wanted to return to Dublin,” reflects Har. “I’d have been happy to go back, especially when the estate was sold, but when I was offered a job with Captain Hamilton of Moyne Estate in Durrow, Co Laois, she encouraged me to take it.”
Before long, the Lawlor magic wove its spell once again and the gardens at Durrow were producing the usual range of vegetables, while the greenhouses were bursting with nectarines, peaches, tomatoes and exotic fruit. Captain Hamilton was impressed by the bountiful supply and expressed an interest in exhibiting the produce in competition against other large estates in the country. Such challenges became another avenue to success in Har’s busy life.
“I won many all-Ireland vegetable championships with my carrots and parsnips – anytime I didn’t win, I was second! In fact, I won the best onion category five years in a row before it was discontinued for a time because no one would compete against me,” he laughs.
Har was invited to become a member of the Royal Horticultural Society, which demonstrates the respect he’d earned as a champion grower. At the same time, Sheila’s renown as a gifted florist was spreading.
Har Lawlor for Irish Country Living. \ Claire Nash
Enterprising Duo
As their combined skillset grew, Sheila and Har began to discuss the possibility of starting their own garden centre. An orchard of two and a half acres became available for rent in Durrow, which, while needing a huge injection of work, was the stuff of dreams for the enterprising duo. When an apartment over the chemist’s shop was offered to them, they decided to take the plunge.
“Sheila came into her own when we struck out for independence,” reflects Har proudly. “She handled all the money, she was a great business woman.”
Sheila wanted to join “Interflora” (which necessitated a premises and phone line) and in 1967 the display shop and family home were built. They now had ten children to rear, but there was always extra food in the pot for anyone who called. Many young teenagers in Durrow loved to get a part-time job in Bridge Gardens as Sheila would provide them with homemade soup and toasted tomato sandwiches. There was ample love to share in that household too as they adopted Jemma some years after their youngest, Karen, was born.
Life was hectic for all concerned. Twice a week Har would leave home at 4.15am to deliver produce to the Dublin market. From there he would drive out to the airport to collect flowers for Sheila and be back for a day’s work at 10.30am. As the gardens continued to prosper and more glasshouses and polytunnels were added, Lawlor’s Nurseries became synonymous with quality, service and friendly advice.
We were happy with what we achieved in our life together. She knew her area of expertise and I knew mine. We had arguments of course, but we never carried a row on overnight.
“We were happy with what we achieved in our life together. She knew her area of expertise and I knew mine. We had arguments of course, but we never carried a row on overnight,” he says quietly as he remembers his beloved wife, who passed away in January 2010.
Glint Of Mischief
Today, son Martin manages the garden centre and Oliver runs the florist shop, but Har is up and active at 6am most mornings, tending to his polytunnels or welcoming the numerous friends who drop in for a visit. He has revived his interest in painting and thus far has completed a painting for each of his 31 grandchildren, annual Christmas cards and pictures of robins for all 35 great-grandchildren!
“My wife, Sheila, had a special affinity with birds – when she opened a window, a robin used to perch near her,” he recounts wistfully. “Now when any of the extended family see one, they always say: “Here comes Nana Lawlor!”
To lighten the atmosphere, I ask Har what advice he would give to someone who perhaps wanted to start a small plot in their own garden.
“Always buy quality plants and treat them accordingly. It’s best to underfeed rather than overfeed,” he insists. Then, with a glint of mischief in his eyes that belies his 95 years, he adds: “Make plants happy. Keep on their side like you have to with women – or you’ll be in big trouble!” CL
Read more
Tell me again: treasuring the tales of the older generation
When a dog - not a diamond - is a girl's best friend
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