Since Canon McGrath retired, we’ve been without a PP here in Killdicken. In fact, the whole area has been without a resident priest for the bones of two years now. Eventually last week, one man was appointed to cover the parishes of Bally, Glengooley, Honetyne and Killdicken.

Much to the discombobulation of those who worry about these things, the new PP, Fr Barney Roche, has decided to base himself in Killdicken.

The faithful in the other three parishes are up in arms with rowdy public meetings and all kinds of delegations sent to the bishop. However, the message came back loud and clear that there was to be one priest and he was to live in Killdicken.

Honetyne native and local councillor Moll Gleeson went personally to the bishop demanding to know how the decision to base the priest in Killdicken was arrived at. She was completely disarmed when his lordship told her he pulled the name out of a hat.

Moll knew when to cut her losses, realising she was on a definite loser if she tried to accuse the bishop of fixing the result or telling lies.

There was further consternation throughout the four parishes when the mode of transport to be employed by the new padre was revealed. He arrived on the rural bus with his bike strapped to the back. Moll Gleeson nearly lost her reason entirely at this.

“Sure we’ll never see him at all?” says she, “he won’t have an arse left on him from cycling around the four parishes.

“What if someone is dyin’ over at the back end of Borrisnangoul and they send for the priest to stamp his eternal passport? By the time Fr Pedal arrives on his high nelly, the poor man or woman will be stranded outside the pearly gates with no papers.”

What is really eating Moll is the fact that, at her suggestion, the people of Honetyne spent €150k renovating their parochial house in the belief that if Honetyne had the best house in the four parishes the priest would live there. The result of the draw from the bishop’s hat means their efforts were in vain and their clerical mansion is empty and idle. But that isn’t the end of the story. When the new clergyman saw the house in Killdicken he declared it far too big for his needs and has rented a flat over the post office, a flat belonging to Superquinn who owns the building. Nell Regan isn’t a bit impressed with this development and thanks her stars that she retired from her job as priest’s housekeeper.

“The indignity of it,” says she to the Mother, “imagine, after the grandeur of the parochial house, to find yourself confined to that cubbyhole over the post office. I shudder to think.”

“What about the virtue of the simple life,” says the Mother, “the Good Book tells us the Son of Man had no where to lay his head,”

“That was fine for him,” says Nell, “he wasn’t a parish priest in south Tipperary.”

“And I suppose if he was to come among us again, to these verdant plains of south Tipperary,” says the Mother, “ he’d have to visit Coolmore or Ballydoyle and trade in his trusty ass for a steed more fitting to his station.”

“Don’t be making fun of me,” says Nell, “and yes, the bike is ridiculous. I suppose he’ll be out on the road thumbin’ a lift when the winter comes.”

“I’m beginning to think Maurice and himself have a lot in common,” says the Mother, “except for the sandals.”

“Why, does Maurice wear sandals?” asked Nell

“No,”says the Mother, “but the new PP does.”

“For the love and honour of God, is that what we have now; a sandal-wearin’ radical?”

“But,” says the Mother, “he probably believes in the ordination of women, a cause very close to your own heart.”

“Biddy,” says Nell, “ if I’m ever ordained, I’ll have no bother living in whatever mansion people like Moll Gleeson want to build for me, but you won’t find me ridin’ a bike and stuck in a flat above the post office, or wearin’ sandals for that matter.”

“So, I take it you won’t be applying for the job of housekeeper if Fr Barney should advertise for one?”

“No I won’t. How could you housekeep a matchbox like that, I have some respect for myself.”

Nell turned to leave, but as the Mother opened the door for her, who was standing outside but Fr Barney, doing his rounds arrayed in his sandals and cycling helmet.

The Mother introduced herself and introduced Nell, mentioning that she was housekeeper to the former PP.

“Oh, Nell,” says Fr Barney, “ we can’t afford luxuries like you any more.”

“By the look of things, Father,” says Nell, “we can well afford someone like you.”