AINE O’CONNOR Carbon dating plenty of loaves and fish

WHEN I was a child of intermediate variety I liked going to Cornelscourt with my mother. Not the during-the-day trips that involved little brothers, but the evening ones — just me and her. The Dunnes Stores is long since changed but I remember that incarnation well. There were signs hanging from the ceiling, one said Hosiery, another Lingerie, which, to this day reads linger-ee in my head. (“Mamma, what’s ling..ge..ree?” Only joking, we didn’t call her Mamma, it was Milady.)

There were also some small shops, one of which was a stationer where one time I discovered a box of crayons, small, arty ones in 100 colours. In my memory, 1970s Ireland only had about eight colours, most of them shades of green, natch, so a box of 100 colours seemed to open a world of possibilities.

My mother must have concurred. For despite it being the era of only getting stuff via your birthday, Christmas or saving up pocket money — and it being none of the above — she bought me the crayons. Seriously, 40-odd years later and I can still feel the delight.

One of the things I drew was St Patrick, in school. At home I wasn’t given to too much iconography, and I probably only let select classmates borrow my assorted flesh tones. This memory made me realise that my St Patrick learning had stopped in fourth class, so it being the season I hit Wiki.

Under St Patrick I saw the headings Name, Dating... DATING? Whoa, I had missed out. Further reading revealed that Patrick was not on Tinder. It was just historical. I was surprisingly disappointed, but I live in hope. After all, I only just learned that Mary Magdalene is now an official apostle.