FESTIVAL DIARY:IT GETS to be hard going even for the most dedicated revellers. The departure of King Puck at 6pm and his release back into the wild by goat catcher Frank Joy should herald the end of the festival. Somehow it contrived to carry on through another night of merrymaking. Fireworks soared from the old railway bridge over the river as night fell and it was even rumoured that the moon and stars might put in a brief appearance.
Weather-wise it has not been a good Puck, although you would hardly know it from the enthusiastic crowds and the thronged pubs. One of the biggest-selling items on the stalls was the umbrella. The Competition Authority should look at this; there was an almost universal price tag of €5. Then an entrepreneur broke cartel ranks. "€2 the umbrellas," he bawled and attracted a crowd to the stall. "€2 for the broken ones and €5 for the good ones." Thus are fortunes made.
You have to hand it to the good folk here. Hardly will they have the creases out of their livers after Puck than they will have to gird their loins for the Tralee Festival and then, hopefully with an All-Ireland win in between, the survivors will head for Listowel Races. Then it's Christmas. Just as well we have Lent on the distant horizon.
Scattering Day always, despite the best efforts of the revellers, has a slight air of despondency. The real world has been pushed aside for a while but it's still there. It wasn't looking great as we headed into Puck, and coming out the other side it hasn't much improved.
So let's get stuck in and face the wives, hangovers, bank managers and other difficult hurdles. Please let us have none of the "never again" pseudo contrition. This time next year we'll be hard at it once more.
I was told in one of the pubs about the bachelor farmer who was asked why he had never married. "Sure I was never interested," he replied. "The old mother was always at me about it and I ignored her until one day she brought a young wan into the house and then went out leaving me alone with her. Jayz didn't the hussy make a drive at me and I had to decide whether to stay or run."
"What happened next" he was asked?
"I ran," sez he, "and I passed a hare going up the hill. I've had no truck with them women since."
The square was thronged on Scattering Day. Not only with the quick but also the dead, and you could almost feel them pressing all around you to enjoy once more something that was central to their lives, as indeed it is to their descendents.
Today you will be asked "Did you have a good Puck?" The town will be quiet and clean and you will scarcely know what transpired here. I will await the sunshine due on Sunday. Maybe we'll have a bit of a summer. But never mind, we had a great Puck!
• Diary concludes