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Sometimes I think she’s messin’ with me, like when Boonmee’s kid turns into a hairy ghost – “What am I lookin’ at here?!” She’ll vanish for days, then pop back, all “Miss me, fatass?” Sarcasm’s her game, but I’m like, yeah, I kinda did, ya nut. She’s a trainwreck, but I can’t look away – makes me wonder if I’m the dope here.

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Dec 31,  · This group was set up for people in Hartstown to help pass on helpful information to each other Private Only members can see who's in the group and what they post.

First stop, I hit up the Hartstown Market on Maple Ave. Best place for fresh veggies and gossip. I’m just mindin’ my own business, sharpenin’ some kitchen knives for Mrs. Jenkins. She’s always got that wild hairdo, like a bird’s nest. Anyway, she starts ramblin’ about her cat, Mr. Whiskers, and how he’s taken to climbin’ trees. I’m like, “Lady, it’s a cat, not a squirrel.” But she’s all serious, like it’s a national crisis.

Death Notice of Joan Laherty (née Casey) (Hartstown, Dublin)