Thank you for the ‘sweet’ memories Tim!

Blarney village went into Christmas week under a cloud of mourning with news of the passing of much loved Tim Crowley on December 17th. As Eoin English in The Irish Examiner reported, ‘Blarney schoolchildren have paid a moving tribute to the man who ran their local corner shop for almost 40 years. Tributes have been flowing all weekend since the death last Friday of Tim Crowley, who ran The Corner Shop in Blarney for 37 years. Mr Crowley retired during the summer and the shop has been closed for some time but when news of his death was announced, people spent the weekend recalling his many simple acts of kindness and friendship within his community, for which he was recognised in 2012 with a Blarney Person of the Month award. The children of Scoil Chroí Íosa in Blarney tied a garland of hand-drawn pictures of sweets and lollipops to the wall of his former shop. A lighted candle was also placed at the door of the former shop.”


RTE Radio One also broadcast a tribute, written by Kate Durrant, in memory of Tim. “The corner shop in our village closed a few months ago, As quietly and unassumingly as it had opened every day for the past 37 years, it was suddenly shut. No farewell, no fanfare, no fuss. Just a closed brown door where an open brown door had always been. This keeper of secrets, listener of woes, and sticking plaster of relationships with its boxes of emergency chocolates and brightly bunched flowers was now no more. That rite of passage, that had served generations of local children as they walked to the shop straight-backed with importance, coins tightly clutched in sweaty hands, and ears ringing with admonishments to ‘mind the road, hurry home and bring back the change’ was now lost. The wooden-framed notice board outside the door kept a watchful eye over an empty coal bunker that had kept the village warm for decades with bags of singles, briquettes and blocks. Blocks of wood for the cold nights, newspaper wrapped blocks of ice cream for the warm nights and chat for all those other nights in-between. The well stocked shelves were a living time capsule where generations of changing tastes collided. TK Lemonade and Tayto for the Saturday night big movie, Batchelors baked beans for the Friday evening fry and luminescent tinned green peas for Tuesday night chops. Glass bottles of Chef tomato ketchup sat side by side with the more adventurous powdered packets of McDonalds curry sauce as freshly laid eggs covered in the down of local chickens snuggled into neighbouring jars of homemade jam. Club milk and Kimberleys for the cup of tea (Barrys of course) and Flahavans oats for the breakfast, to be taken with tiny tins of Squeeze concentrated juice, promisingly packed full of juicy oranges. But above all the shop was an Aladdin’s cave of impressively large jars of sweets and jellies of every description. Yellow bellied snakes, sour strawberries, fried eggs and liquorice laces of all colours fought for attention with the cola cubes, midget gems, blackjacks and fruit salads and of course those bright yellow sherbet fountains. But for all the juicy jellies, and succulent sweets and sour sherbets my favourite was the never-ending gobstopper. It was cheek-achingly good as it slowly shrunk to fit your mouth but, despite its well-advertised longevity and super-staining colour-changing powers, like the corner shop, it couldn’t last forever either.”Tim 267733130_4947392198625065_8981583815284242871_n