Sir, – When my big sister Nora returned to our family home in East Donegal in the 1950s, following a period at catering college, she took on many of the tasks of preparing family meals. On one occasion, she asked my little sister, Margaret, and I if we would like to have creamed potatoes with our dinner. Incidentally, we had our dinner in the middle of the day then.
It sounded delicious; we could hardly wait.
When dinner was served, Margaret ate one fork full and then muttered indignantly, “Shur that’s just poundies.” – Yours, etc,
MICHAEL BOURKE,
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