it was here that we ate rights crispy cake and intently watched doctor who, each of us having a toy dalekte. it was a war that seemed to roll quite naturally off shane's tongue. here we ran it resplendent in batman and robin suits, no prizes for guessing who was batman. here, too, both our house and there's, we enjoyed many sing songs and parties with our cousins, here today. and where we lived when shane at 13 won the daily mirror literary prize. it was also here that when jimi mirror literary prize. it was also here that whenjimi hendrix died, shane spent the entire day lying on his bed in silence faced to the wall. the seas were firmly planted, his love of literature and love of music. but shane's veins ran with irish blood, and it was in tipperary, our mother's childhood home, that shane reunited with the land he loved, found his spiritual home. here in a small cottage heaving with 12 or more great aunts and uncles, but somehow never feeling cramped, he listened to their stories, saying with them songs, sat by the fire is on cl and swaying the concertina. it was a holy place that thro