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There’s a banquet today at the Lord’s table with a wee daughter of Donegal picking up the birthday bill.

And woe betide anyone, God included, who gets in her way.

Of course, for Donegal, read Dublin, Glasgow or Galway, Newtowmountkennedy or New York.

Or anywhere my Dear Old Mum, who will be surely celebrating her 96th birthday today in heaven, wined and dined us.

Handbags at Dawn

Anyone who has spent any time with the Irish of that golden generation will recognise the women who pay the bill.

Or seen the advert on Irish television where two women discuss who will fork up for the fare.

Ending, of course, in them battering each other over the head with handbags.

It has been my great fortune to have been able to break bread with the force of nature that was Teasy for nearly six decades.

And never once did she let me, or anyone else, pay.

Teasy’s table

Prize gal: At the National Piping Centre in Glasgow

Not on any of the big occasions, my 50th birthday, at the Hydro in Peebles in the Scottish Borders.

Nor any of the times when we were living in Co. Wicklow and would meet relatives in the Grand Hotel, Malahide, north of Dublin…

Nor in her homestead of Donegal in the north-west of Ireland.

And we had one of our many mini-fall-outs when we attended my NYFD cousin’s wedding in New York.

And she forced money into my hand to pay for everyone and then apologised to said cousin when they paid our way.

Our shout

On a pedestal: Me and Mum at the Chooky Welly statue

While on the one occasion I was able to treat her, in her adopted city of Glasgow, she couldn’t help herself either.

And when the good people of the Glasgow Tourist board asked for the bill at the end of our meals, her purse would come out.

A lot of head scratching followed before the next lunch or meal and the same scenario played out again… and as for the cost of the hotel.

Teasy’s wide-eyed appetite for life could only be seen to be believed and she wondered in awe that anybody would pay my way to write about their wares.

Of course, Teasy, had the final word at our last supper before we returned her to the Donegal sod last week.

A wee daughter of Donegal picking up the birthday bill still.

And on the first Mothering Sunday since we lost ours six months ago I’m singing Teasy’s praises with Rainy days and Mumsdays.

A twist on our occasional series Rainy Days and Songdays, our fusion of music and travel.

There can only be one place to start with this Rainy days and Mumsdays… where it all began in her beloved Brockagh, Co. Donegal in the north-west of Ireland.

Now all mums are unique, and we weren’t to know that other children weren’t lullabied to sleep with Irish rebel songs like Johnston’s Motor Car.

But Teasy’s cow eyes would twinkle when she would break out into ‘Down by Brockagh Corner one morning I did stray…’

Grannie’s song

Teasy’s folk: With her parents’ wedding photo

It was invariably Irish trad songs, revived by bands such as The Dubliners, The Clancy Brothers and The Furys that she would return.

With Donegal Danny and Derry Hair/Danny Boy, another close to her heart to remind her of her brother Danny, one of four who emigrated to America.

The crossover between Irish/Scottish folk and American Country music led her to rootsy Americana.

And John Denver and his anthem Annie’s Song which he wrote in celebration of his wife in ten minutes on a ski lift in Colorado.

And whose Greatest Hits album I would buy for her with the pocket money I’d saved up one Mother’s Day.

Annie’s Song would be the background music to my brother’s wedding, mine, and when it came to it, her funeral.

As Grannie’s Song for her grandchildren.

Pipes are calling

Swirl power: At World Bagpipes Championships

Today’s Mothering Sunday coincides with International Bagpipe Day.

Now, in Mum’s 70 years in Scotland where she had decamped to be with my Mum she became a big fan of the pipers practising in the fields near our house.

And I am reminded of a special two days I spent with Mum at the World Pipe Band Championships.

In Glasgow Green in her adopted Glasgow.

Where our hosts wined and dined us admirably despite Mum’s attempts to pay.

Always up for any experience we explored the National Piping Centre.

And even took in a performance from the Red Hot Chilli Pipers until her ears gave in.

But that appetite for life, a quality which made her such a voracious traveller, still burns bright.

And on today more brightly still.

When I will jig in her memory and I’ll give three cheers for Teasy McNulty and Johnston’s Motor Car.