The bundle of prompts sat on the table in the middle of the room at the writing group. Strange how the most random things can set off the thought process.

The item that drew my attention was a ball of string. We don't really use it much these days but are all familiar with it. Whenever I see a ball it always reminds me of my Dad. I think if he had been born in different circumstances he may have been an inventor of sorts. He was certainly very inventive. He came up with a solution for most things however unorthodox they may have seemed.

He kept every piece of loose twine, rubber bands, nails, screws and what not. He kept most of them in a blue metal toolbox under the bed in the back bedroom. Needless to say this used to drive my Mam mad. We used to call it his Black and Decker, though I don't remember him ever having a power tool of any description. When he was younger he had 'acquired' a rubber advertising sign used by Kodak and went onto repair punctures on his pushbike for quite a while.

I remember as a child making a crib with him every Christmas. He would come home with just the right size cardboard box. It would then be covered in black crepe paper. There would be straw on the floor and cotton wool to act as snow on the roof. Atop that there would be some ivy taken from the back lane. The pièce de résistance was when he would take a knife and carefully cut a star shape at the back. A bicycle lamp was placed behind it and there it was – The Star of Bethleham.

Like for everyone back then Television was black and white for years. Colour TV arrived when I was about twelve but it was several years before we got one. One time he brought home sheets of coloured perspex from work and selloptaped them to the television. So we had colour TV of a kind.

I always think of him a lot on Good Friday. Obviously the pubs didn't open so the usual Friday pint in Murphys wasn't an option. It was usually a day for painting or wallpapering and involved a lot of huffing and puffing. He wasn't one to swear but I'm sure there were some choice words going on under his breath.

He always wore a suit jacket, even if we were away in the heat. In the lapel of his jacket he kept a couple of straight pins. These had several uses. They could act as a toothpick, as an implement to take periwinkles from their shells when he was on the rocks in Skerries and for bursting any balloon that came into his sight. Poor Aunt Lil used to always have balloons on her Christmas tree. We would go there on Stephen's Day for tea and by the time we would be going home there wouldn't be a balloon left. I don't know what the reason for that was.

Martin is very like him when it comes to finding creative if unorthodox solutions to various DIY issues. In fact Eoin calls him MacGyver. He too has a vast collection of nuts and bolts etc. I am never allowed throw away any random nail I'd find around the house. “You'd never know when I might be looking for one of those” I'd be told. Unlike my Dad he has a shed that houses quite the collection of DIY gadgets and gardening tools. Mostly thanks to Lidl and Aldi.

My Dad never had a shed or a lawnmower. The small patch of grass in the back yard was kept trimmed with a garden shears. Maybe it was just as well. I don't think my Mam could have coped.

And now it seems that Eoin is the same. Another one full of inventive solutions. When I watch them do something just like Daddy would have, I think to myself – Christy Mahony will never be dead.