Louise Newton Keogh

So that was a big deal.

But these were the dodgiest rosary beads you've ever seen.

If I can explain, pink little beads of plastic held together by flimsy white string and on the end was a silver cross.

Honestly, if you paid $2 for them, you'd be ripped off.

But in my mind, they were the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life.

And for me, this was the key to the universe because I thought, ha-ha, I've got the rosary beads, now I know what to do.

So I became a blesser.

And I didn't actually know what blessing, I didn't really know what I was doing.

So my way of blessing people would be to touch them with the rosary beads and say, you are blessed.

And so what I would do every night before I went to bed, before I set my times table, I would go in house touching my family, my mum, my dad, my brother, my sisters, saying, you are blessed.

And then I moved on to my cats, my dog.

Then I moved on to my toys.

Then I moved on to my times table and so on.

And I did this every single night.

Now, there were some interesting reactions at home.

Dad, who the only thing he loved more than beer was the Catholic Church,

prayed to Jesus and thought finally he had one.

And I was planning my trip into the convent when I was 15.

Mum was a bit bemused, but she thought, oh, well, if it makes me happy and it doesn't seem to be bothering anyone, what the heck?

My brother Patrick, who was a bit older and a bit further along the Enlightenment journey, he thought it was hysterical.