Seeing the world through different eyes

The last month has been busy (when has it not) with medical appointments, dealing with lingering storm damage and all the daily tasks that lead to a comfortable life. It still feels a bit strange and new sometimes though we are settling in to things more at last. We are very aware that Ireland is truly a different country, not just “England with a funny accent” and often when we drive around it is if we are seeing the world through different eyes. Familiarity may not necessarily breed contempt but it doesn’t always breed attention. Looking from the outside, many things Irish people may not notice are objects of interest to us still.

One of the really nice things about Ireland was the absence of litter, something we noticed when we first arrived. There was – probably still is – a big litter problem in the UK. I once got into a shouting match with a visitor who was parked up on the promenade to eat his supper. As I walked past with the dogs he opened the car window and shoved the wrappings, plastic fork and remaining chips out onto the road. Struggling to keep the dogs from gobbling the batter I picked up the rubbish and pushed it back inside. He was not happy. I had two Tibetan Terriers with me, medium to large dogs, so he hesitated and shouted at me without getting out of the car. The dogs did much of the shouting back and he drove off, calling me several rather rude names. I’m still proud of that.

Ireland has a lot less litter, though it is beginning to get worse. Around our home we are surrounded by farm land and virtually all the litter and debris comes from farming. We are still relatively unfamiliar with the landscape and looking with our different eyes we see how messy things are starting to get. The worst type of litter is plastic. This can be abandoned feed or fertilizer sacks that blow across the fields and often end up on our property. The road up to the top field and hay storage is narrow and now covered in thick mud again. The wagons carrying the bales often catch on the sides leaving torn ribbons of dirty black plastic behind. On several occasions they have left a whole bale behind on the road, bursting and scattering across the area. We clear up around our margins regularly even though we still have no bin collection. Still, the straw can come in handy.

I’ve been writing again and a new book is now almost 75% finished. I’ve set it in Ireland for the first time and so have done some heavy research. A lot of it is based on things we see travelling around, looking with our different eyes. Why, we wondered, are almost all the cottage doors painted red? Even the door to the Majestic is red, like most sheds. Well there are a lot of reasons, some more fanciful than others. It is said the colour keeps away the fairies who are a more malevolent lot than those in the UK. More Brothers Grimm than Hans Christian Anderson I think. One story is that Queen Victoria once ordered all doors to be painted black. In a suitably defiant mood the Irish painted them all red instead. I like that idea though it is hard to know what might be the truth.


Another thing we have noticed is the total lack of abandoned structures from the last war. England in particular is littered with old fortifications and Pill Boxes. In Ireland there are several thousand stone Tower Houses, much older than the WWII fortifications. Some were part of larger castles, some stood alone. Generally they had one room on each floor and could be defended by a small garrison – or determined household. Most of them are crumbling away and the stones have been taken to build and repair other structures. They are now mapped and labelled preserved buildings which offers some protection but actually makes any restoration very difficult and expensive. Surrounding by prohibitive planning rules (you can’t even paint the inside walls without a report) some lovely buildings are left to rot. We often point out derelict or abandoned houses and cottages (“There’s a fixer-upper”) as we roll down the road but a lot of them are “preserved” and no one will touch them. A perfect example is the lovely Kyle Park National Agricultural School. Built in 1843, it operated until 1875 when staff shortages forced its closure. Now it sits, unloved and forlorn, with such potential but a dismal future.

Another thing we noticed is the lack of war memorials, a feature so prevalent in Britain. There are memorials but they are overwhelmingly for incidents and ambushes during the fight for independence. In the UK the memorials stand in villages and towns far from the graves of the lost soldiers. In Ireland they tend to be placed at the site of the incident. They don’t have as many names as most UK memorials but many do list those killed on both sides, with equal respect. One fine example is the Modreeny monument, set at the side of the road near Cloughjordan, which was erected by the local historical society.

As we continue to look around our new home we still find new things to admire and occasionally puzzle over. When we first moved in to our permanent home the lovely Patrick from the cottages at Puckane came for a visit. We walked through the wood (then totally overgrown) and pointed out the tiny frogs and newts travelling through the grass and some of the insects. He shook his head and smiled saying “Who would have thought two ladies from across the water could show me new things here in Ireland”. That’s the power of different eyes and long may it last.

For those wondering about the MRI results, I’ve read the report and deciphered some of the medical terms. It doesn’t look brilliant to be honest but I’m hoping to see my doctor this week and we will plan a way forward. I promise to keep you posted.

Thank you for reading and I hope to see you again in two weeks.

Jennie.

by on March 2, 2025  •  Permalink
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Posted by Jennie Finch on March 2, 2025

https://www.jenniefinch.me.uk/seeing-the-world-through-different-eyes/

Some bright spots on a dirty day

Well, it’s February and today is what the Irish call a dirty day. After the snow and the awful storms we are back to rain. Not just any old rain either. This is slow but relentless, soaking into everything and seeping through the smallest of gaps. We first heard the expression “a dirty day” whilst staying in the cottages soon after our arrival and it sums up exactly how the day feels. Everything seems covered in mud, paths and roads are slippery and the damp and cold creep into the house and wrap themselves lovingly around you. It can be rather depressing especially when faced with an almost empty log box. Going out to collect the wood in February is always an exercise in necessity over reluctance. It is doubly so on a dirty day.

The stove in the snug is a daily bright spot through the winter. Fuelled by the dead ash trees from the wood and an excess of kindling following the storms even the sight of the fire seems to warm the house. We have relied on it for comfort and warmth through the worst weather and even heated soup on the top during the longer power cuts. Now however it needs some TLC from us. It is quite old and we have searched in vain for the manufacturers as it is in need of some spare parts and a good service. The firebricks are cracked and tend to topple out despite the application of special fire cement and the centre of the grate is buckled. It has certainly seen better days.

Last week we did one of our longer run around trips, visiting two supermarkets, the vet, a hardware store, the camping shop and then out into the countryside to visit Ryan’s Stoves. Here we met a lovely, helpful and knowledgeable woman called Madeleine who offered us some hope for our old Horseflame fire. Although the manufacturer’s parts are rarer than hen’s teeth many other stoves are made to the same specifications. We hurried home and I spent a busy morning photographing and measuring inside and out of the fire (which was off and cleaned out of course). We sent the results off and are crossing our fingers she can help. Otherwise we are probably looking at a new model – expensive but an essential bright spot in our lives.

After such a busy day we had a nice dinner and opened a bottle of Cava as it was exactly four years since we moved in to this house. So much has changed since that day, inside and out. It has its problems of course but we are very settled here, the dogs love it and we have room and a warm welcome for our friends who venture across the sea and our local friends who are always welcome for tea and a chat. There were many good memories and bright spots to recall and celebrate and even the weather (it was another dirty day) didn’t matter.

Although it is still February – how does the shortest month last so long? – there are signs of spring already around us. Winter brings some fabulous colour, especially at dawn and at sunset when the evening light is golden and lights up the willows in the wood. The magnolia tree is the first to show signs of new growth with a sudden spurt of soft white buds emerging and spreading. We are choosing a number of our trees to remember some of our friends and relatives now passed away and the magnolia tree is for Jacqui’s mother. After the storms we have been watching, wondering how many of our little trees would survive such an onslaught. Thanks to the sterling work by Donal and some extra watering and care from us it looks as if all of them have made it through that crucial first year. Now with help from Andy we can nurture them and add a few more to both the orchard and the wood.

I’ve had my MRI scan pictures from the unit though the report that actually explains them won’t be in for a while yet. There’s a continuous series of 120 images that show the whole shoulder, a sort of medical short film. Images of the movie “Fantastic Voyage” flitted through my mind as I ran it back and forth. It is a very strange thing, to “travel” through your own body. I have to stop myself worrying over some of the pictures. Is there supposed to be a hole in the white layer? Are the tiny white lines on the bone serious or normal? I’m waiting to see my doctor who will have a copy of the report next week and trying to rest the shoulder as much as possible. I’ll let you know what he says next time.

One of the bright spots about living here is the much wider range of goods in the supermarkets. Small local producers of items like cheese, meat and cakes all feature in all the big shops. They may be there one week and gone the next but you know they’ll reappear in a few days. This really helps the local economy and helps build a stronger sense of community as well as offering the chance to try new and often delicious choices.

The same goes for the range of wines. There are fewer French wines, unlike in the UK, but all the supermarkets have offerings from the wider EU as well as the newer producers. We’ve been most impressed with the wines from Chile and New Zealand and have become much more adventurous. Sometimes I’m swayed by a label – Donkey wine anyone? Felon 19? – as in this wine from Portugal. Who could resist the Sardine Submarine! Well, not me obviously. And the wine was good too, another bright spot on a dirty day.

Thank you for reading, keep safe and wrap up warm. I hear February may have a few surprises for us still to come.

Jennie.

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by on February 16, 2025  •  Permalink
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Posted by Jennie Finch on February 16, 2025

https://www.jenniefinch.me.uk/some-bright-spots-on-a-dirty-day/

First the cows, then the storms – welcome to January

Well, January has been a very exciting month. First we had the cows, then we had another medical interlude, and then the storms. Not surprisingly we are feeling rather tired now. The cows were rounded up and most of them settled in the field opposite where they had some shelter. We rang Bill, the wonderful fence man, and just 48 hours later he turned up and put in a new heavy duty fence to secure the orchard. He also reset the gateposts so it closes properly now.

We are very glad he did as later in the week we were driving up the hill on our way home and encountered most of the herd on the road again. This time they were wandering down towards our house, in and out of the fields. Several got separated behind the stone wall and we watched as they scrambled and jumped over the barrier. I had no idea cows could jump that high! We were a bit anxious in case one didn’t make it and injured itself. All finally did move safely on thank goodness.

We had two medical appointments this last two weeks. One was local, a routine appointment with one of the heart doctors. These hospital appointments are very curate’s egg-like – sometimes good, often not. This one was not. It was yet another different doctor who basically had a very limited amount of time and a checklist to run through. After we managed a small amount of time attempting to address issues that concerned us he made it very clear he didn’t feel the need to listen. He also implied he didn’t need to do any reading or research on anything new as it took too long to become practice anyway. We did manage to leave without being threatened by security however so it wasn’t all bad.

It was at the end of the week when the storms hit. Storm Eowyn, close behind storm Darragh that brought freezing temperatures and snow as well as high winds. There was some fuss over Darragh but we were not warned to how strong Eowyn might be until it was almost too late. Fortunately we were already on high alert and went around filling water vessels, boiling water for flasks, sorting some battery lights and leaving the camping stove out just in case. Jacqui even made a rich minestrone soup we could reheat. Then Eowyn hit in the middle of the night and everything went off. In common with 1 million people across Ireland we had no power, no heat, no telephone or wifi and no water. The solar panels did keep the pump working for some hours but then the sunlight ran out.

For almost 40 hours we kept the wood stove on, heated water on the camping stove and lived quietly on bread, tea, fruit and the lovely soup. The worst part was the darkness for 65% of the day, coupled with the slow but relentless howling of the wind. We were out of power for our tablets and phones by the end as even the power banks were drained. We thought we had been ready but this was a salutary lesson. We’ve now got extra batteries, four more camping lanterns on the way and a wind-up phone charger that is also a radio. We will add extra gas canisters too when they become available. As I write there are still 47,000 customers without power, many without water too.

In some ways we were lucky. Although we are quite remote we were reconnected relatively rapidly. We had some battery light and could heat water and cook simple meals, having bought the camping stove after the big storm in 2020. We have a large water butt so could fill containers for the loo. The biggest benefit was the wood burner in the snug. It was much darker in there than the other rooms but the stove made it a safe and warm place. One councillor reporting after the storm made the point that many people now live in new build all-electric homes. None of them have a fireplace or even a chimney, meaning they had no heating at all for the duration.

Eowyn set a new wind speed record for gusts of 183 km/hr. It is being compared to the infamous “Night of the Big Wind” of January 1839, an event still spoken of and written about. Eowyn did less damage to buildings, probably as they are generally much better constructed and maintained now. It did however wreak havoc across the country with thousands of trees lost and substantial damage to some areas. Roads are still littered with broken branches, hedges have been uprooted, fragments of garden debris are scattered across the countryside and some magnificent and venerable trees have been uprooted.

One such loss is in the garden of some friends. An ancient Ash tree, planted in 1819 when the house was first built, was blown down. It towers over the pasture, lying on its side next to the crater made when it fell. It is hard to imagine the force needed to move something that heavy and strong. We went around checking our wood, counting the new trees and inspecting the old ones.

Apart from some branches and some hedging we escaped unscathed, including the orchard that has now survived the cows and two mighty storms. All credit to Fergus, our tree man who inspects and makes the wood safe every year and Donal who did such an excellent job planting and securing our fragile saplings. And a special thank you to our friends for letting me share their magnificent, lost tree.

We had scarcely recovered from all that excitement when we were off to Limerick once more. This time it was for Jacqui’s eye appointment. She had made the list, finally, and we set off for an unpleasant but vital procedure. I must say I am seriously impressed by the care they take over eye injections. Three lots of anaesthetic and antibiotic before, a fetching hair net with a full body blue smock during and more antibiotic drops for three days afterwards. They are certainly not taking any chances and it is reassuring to see the care they offer and Jacqui says the shade of blue got her thunbs up. Going to Limerick is a pain but for this service it is worth it.

Well, that’s all for this episode. I hope the next few weeks are a bit more restful for us, and for you all. We are being threatened with a “snow beast” – arctic air and blizzards approaching apparently. Here’s hoping it misses us all and we can begin to drift into spring. The bulbs seem to think it’s already on its way judging by the snowdrops, daffodils and one tiny crocus.

Thank you for reading, stay warm and safe and I hope to see you again soon.

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by on February 3, 2025  •  Permalink
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Posted by Jennie Finch on February 3, 2025

https://www.jenniefinch.me.uk/first-the-cows-then-the-storms-welcome-to-january/

Surviving the zombie cow apocalypse and other oddities

I’m sorry this episode is a day late but I’ve had rather an interesting 24 hours. As most of you know we live deep in rural Ireland and that means we are surrounded by fields. This being Ireland thas also means we are surrounded by cows. Lots of cows. Last night not long after midnight Charlie, our youngest dog, started barking. It was a proper alarm bark, not just ‘Oh, there’s a car on the road’ sort of bark. A quick glance outside and we realised we had about eight heifers milling around our front drive.

I ventured out to see what had happened and was surprised to see all the gates were closed and latched. Grabbing a large and reassuringly heavy tree branch I decided to check in the orchard though I couldn’t see how they had got in, down the steps and past the shed in the dark. Well, they had. My trusty head torch gave out half way up the steps and I stumbled along in the dark. As I reached the gate another cow loomed out of the lane and began to scramble over what was left of a part of our wall. Shouting and waving the branch persuaded it to make off along the road, fortunately.

I know cows can be tricky and even a heifer is as tall as I am so I followed the cow down the road at a safe distance and opened the main gates from outside. The cows immediately made a dash for freedom and I beat a hasty retreat through the smaller gate and locked them out from the inside. We did try to contact the farmer but only managed to reach his voice mail. Shaken but relieved, it took us a while to settle down again.

The next morning I looked at our trail cameras and one of them had captured the escapees in the back field pressed up against our fence. Taken at 12.45 am, they look very disturbing with glowing eyes as they loom up against the fence. Truly zombie cows! Inspecting our orchard and drive we found a lot of hoof prints, some charming cowpats and the front wall much reduced in size. As we mused on how to secure the orchard on a Sunday there was another flurry of alarmed barking. Yes, they were out once more, this time several dozen at the front and ten or so at the back.

The farmer came out again and herded them back to the field, finally identifying a hole in the hedge they presumably used to escape. So, despite the creepy picture not so much zombie cows as Houdini cows at midnight.
I am waiting for our fence man to call me back as the gate in also now out of kilter and we need to secure the land urgently.

Apart from that bit of excitement we’ve had a fairly restful couple of weeks. The snow melted away and it got much milder very fast. This was good for some work around the gardens and Andy came last week and did a wonderful job clearing the overgrown front beds. I’d forgotten we had a path around there! Well, we have one again. We also did our regular log collections and I ventured around the wood path to see how it was looking.

Much to my surprise there was a large white bag lodged over the old log that has been home for various animals over the past few years. This was about 10 metres back from the path and behind the intentionally wild and overgrown section. Foolishly I decided to investigate, clipping brambles and struggling through heavy growth. I finally reached a large seed bag wedged in the log and dragged it back up the wood path. The whole thing took almost half an hour and I know now it was a mistake. My already weak shoulders are now very sore again so it’s back to the basic exercises for me.

We are forecast more snow later this week but the unseasonable warmth has accelerated some of the spring plants. There are tiny flowering violas in one pot, the daffodils are already appearing in places and primrose leaves are sprouting in the wood and garden. If we start to get flies again I will know the seasons are out of kilter!

Some evenings we watch some programmes from RTE, the Irish equivalent of the BBC. Last week there was a report on “Ear to the Ground” about a charity called “Free Trees Ireland”. Several times a year groups and individuals can apply for bundles of mixed saplings, all native trees. They donated 54,000 trees last time, an amazing achievement. We are looking into the scheme but I need to establish whether the numbers (5 minimum, 30 maximum) relate to bundles or individual trees. We have some clearer space and can clear more but I’m not sure we could cope with 50 trees in one go!

Well, that’s all for the start of the year from me. We are hoping for no more snow – or zombie cows. Thank you for reading. Your support means a great deal.

Stay warm, take care and I hope to see you again soon.

Jennie.

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by on January 20, 2025  •  Permalink
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Posted by Jennie Finch on January 20, 2025

https://www.jenniefinch.me.uk/surviving-the-zombie-cow-apocalypse-and-other-oddities/

Rounding up the year in 1,000 words

It may be an arbitrary date, dividing one year from another, but the New Year is always a good time to remember and reflect. Despite this supposedly being a quiet time of life this last year has been very busy and a bit of a rollercoaster. Rounding up 2024 in 1,000 words is a rather daunting task but here goes anyway. Like every year there has been good and bad, old and new. We have made some new friends and got to know some others a lot better. As you may know from previous episodes, some of these friends helped to make our 40th anniversary a memorable occasion.

Although we remain stoically antisocial we have got out a bit more, beginning with the trip to Cork in February. I had a visit to Dublin in the early summer where I met up with my old friend Jon “Ginge” Moore for the first time in almost 30 years and had a chance to visit the wonderful EPIC museum. I also had a stall at the local farm, art and agricultural show where I met some new readers and a number of hopeful writers.

We’ve had some visitors too, repeat visits so we must be doing something right. Helen and Adrian and Noel stayed in the spring and summer and my niece Polly braved the storms just before Christmas. Christmas itself was a quiet time, most welcome as we settled down in our “snug” and just pleased ourselves. We had a tree though I didn’t get the outside lights done, due to a mixture of high winds in indolence. I can’t resist modeling my new coat for you all. Thank you Jacqui!

A lot of our efforts have gone into establishing and maintaining the wood and new orchard. We are hugely indebted to Fergus, Donal and Andy for all their help here. Bill built a large and very fine lean-to just inside the wood and now collecting and drying our logs is many times easier. No more fighting with a huge pile of chopped wood and hauling tarpaulins around. Quality of Life product for sure.

All of these projects are ongoing and will take our time and attention this next year. We hope to clear more of the wood, removing the remaining dead ash saplings. Hopefully we can add a few more trees to our new mini arboretum and up in the orchard we have pla. ns for a few more fruit trees. We also hope to actually harvest some of the raspberries ourselves this year. Last year the birds stripped the lot in one day. I’ve been clearing out and have a pile of old CDs, mainly unusable computer disks. We’re making a frame to go over the raspberries to hang them out as bird scarers. We won’t net the bushes as birds can get trapped and die in the nets.

The wildlife continues to both share and invade our house. We have an on-going battle with the acrobatic rat that will strip our bird food from the main feeder. He still tries to get to the hanging containers though I think has failed so far. In the spring we woke to find baby bats stuck in our shower – how the hell they got in we don’t know. We rescued them in a soft cloth and put them safely under cover until dusk when they flew away. The mice crept in to the boiler cupboard last winter and it took a month of traps and the occasional release to get them out. Well, they are back again. At least Mabel the feral/farm cat gets the occasional tasty (and poison free) snack.

Our biggest invasion was a wasp nest in the end roof. This appeared in early autumn and so we waited for them to die off, to no avail. In the end it took three visits from Rentokill to get them out and I still find the occasional large but very drowsy wasp in the kitchen. The hole they made in the wall will need to be filled before spring, as will another inviting gap in the top gable.

At the end of 2023 I had two falls, one from a ladder and the second on some ice. This caused problems with both my shoulders and I had some helpful physio for the worst one. Sadly the other has now deteriorated so I’m looking at more treatment in the new year. Apart from this we’ve been fairly healthy if a bit more tired than usual. This is despite the interventions of the utterly useless consultants who did little but make Jacqui much worse for a lot of the year. They don’t want to see us and we certainly don’t want to see them so we are working on restoring her health and mobility ourselves. It seems to be working, slowly but we will get there. I guess age is finally catching up with us. Why is that always a surprise?

Ireland remains increasingly wet and once more the summer was something of a disappointment. When the weather is fine however it can be stunningly beautiful. It rarely snows here though it is snowing as I write, just to prove me wrong. The sky two days ago was a bright, hard blue with an unnusual number of vapour trails. Then a frost struck yesterday and – hey, presto, snow today.

It’s only the third time we’ve had snow in the four years we’ve been here and it causes great excitement amongst local children. Despite this it seems a rather benevolent type of snow as opposed to the UK snow we had in the north east. That came sideways up the street driven by the north wind and it only stopped when it hit a wall.

It’s getting chilly in my room now so I will stop and creep down into the warmth of the snug. There was a lot more going on but I’m up to my 1,000 words so will end my attempt at rounding up here. If you want to know more or need a quick catch-up you can click on the links to the right of the main web page and read back as far as our move!

Wishing you all a very good New Year, thank you for reading and know I appreciate all the comments and support very much.

Jennie.

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by on January 5, 2025  •  Permalink
Posted in A big Adventure, Friends and visitors, Remembering travels
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Posted by Jennie Finch on January 5, 2025

https://www.jenniefinch.me.uk/rounding-up-the-year-in-1000-words/

Easing into Christmas as the solstice arrives

Well, it has been a rather frantic month here in sleepy, rural Tipperary. The autumn slipped by quietly, enlivened only by the mowing of the ever-rampant grass and some gathering of unexpected but most enjoyable apples from the new orchard. We entertained the idea we might potter along, easing into Christmas in a calm and restful way. Yeah, right. As we wanted to mark our 40th anniversary we planned the meal for our friends and a wonderful evening it was. Please see the previous entry for details – but it took us quite an effort to organize ourselves, having become unused to keeping to a timetable!

We wanted things to be perfect, if possible, so there was a lot of cleaning and polishing. Jacqui’s meal was a triumph but nothing that good is achieved without a great deal of work. We ended the month exhausted, taking a number of days to just stop and rest. And eat all the delicious leftovers of course. I even had Southern Comfort “tipsy” trifle for breakfast one day. A day when I was not driving, of course.

Then winter descended with a bang. Two fierce storms swept over with exceptionally high winds and torrential rain. We were fortunate there was no serious damage apart from a mass of branches from one of the old poplar trees. These broke off and landed across the path to the pond at the end of the wood. This is a tree marked for felling by our tree surgeon, Fergus, and we are glad most of it withstood the gales. Now we will go down and remove the debris after Christmas, drying it out and chopping it up for kindling.

We had a couple more visitors just afterwards. Julie, our friend who used to live in the cottage next door, was over from England. The dogs were very happy to see her and we had a nice talk, reminiscing on her time here. Then my niece, Polly, arrived on a long weekend. She flew into Shannon and we picked her up from the bus station in Limerick. This did nothing for my aversion of the town. The roads in were narrow and poorly signposted, the bus station was actually clagged on to the train station and parking was a nightmare. Add the fact the sun was shining in our eyes the whole way and you have a severe headache in the making.

Despite this we found one another in the station and a lovely weekend ensued. Realizing she needed some rest and comfort our youngest dog, Charlie, followed her around. He cuddled up next to her at every chance and slipped into her room to hold paws as she napped. He’s a natural therapy dog, so intuitive and a most calming presence. We visited the little Christmas market in the town one day and made a gingerbread house another. Jacqui baked the cakes, two loaves, and I showed Polly how to cut it into shape, ice the roof and add windows and doors.

I still have the little figures my mother used and it looked very festive. Some bits we pinned on with cocktail sticks to keep them in place until the icing set. Polly decided it looked as if Vikings were attacking it, a novel interpretation of the poor miniature band. As royal icing takes a lot of stirring I used Jacqui’s big mixer, to great effect. All went well until I tried to get the whisk out and turned it on with the cover open. Icing flew everywhere, including over me. We cleaned up but I’ve been finding odd splashes all over the kitchen for the last week. I suspect my mother would have laughed at the whole performance.

Jacqui has been quietly making Christmas puddings using the secret Mavis Finch recipe and we’ve been sampling them. They are, of course, excellent. She’s also baked the Christmas cake though we’re not allowed to sample that yet. As the pudding recipe was used by my grandmother and passed down to us we remember our families well at this time of year.

After several days recovering from all the driving to Shannon we were back on the road, off to bl#*dy Limerick again, this time for an eye appointment at the regional hospital. Each of these trips took four to five hours and the dogs were decidedly put out, especially as we decided to push on the next day and do all the shopping and errands in town the next day. After four shops in town, four stops to deliver “thank you” biscuits to the exceptionally helpful businesses and two supermarkets we are well and truly exhausted. But – we are finally home and are easing into Christmas at last.

It’s been a bit of a rollercoaster year and I’ll do an annual catch-up of the highlights in a couple of weeks. May I take this opportunity to wish you all a very Happy Christmas and send all good wishes for the New Year.

Thank you for reading and for your support this year. It means a great deal and I hope you will stay with me for 2025.

Now I must go out and try to get the lights up along the front hedge.

Jennie.

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by on December 22, 2024  •  Permalink
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Posted by Jennie Finch on December 22, 2024

https://www.jenniefinch.me.uk/easing-into-christmas-as-the-solstice-arrives/

Forty Years on and a glance back in time

Forgive me if this episode is a bit late and a bit shorter than usual but we were up late and carousing on Saturday night. Sunday was our anniversary, forty years on from when Jacqui and I moved in together. It was not possible to have a formal ceremony then but we have always marked our union from December 1st, 1984. Saturday night we had a small celebration dinner with new friends in Ireland, another milestone for us as we continue to build our life here. It was a rather lovely evening with conversation around the table, some wine and prosecco and a fabulous buffet prepared by Jacqui. A good time was had by everyone, including the dogs, who behaved impeccably despite the multiple temptations around the room. We feel so lucky to have friends who will travel down dark country roads in miserable weather to help us remember and celebrate.

Whilst doing a bit of clearing up afterwards we remembered a night ten years ago, our thirtieth anniversary. We were still in Saltburn and our neighbours Mark and Sarah ran an occasional supper club. They put on a fabulous meal for us and we invited family and friends. It was dubbed the “155 year celebration” as our birthdays added up to 125, making 155 with the anniversary included. That was another memorable evening and Sarah even made a special surprise anniversary cake. Based on coconut and pineapple, I was a little dubious at first but it was one of the best cakes I’ve ever tasted, and beautifully decorated too.

The last forty years have been interesting, to say the least. We’ve lived in three different houses, had a number of different jobs and made many journeys across Europe, sometimes with friends or family but often just us. For over thirty years we enjoyed the freedom to travel across the continent by car, train and ferry. Neither of us like planes but the slower journeys were often as important as the time spent at our destination.

We drove to Greece – much to the horror of our parents -, took ferries down the Adriatic, drove to Verona to see the opera and traveled on Swiss trains through breathtaking mountains. We also encountered forest fires, thunderstorms, a pistol-wielding teenager in France and even a couple of earthquakes. A lot of adventures to look back over, forty years on. The saying goes “nostalgia’s not what it used to be” but hey – we’ve got the photographs.

One of the things we miss is that easy access to the continent, and not just because of the cheap wine by the box load or the excellent food. We were very fortunate to be able to roam freely for so long. Looking back, forty years on from our first day-trip to France (with bicycles!), there is a sense of sadness, for us and for all the young people who can’t do the same.

This was before the combined disasters of Brexit and Covid, of course. Together they changed our world, forcing us onto a new path. Now, from our home in Ireland, we know we are fortunate. We are able to work together to make a different life here and we are building something new and valuable for one another. Forty years on and still together, I think that’s a blessing indeed.

We are coming round to Christmas again (where does the time go?) and we are all blessed – we have homes, food, friends and safety. I try to send a little gift out this time of year to maybe help those who are not so lucky. This year I’m not making a calendar. Instead I have the wonderful “Animals in Paint and Poetry” calendar by Sheila Graber, an old friend and supremely talented artist. She has donated a large number of original drawings and paintings to charity over the years, runs regular fundraisers and all the proceeds go to her three charities. Have a look and maybe get one too.
https://www.facebook.com/SheilaGraberUK

It is said it takes a village to raise a child and our good friend Noel O’Reilly does just that. He began a small charity in Kenya, Lighthouse Children’s Home and this supports a family with a single mother, several disabled children, an amazing young girl and several recent arrivals, children who were orphaned and abandoned to fend for themselves. With support from a diverse group of individuals across several countries they have built a safe home, can grow their own food and all the young people are now in education and have the medication they need. You can read about this uplifting project here:
https://www.lighthousechildrenshome.co.uk/who-we-are

Finally, when shopping this month there will be bins for the food banks in the supermarkets. This is a sad time of year for many families and just something that costs a pound or a Euro can make a difference.

And now I must go and help finish the clearing up.

Thank you for reading.

Jennie.

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by on December 2, 2024  •  Permalink
Posted in A big Adventure, Remembering travels
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Posted by Jennie Finch on December 2, 2024

https://www.jenniefinch.me.uk/forty-years-on-and-a-glance-back-in-time/

Marching towards winter with some help from our friends

Met Eireann, the Irish weather centre, is warning of “an arctic front” in the next few days. This will be centred on the north and west but may move south too. Now, we are somewhat ambiguous here as we are in the midlands, more south than north and both west and east by different reckoning. Either way it is getting colder so we are marching towards winter, with help. After the flurry of maintenance last month we are looking to consolidate the outside work. Winter brings cold and the inevitable rain but it does stop the damn undergrowth from growing which is a major plus!

Andy came back last week, finished the orchard work and moved on to the wood. In there we cannot use the mower as the ground is still very rough and there are hundreds – literally hundreds – of stones. He used the new brush cutter and leveled all the weeds and undergrowth, trimming carefully around our new trees. We have a lot of bark from the logs that we gathered into bags over the year and this is now spread around the tree bases providing warmth, protection and feeding the soil in the winter. He has also cut back a bit further, clearing the way to the dead ash saplings. Hopefully there will be some clear weather this winter so we can remove them and open up a bit more of the wood ready for planting in winter 25/26.

We have to take some trees out as they are diseased, especially the ash, storm damaged, especially the shallow-rooted poplars, or have self-seeded and are too close to thrive, mainly sycamore. We are aware the wood is not just for us however. It is home to a variety of life and has its own eco system. The aim is to balance the need to replant and grow a healthy, hopefully attractive, wood with providing shelter and habitat for our co-residents so are progressing slowly and carefully.

About a third of the land is – and will remain – untouched. About half will be the wood, surrounded by the newly cut path. This will be controlled by careful mowing and weeding, but not anything resembling a lawn. Rustic field is what we are aiming for. The rest will be half wild with some cutting of brambles, thistles and the dreaded bindweed. That’s the plan anyway. We couldn’t manage it without the help of people like Andy, Fergus our tree surgeon and Donal whose amazing planting skills have transformed the wood and the new orchard this year. Fergus came back with Martin and they chopped and stacked the wood cut last winter in the lean-to so now we are well set up for winter. He did a walk around and there are a couple of trees that are leaning a bit too far so he will be back in a month or so.

Overall it has been a bit of a long march to winter, this last month. The wasps are finally gone – well, 99% of them. We had to give in and call Rentokill and they did two separate treatments. I’m working on the remaining 1% using a bottle trap. Put a sweet fizzy drink in an empty water bottle, lay it on its side near the nest and the wasps fly in and drown, or at least can’t get out again. This was the theory and it worked wonders last year with coca-cola. This year I gladly sacrificed can of “strawberry cider” we got as an experiment. Even the wasps won’t touch it. It’s called “Sotma” which my dyslexic brain misread as “Stoma”. I think my name is closer to the truth.

The removal of the wasps cleared the way for the cable installation and we have new wifi and a landline at last. This involves a lot of setting up and reprogramming our different devices but we’re plodding though that now. We are very happy with the improvements but are all looking forward to a few quiet days, especially the dogs. They have been bred as watch dogs for thousands of years and the flow of different people has been hard for them – and for us as their bark is both loud and continuous!

There are still things to do. In a house like this there always will be but we are now slowing down a bit and pacing ourselves. There was an added complication as the car needed some work last week and suddenly developed a different fault on the drive home. The garage, Slatterys in Puckane, were marvelous, collecting the car early the next morning and getting it back before breakfast the following day. All our planning for shopping and banking went out of the window however with extra workmen and no transport for a few days.

We realized how vulnerable we are to a breakdown out here so are mulling over possible solutions. A second car could be too expensive, both to buy and run. We have the mopeds but neither of us can drive them at present. Jacqui mooted the idea of a quad bike – could be fun but I’m not sure about the legal position on public roads. And this could also be quite pricey. There is no public transport alas and very few taxis in the area since Covid. We shall have to think it over during the winter. We are now considering a motorcycle and sidecar.

Well, with all these goings on we have had little time for other pursuits. Jacqui is starting to look at her painting again which is wonderful – looking at it and the art itself. I’ve been thinking about the new book and will settle to it soon. Bring on winter and the snow – we are ready!

Thank you for reading, keep warm and safe and I hope to see you again in a couple of weeks.

Jennie.

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by on November 17, 2024  •  Permalink
Posted in A big Adventure
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Posted by Jennie Finch on November 17, 2024

https://www.jenniefinch.me.uk/marching-towards-winter-with-some-help-from-our-friends/

Sometimes things just seem to get harder

Sometimes things – all sorts of things – just seem to get harder as time goes by. I’m no spring chicken anymore so I expect some things to get more difficult. I’ve not really recovered from the falls last year – the concussion is fading at last but I have painful shoulders and spine still and restricted mobility for my arms. There’s a song by One Republic with the line, “For every broken bone I know I’ve lived” and I console myself with this sometimes!

What I didn’t expect was to find writing, something I used to enjoy and think I did pretty well, to get so very much harder. Some of this is probably to do with the huge hiatus in our lives. Covid and the lockdowns followed by uprooting ourselves from a home of 30 years were bound to have an impact. We were exhausted, adrift in a new country and feeling very much alone.

Setting up a new home and trying to sort out what was with us and what was lost, left behind or just plain stolen was emotionally exhausting too. Some losses were annoying – many of our tools, for example. A lot of our cooking utensils, pans and electrical items never appeared. Some things though leave a deep, sad space that cannot be filled. Jacqui packed up her studio and had a box – ready and labelled – of 11 years artwork. Sketchbooks, reference material, pictures and photographs that were the equivalent of the recipe books of all her artistic development. The loss is as raw now as it was then and has blocked her for all this time. Don’t get me wrong, I felt – and still feel – we made the right choice for us. But it was not an easy transition.

We began to settle in and get an idea of what this new life entailed. I’ve covered a lot of the changes and the different demands of living in such a rural location but there’s a lot of day to day stuff that is both necessary and time consuming. In some ways things seem to get harder despite the lovely setting, quiet and a calmer way of life. Writing, for me, needs a bit of a routine and I’ve not sorted one out yet. This is partly due to daily demands but, being honest, I can hide behind that sometimes. A lot of it is wondering why I should write. I have stories to tell, ideas I want to share, but whilst I might write them down I’m at a loss as to what I do then.

Impress, my publisher, was not perfect. In fact it was pretty awful, especially when taken over by Aelurus Publishing. After several years of no contact and no communication they went into administration and there was an unseemly tussle to save the rights to my own books. Fortunately a group of us got together and won our case but it left me with no publisher and little idea of what to do with the completed manuscripts I had ready to go. It has been dispiriting to be honest, especially as, like many writers, I’m not so good at publicity and marketing. Just before I left Saltburn I was told by an agent that no-one would touch an existing series and inferred I was too old to be of interest anyway. Needless to say I wouldn’t want them as my agent but it didn’t help much.

Despite all this I dug out a half-finished novel and did some heavy editing recently. I got to the point where I’d run aground and left it for a few weeks and slowly a little thread emerged, a way I can pick it up and move on. I’m exploring digital marketing through the Open University and I have some (faint but still possible) hope that a new book in a different genre might allow me to reset and move on. Watch this space!

On the homestead, we’ve been very lucky to have some excellent help from Andy who is tackling the hedges, margins and undergrowth around the property. Once it is all cut back we have a fighting chance of keeping it down, especially as Jacqui has found (and assembled) a proper brush cutter. We’ve had the water system serviced and tests taken to ensure it is has lower levels of nitrates, dangerous for us and especially for our dogs. We also need to ensure it is free from coliforms – and don’t get me started on agricultural run-off. The boiler was serviced earlier so we’re set up for the winter and now I think we might get our 5G cable fixed at last. After several calls, reminders and nagging the Rentakill man should be here tomorrow to remove the wasp nest. This should clear the way for the cable and maybe we will even have a landline. My, things are looking up.

Well, thank you for reading. I’ll let you know how it all goes and if the writing progresses may add a preview of the new book.

Take care, keep safe and hope to see you in a couple of weeks.

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by on November 3, 2024  •  Permalink
Posted in A big Adventure, new book, Writing
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Posted by Jennie Finch on November 3, 2024

https://www.jenniefinch.me.uk/sometimes-things-just-seem-to-get-harder/

Adjusting to a very different country

In the UK there is, in some circles, the idea that Ireland is just “England with a funny accent”. Let me disabuse any reader of this idea. It is a very different country, though the accent can take a while to get used to. There is the weather, of course, though this is not as cold as the north-east of England. It is wetter – there’s a saying that it rains every day in Ireland. This is probably true but doesn’t mean it rains where you happen to be. The winds can be a bit fiercer too. I go out every morning in the storm season and check no trees have fallen, especially across the road. This happened once and we were out and cutting it up within an hour. That’s the responsibility of the landowner here.

There are far fewer people in the Republic. Counting up in the last census there are more people in London than in the whole country here, by a big margin. This makes for a different feel and social system, which contributes to the different country. Out in rural areas a neighbour “just over the road” is anyone within about 3 kilometers. We often see our neighbours striding along the road, rain or shine and with or without dogs. They stop and have a quick chat if we are out – one of the nice differences. Large swathes of the country are wild, farmland or inhabited very sparsely so simple things like shopping or posting a letter can take several hours. Adjusting to that has been difficult at times.

The eagle-eyed amongst you may have noticed I used kilometers, not miles, in the last paragraph. Well, Ireland has embraced the metric system with enthusiasm and all signs use metric measures, whether for speed limits or the weight of fish. Jacqui is a whiz at recalculating one from another, especially speed limits, which is a very handy skill. Somehow it seems jouneys should be faster than they are but actually it takes as long to to 100 kilometers in most of Ireland as it takes to do 100 miles in the UK. There are fewer motorways, very few dual carriageways and most roads out of town are barely wide enough for two cars to pass, let alone the huge amount of farm machinery around. Everything from driving habits to time calculations highlight this is a very different country.

There are traffic jams still – nothing changes that much – but they are normally caused by one of three things. Road works and hedgecutting cause a lot of delays. Then there is the moving of large herds of cows for milking. We’ve worked out when the afternoon herd is likely to be out and work around it now. A young man on a quad bike, who stops at every driveway to remove the rope barrier he’s put across on the way down, chivvies this group. Though ably assisted by two collie type dogs that keep the herd moving it takes about 20 minutes.

The final cause is the funeral procession. A cross between a tradition and an endurance sport, this is the transporting of the dead loved one to the church, at walking pace. The family and those attending the mass follow in solemn procession. Anyone on the pavements stops and bows their head in respect. Cars coming the other way often pull over and stop, sometimes with the drivers getting out to pay their respects. After the mass the whole ceremony is repeated as they wend their way to the local cemetery. The times and venues of funerals are broadcast on local FM stations daily. If heard it leaves you likely to actually know whose funeral it is. Like I said, the population is very small here.

There are a lot of really nice differences here. People are much more friendly, something that surprised me as I’m obviously English the moment I open my mouth. A second visit to a shop leaves you staggered to find they know and remember your name. There is space, there are some beautiful landscapes and the birds and wildlife are ever enchanting. The food quality is excellent too. We have the chance to grow our own fruit and vegetables, if the birds don’t get there first of course. On the down side there is no public transport, no infrastructure outside of the towns to speak of and the water quality tends to be rather suspect, mostly due to agricultural run-off. This is rather a sore political pint in the media and many communities at the moment.

Some delivery companies are excellent but there’s always the odd rogue who leaves stuff on the gatepost or even chucks the parcels over the hedge and drives off. We can’t do much about most of that but our water filtration system is working well and registered a clean bill of health in the latest tests for our house water. There are also the occasional rats, one of whom has managed to climb the pole – but hasn’t yet managed to get down to the bird feeder. Mabel, the feral cat, is still prowling at night and acts as a good deterrent.

Some things remain the same though, even in a very different country. I was in the wood and was shocked to see the new trees had lost their leaves. For a moment I thought they were all dying. Then I remembered it is autumn. Trees are supposed to lose their leaves and in fact do so quite lavishly in high winds. Just look at our choked up gutters… We are now shifting into winter mode with new and different tasks. Bringing in the logs twice a week, preferably between showers, is a regular. Chasing out mice and some of the spiders keeps me vigilant. Watching for burst pipes and water flooding running down from the farmer’s field is a constant worry. Despite that we are warm, safe and happy here and planning the next year – after Christmas obviously.

Thank you for reading and I hope you will join me in a few weeks.

Jennie.

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by on October 20, 2024  •  Permalink
Posted in Uncategorized
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Posted by Jennie Finch on October 20, 2024

https://www.jenniefinch.me.uk/adjusting-to-a-very-different-country/

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