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
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Posted by Jennie Finch on October 20, 2024

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

Stormy days and unwanted visitors

It’s a dark and stormy day in Ireland, though not as bad as it seems to be in the UK. There have been a few brighter days recently however and we were able to get the mower out last weekend. The orchard was in real need of a trim as the weeds had one last growth spurt. Now we just keep snipping away, hoping to discourage them before next spring. The path around the wood has stayed quite clear, much to my surprise. There are some feral nettles and very vicious brambles that tend to grow out at head height. I’ve taken to carrying the shears on the mower and lopping off the growth as it tries to catch my face. I have been known to laugh as I cut them down. Rather satisfying actually. And in the wood the trees are just beginning to turn some lovely colours, especially the Japanese Cherry.

“Mount Fuji” flowering cherry

I must check our boundaries as yet more uninvited and unwanted visitors are taking up residence. I’m sure there’s a sign offering free board and lodging to all out there somewhere, though it wouldn’t necessarily influence the flies. They had a short rally in the warm interlude and redoubled their biting before the cold returns. A plethora of Crane flies (Daddy-long-legs to many of us) have appeared too. I’m not overly fond of them but don’t want to swat them either. They seem to be exceptionally dumb however. Most flies will make a dive for the door if it’s open but not the Crane flies. They drift around in the draught, then dive for the floor and huddle inside until they get caught in a spider’s web.

The most unwanted visitors are no longer the occasional rat however. When I opened the side gate to drive the mower through to the garden there was a frantic buzzing all around me. Looking up I saw a swarm of wasps – about fifty or so. I drove clear and stopped a safe distance away. The wasps milled around and then began to fly in and out of the corner of the roof. When they settled a bit I walked over and had a look. There’s a small gap around the gutter and a nest inside. It’s late in the season and they should start to die off soon but the nest is just where the new broadband cables need to go. We’ve had to postpone our installation, after waiting almost four years for a landline. I curse you, wasps!

We are both still recovering from the strange virus we picked up a few weeks ago so have had a quiet week. Next week should also be fairly calm and I’m looking forward to meeting some fellow Irish writers. The Irish chapter of the Society of Authors has reformed and is holding the first on-line meeting on Wednesday. I’m not sure how zoom meetings with a lot of participants work but I’m sure I’ll puzzle it out as it goes along. I hope to make some connections and maybe advice on the publishing landscape over here. I’ve started some writing again so hope to have some news later in the year.

Night time slurrying

There’s a frantic round of slurrying all around as the deadline for emptying all the tanks arrives at the end of September. This is despite the rain and often with double applications followed by very early cutting of the grass. It may explain the midnight slurrying too. As this is likely to impact on the water table we will be testing the well again. It’s almost a year since we had the new system installed and it is due a service and renewal of the filters in a few weeks. Depending on the test results we may need yet another filter in case of heavy pollution. There is a fierce debate going on at present over the run-off of agricultural waste into the water system, both ground water and rivers and lakes. The water in Ireland fails to meet basic standards over almost 85% of the country but farmers insist they need to slurry and add fertilizer above the current EU allowances. Whilst this argument continues many of us have to go to great lengths and considerable expense to ensure our water is safe.

And so to the rat. Cheeky little thing – he was out in broad daylight last week, trying to climb the pole in the garden. At the very top is a bird feeder of nuts, hung there so these unwanted visitors couldn’t get them. Chloe, the oldest of our dogs went out and circled the pole but he was long gone. The cameras have caught him trying to get to the bird feeder, without success so far. We now have a staunch ally in this battle – Mabel the cat is stalking him. She comes out at night and has identified his entry points. She’s getting bolder and even walks along the window sills and over the gate to reach the areas where he has been seen. We have high hopes the camera will show her dragging his little corpse off very soon.

We are not sure if Mabel is a farm cat or a feral but we’ve spotted her out in some inclement weather. Jacqui has plans to make a small shelter for her up on the wall – a covered platform at first and if she uses it we will add sides and some bedding. I’m not sure about putting food out as this will attract even more rats though she would probably deal with them I suppose.

It’s blowing up a storm outside with leaves and twigs flying around the garden. We are still relying on the satellite broadband, which can be patchy in poor weather so I’ll stop here while I still have a signal. Thank you for reading and I’ll be back in a couple of weeks, hopefully filled with ideas and enthusiasm for my new novel.

Take care, and see you then.

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by on September 29, 2024  •  Permalink
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Posted by Jennie Finch on September 29, 2024

https://www.jenniefinch.me.uk/stormy-days-and-unwanted-visitors/

It’s that time of year again

I said last year that autumn comes early to Ireland and hey – it’s that time of year again. Actually it seems as if spring has just slipped past summer with barely a glance. It has been the coldest and wettest summer for nine years and we are already getting ready for winter. Still, there is one good thing about autumn here in Tipperary. Almost overnight the nasty, tiny biting flies are gone, or at least thinning out considerably. The fly season has been shorter this year, probably as they don’t like the rain so much, but they’ve made up for it by being much nastier when they do bite. Well, the cooler weather should put paid to the last of them.

Starlings

I think our swifts have gone now. For a week there was a cloud of them over the wood and garden each evening, swooping and calling as they gobbled up my nemesis. Go on swifts – eat your fill! I’ve always had a soft spot for them, especially after a week in Dubrovnic. This was before all the “Game of Thrones” stuff so the town was much less over run. Jacqui was presenting a paper at the International Centre and we booked a house inside the old town. It was up on the ramparts and the top room reached out over the street four floors below.

I spent part of each morning writing a diary and watching the town come to life, first our top few layers and then all the way down. As the sun rose above the buildings huge flocks of swifts flew through the narrow gaps between the houses, hundreds of them, shouting and skimming at seemingly impossible speeds around the corners. They were below our kitchen, in the narrow alleys. It was a wonderful sight. Our swifts bring back those memories of journeys past. The starlings have lined up on the wires too, heading off for somewhere warmer. Now it’s the time of year to welcome different birds into the garden.

Actually there’s a second up side to the time of year. The apples on the Katy tree are ripening fast and I go out each day to look for windfalls. They are absolutely delicious but don’t keep well for more than a few weeks so we are enjoying them now. I’m amazed we have had any fruit so soon after planting. I think that is down to Donal and the care he has taken in choosing and setting the trees. Another tree, James Grieves, has a couple of apples too. I never in my life thought we would be harvesting fruit from our own trees. I can’t wait for next year, to see what that brings.

Norwegian Maple

Out in the wood the new trees are doing well and we are now thinking about the next phase. It’s the time of year for clearing, cutting back and ordering trees for winter planting but also for enjoying the progress we have made. This year’s star is the little Norwegian Maple, now settling into its autumn coat. The leaves are turning a stunning deep red and this will be a wonderful centerpiece in a few years. Jacqui chose well, with trees giving colour through much of the year. Early blossom fades into green and silver leaves until autumn brings some welcome warmth with red and gold. Now we are thinking about a copper beech or two, a horse chestnut at the very back and (if we can get it) a Balsam Fir as an outdoor Christmas tree.

This is also the time of year when lots of relatively small jobs rear their heads. We have finally located a sweep who removed several years of soot from the stove chimney. A great relief, and the fire draws much better now. The boiler needs to be serviced – it’s suddenly going cold in the middle of a shower, which is not what you want on these cooler mornings. The wonderful “new” water system is also due new filters and a service as it has been in for a year now. All this takes a lot of organizing, especially as we are quite remote. Understandably workmen and engineers try to lump jobs together if possible so we are dependant on other (relatively) local people also needing these things done.

On a trip into town last week we spotted a bright yellow tray in an antique shop window. It was badly cracked and useless as a tray but there aren’t many artifacts emblazoned with “Finches”, complete with a picture of a bird.
After mulling it over for a few days I went in and bought it. I’m not sure what we are going to do with it – fix it to my study door maybe? Put it on display on a shelf? Still, we are very careful what we buy now and are moving much more stuff out than in so as the first impulse buy in over a year I don’t feel too bad about it.

Well, it’s getting cold up here and it’s the time of year when we need to consider running the heating for an hour or so if we are sitting for a while. Hoping you are all healthy and keeping well. Thank you for reading.

Jennie.

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by on September 15, 2024  •  Permalink
Posted in A big Adventure, Remembering travels
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Posted by Jennie Finch on September 15, 2024

https://www.jenniefinch.me.uk/its-that-time-of-year-again/

Happiness is a working mower and baby swifts

After a rather fraught few weeks it is nice to have some better news to share with you. Our big problem recently is the breakdown of the ride-on mower. This may seem like an indulgence but with the area we have it makes keeping it in order just about possible. My shoulders are not yet healed and Jacqui is still recovering from various ills making anything too physical almost impossible. The mower stopped working a month ago, throwing out black and then white smoke and coughing before dying completely. The determined and talented Andy worked through possible solutions, from dirty plugs to a choked carburetor. Despite new parts and lots of cleaning it still refused to run. Then we tried draining the fuel tank and adding all new petrol. Like a miracle it worked and we had a working mower again!

Andy says he’s had a number of calls about similar problems and it may well be down to the new “green” addition to petrol. Bio fuel, even at 10%, can attack rubber so hoses and seals rot away, break down and pollute the engine. Certainly the seals and hoses on our machine showed significant breakdown. Well, the weather finally cleared and we spent a happy couple of days pushing back against the weeds, brambles and long grasses that threatened all our recent progress. Happiness is indeed a working mower!

20240829_113236

As some rather nasty storms swept in last week we needed to get a bit more wood from the store. We’ve been very quiet and slow if we needed to go into that end of the lean-to as we didn’t want to disturb the swifts nesting there. The growing pile of guano on the floor indicated there were still birds there though we hadn’t actually seen them. This time however I glanced up and was startled to see three little heads poking over the edge. Baby swifts! We have baby swifts. They weren’t in the least scared by our activities, just watching us. It is getting late in the season now and the swifts are already lining up on the wires ready for the flight to the sun. They are not massing yet but we are worried our little family may be too late or too young. I’ll let you know if they get away safely.

The animal rescue mission continues, this time with newts. Our friend Noel found the first one whilst working on the raised bed. Since then I’ve seen several more and late last night I spotted one lying on a flagstone in the back garden. It looked as if the dogs had stepped on it but I managed to pick it up. It flopped over onto its back when I put it down in a small pile of greenery so I turned it over but it was limp and still. I fetched some water and trickled it over the newt and the greenery hoping it might help, then got the dogs in. Just a few minutes later it was gone – newts can play possum, I think.

One less welcome arrival is a rat – or possibly several rats – appearing from the field at the back. We were alerted to them by Charlie, who has taken up a position by the back door, alert and barking as soon as they appear. I moved one of the trail cameras and have pictures of it clambering down the wall late at night. Then Mabel, the feral/farm cat, appeared and the rats, very wisely, stayed away. I hope that between them Charlie and Mabel will persuade them to move on somewhere else. I don’t think Charlie has met Mabel properly but he is familiar with cats. We had cats with all our Tibetan dogs in Saltburn and they always got on very well.

Elver Man note

Now, a bit of writing news. I’ve always fretted over the ending of “Death of the Elver Man”, my first novel. I reached the end and realised I had no idea how to finish it off. Well, fourteen years later I have produced a new final paragraph and this will be in the new edition when it is republished. However, this seems a bit unfair to all my loyal readers who have already bought the book so if you are one of them and would like to see this ending please email me at jennie@jenniefinch.me.uk and I will send you an e-copy. You just have to promise not to share it with anyone else please!

Well, that’s about all for this episode. Thank you for reading and I will be back in a couple of weeks.

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by on September 1, 2024  •  Permalink
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Posted by Jennie Finch on September 1, 2024

https://www.jenniefinch.me.uk/happiness-is-a-working-mower-and-baby-swifts/

August is the cruelest month – in Tipperary

TS Eliot declared April was the cruelest month but I would say this is not the case in Tipperary. Here I think it is August instead. August has the false promise if Eliot’s April – decent weather at last, a time to rest and relax, a break from the harder months – but, alas, fails to deliver. The warm weather comes with high humidity, the heat mixed with sudden and fierce squalls. Plant life goes mad as only Irish plants can. There is the miasma of slurry (and worse) some mornings following a flurry of overnight spreading. But worst of all, the flies are back. There have been fewer large flies this year but the tiny biting types are everywhere and they can get everywhere. Each day brings a new rash of painful, itching bites on feet, arms, legs – and other places I’m not going to detail.

All set up ready
Only in Ireland?

August for us was meant to be a quieter month but in fact it has been rather frantic. I was preparing for the North Tipperary Agricultural Show last time I wrote. This took place on August 5th, the summer national holiday here. In keeping with August’s “cruelest month”, it dawned cold, overcast and with high winds whipping over the site. Despite this we managed to set up the gazebo with the help of our new neighbours, Alan and Michelle. They have a stand called “Noodles and Chig”, selling accessories for pets, especially dogs. As we were next to the show ring for dogs it proved to be a popular spot and a good day was had by us all, despite the ever-changing weather. Alan and Michelle do a number of shows around the area so do look out for them.

We had just recovered a little from the show when we were off to Limerick, to see the dreaded endocrinologists. On a scale of one to all the other appointments this came close to the bottom. Generally the junior doctors are quite positive, taking a good clinical history and being open to questions and discussions. Not so this time and a frustrating quarter of an hour culminated in him threatening to call security and have us removed! I was so startled I burst out laughing – “For two little old ladies?” I said. He went bright red, slowly getting more embarrassed as the appointment went on. After he wheeled in the obligatory consultant, the man we had seen previously and told him we were not seeing again, we left – without a security detail and with no help, advice or changes.

We wouldn’t have managed the trip, ghastly but necessary as it is, without our lovely friend Catherine. Despite being wiped out from organizing the show on Monday she came round and kept the dogs company, let them out and played with them and still had time to cut the grass for us. Our mower needs a new carburetor and we can’t find one anywhere so are watching as the weeds threaten much of our hard work. Thank you Catherine – we cannot say how grateful we are.

Getting ready for spring

The grass cuttings were a godsend when our next visitor arrived earlier this week. Noel was on his annual trip to see family and friends and stayed for a few nights. Apart from being good company and bringing a few things for us he is an amazing and determined worker. With all the medical appointments and my ongoing weak shoulders we have struggled with the tasks we set ourselves around the land. Noel dived in and with a bit of help from me stripped out the wild growth around the site for the raised bed. Catherine’s grass cuttings were laid over the existing straw and cardboard layers, covered with more cardboard and weighed down with top soil bags. Come next spring we can cut the bags, spread the soil, add compost and we are ready to plant. The dogs loved him and a good time was had by all.

Things definitely improved this week as after over a year’s wait we finally got another appointment at the eye clinic. Jacqui had tried to phone, repeatedly, wrote to the department and we even called in hoping to get an appointment, all to no avail. It did mean another trip to Limerick (oh joy) but this department runs close to appointments and we were away for less time. The consultant we saw was a delight. She listened to the sorry tale, checked all the new scans and gave us two good bits of news. No need for injections at the moment, she said. But the eye problems are due to cataracts and she put Jacqui onto the list whilst we were there. I cannot express the sense of relief we both feel.

Katy Apple (the very first)
Katy Apple (quality control)
Katy Apple (remains of)

Well, the weather is still fickle, we are both now struggling with a cold – not covid, I checked – and the loss of the mower is a big problem. Still, I picked the first of our apples from the Katy tree today. It was delicious – sweet, a bit sharp and so juicy. There’s something quite magical about food you grow yourself. So maybe August isn’t quite the cruelest month after all.

Take care and thank you for reading.

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by on August 18, 2024  •  Permalink
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Posted by Jennie Finch on August 18, 2024

https://www.jenniefinch.me.uk/august-is-the-cruelest-month-in-tipperary/

A few weeks of preparation and planning

After the last few settled days we have found ourselves in the midst of a whirlwind of preparation and planning. As is often the case, we have been expecting some of it but some is new and rather unwelcome. There was some nice weather to begin with so we got out the mower and spent a happy hour or so whizzing around the wood, garden and orchard. It’s still the total mad growing season so we have to be vigilant and keep the undergrowth at bay. This requires some preparation – checking the weather forecast, being ready early in the morning and having a spare can of petrol to hand to keep the mower topped up. Still, the results are immediate and very gratifying.

Jacqui’s driving license needed renewing and we realized she needed both medical and eye sight forms completed. This needs some planning as both required a trip to town, about 40 kilometers round trip. We were able to book both on the same afternoon and with a bit of cunning planning I added a shopping trip whilst she was having her eyes tested. This triumph of organization fell flat when we got the news she needs some urgent medical intervention for her eyes. She’s fine to drive at the moment but the failure of the hospital in Limerick to follow on with her injections is having a bad impact now.

After some serious thought we decided we would try one more time to get this put right. We have another Limerick trip next week (oh joy) so will haunt the eye department until we see the specialist. This needs quite a lot of preparation as we will be away most of the day and the dogs can’t be left inside and alone all that time. Enter our lovely friend Catherine who has promised to sit with them for part of the time. So, off we will go to arm wrestle some sense and help out of the hospital. Wish us luck!

Some of the preparation involved getting ready for our good friends Helen and Adrian this week. They are walking along the Wild Atlantic Way every time they visit Ireland and then come to us for a bit of R&R. Actually I’m not sure how much R&R Helen gets as she spends a good amount of time weeding the drive and clearing areas of the orchard or wood when she is here. We love to see them both and are very impressed and grateful for all her endeavors but it’s supposed to be a bit of a holiday for her! Seriously, thank you Helen.

A chunk of my time was spent getting ready for the North Tipperary Show on (Irish) August bank holiday. This has taken a lot of preparation, as I don’t want to be just a wobbly table in the corner especially if it rains. The show is a very eclectic mix of agriculture, dogs, craft and cookery competitions, art and music. It is, for this area, large and crowded so I want to stand out and be noticed. Jacqui suggested I should have some sort of small tent and found a rather lovely pop up gazebo that was delivered last week. As it was raining we practiced putting it up indoors, with Helen’s help and were very impressed. It was a bit large though, even for our kitchen-diner.
I also decided to go a bit professional and spent several days designing a roller banner. This involved a lot of photographs and struggling with the website but finally we had a finished design that looked good. This is also rather large – so tall I have to lay it on the floor to fix it and then lift it up. The result is very striking though not exactly as I planned. Whilst I ordered a rather nice soft purple it arrived a bright fuchsia pink. So much for careful preparation and planning! Well, I don’t think anyone can miss it anyway. The final result will be revealed next time.

11.30pm Slurry

It is now getting cloudy and wet again and once more we have (very) late night farm wagons on the road. I wonder why it is necessary to slurry the fields at midnight? Maybe a lack of planning and preparation…

Swift nest
Bull Finch on the fence

We have more birds around again including a swift’s nest in the new lean-to. They didn’t waste any time, arriving, building and moving in within a few weeks of completion. I spotted the nest when in the wood section and two very startled birds flew past me and out into the wood. I was concerned I’d driven them away but last time I was out I saw a large pile of droppings under the nest. I’ve never been so happy to see bird mess in my life.

“Katy”

We’ve also had a bullfinch on the garden fence eating the grass seeds. The next day there were four of them, a family I think as two were small and the other adult was male. On the down side, the birds (unidentified species) stripped the young raspberries one night. I must find some deterrent for next year. However one of the apple trees, “Katy”, has started to produce a crazy amount of fruit. Bear in mind the trees were planted just four months ago!

So, next week has far too many medical appointments and I will continue my preparation for the show, which is on the 5th August. I’ve lots of books to pack up, sets of crime novels to sort and a range of different bookmarks to arrange. I might have another go at the gazebo too, just to make sure. If you are around do pop over and say hello – it would be lovely to meet you.

Thank you for reading and I hope you have a happy few weeks.

Jennie.

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by on July 21, 2024  •  Permalink
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Posted by Jennie Finch on July 21, 2024

https://www.jenniefinch.me.uk/a-few-weeks-of-preparation-and-planning/

Wildlife rescue, new friends and a different way of life

Last time I wrote about Pip and Squeak, the two tiny bats we found in our bathroom. Well, despite our best efforts we found another a few days later. We called him Wilfred. (I suspect you need to be British and over 60 to understand this by the way). Well, Wilfred was also rescued, placed in the pile of twigs and covered with a box to recover and he also flew away that evening.

I was considering getting us “Bat Rescue” t-shirts when Charlie, our youngest dog started clawing at some planks in the garden. Chasing him off, I saw the tail of a mouse jammed into a crack. When I moved the wood away I saw not a mouse but a little vole. It was actually shaking from fear but recovered enough to turn and dash for the safety of a wooden flower tub, not needing any more help from us. Charlie was furious, even more so when the next night he chased the smallest frog I’ve ever seen. It was the size of a fingernail, a lovely brown and cream colour and after I intervened it hopped into the drain and escaped too. Maybe I should get “Wildlife Rescue” shirts instead.

We took a trip to Cloughjordan last week to visit the Courtyard Nursery. Run by Sean, this is a lovely place and Sean is very helpful and knowledgeable. We met up with Lorraine and Andy, new friends who arrived about 18 months ago, and enjoyed an excellent talk in the courtyard along with refreshments from the little coffee bar. We left with a honeysuckle plant for Betsy’s Garden, some glorious yellow and red pot plants and a pocket full of advice. Andy has set up a maintenance business for garden machinery and just a few days later we had to call him for help.

Jacqui had been doing an excellent job mowing the orchard when the mower died on us. We realized it was probably out of petrol so I collected the spare fuel but – we couldn’t get the cap off the tank. It’s always a bit of a struggle but this time it defied all our efforts, including the mole grips. We managed to move the mover into the trees at the side and called Andy for advice. Although it was Sunday they both came over and Andy managed to open the tank. We’d run it down to nothing and in the (remarkable) few hot days the last few drops had evaporated causing a vacuum in the pipe. I cannot say how grateful we were for their help and promise this will never happen again!

After all the excitement of last month I find myself rather tired. Very tired actually. There is a lot to do around the place and sometimes it is hard to remember everything or work out how to do some things. Most of us grow up with the routine of our parents around us and the running of a house becomes familiar. We learn what needs to be done by watching and often by joining in as we grow older. When we move away and set up our own home we carry much of this knowledge with us along with the routines, impressed into our subconscious, and transfer them into our own lives. This is partly why hoarders often have hoarding parents – or react so strongly against the clutter they own virtually nothing.
Moving to a new country, many things are different. Do not make the mistake of thinking Ireland is just England with a funny accent. It isn’t. It is very different in the social, political and economic sense. Some things remain the same – the washing still needs to be done, hoovering is still necessary and the dogs certainly need to be fed. However, the food for the dogs now requires a 40 kilometre round trip to the shops. All the shopping, apart from a few staples, need planning and a trip to the main town. We are now getting better at combining tasks – trip to the recycling centre, pick up pills at the vet, pop into the bank and then shop. It’s taken a while but we have cut our trips down from many days to once a week most months.

There are some new jobs we never had to even consider before moving here. Watering the new saplings in the wood and orchard? Mowing the orchard and the paths around the wood? Even cutting grass is new as we had a tiny (concrete) yard rather than a garden. The water softener needs salt every week and the solar system and water meters are logged every evening. After a storm we need to check no trees have come down, especially over the road. And there is the dreaded grease trap that needs regular cleaning. We have a second sink for anything remotely oily as it bypasses the system but still the trap builds up. There’s the composting to keep up with and the wildlife – more wildlife, most of it very welcome.

Jacqui is of the opinion that now, as we are more settled, all the stress and effort we put in for the move and the time afterwards, has finally caught up with us. We are more comfortable in the house, we’ve made good progress with much of the land and we understand life here better. There’s a new rhythm developing and many things are more predictable, or at least easier to deal with. Time to kick back a little maybe. Time to stop and relax a bit more. This is a very lovely place so now we can take a bit more time to enjoy it.

But in the meantime I will be getting ready for my first public appearance as a writer in Ireland. I will be signing books at the North Tipperary Agricultural Show in Nenagh Showground on Monday 5th August. More on that to follow but if you are attending do come over and say hello!

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by on July 7, 2024  •  Permalink
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Posted by Jennie Finch on July 7, 2024

https://www.jenniefinch.me.uk/wildlife-rescue-new-friends-and-a-different-way-of-life/

An EPIC Adventure part 2 – and a batty return

I broke off the last episode part way through my trip to Dublin. Compared to our quiet life here in Tipperary it seemed a very eventful couple of days, too much for the one blog. So, picking up from the second morning, I was stiff and sore from my route marching the day before but determined to see the EPIC museum. I’d heard a lot about it, including the fact it had been placed in the world’s top 5 museums. Focussing on the numerous waves of emigration from Ireland, it has a personal link to some of my history too. I had to see what all the fuss was about.

One thing Dublin has in abundance is taxis. Not surprising as the buses and trams, whilst numerous, are very hard for a visitor to navigate. I bid the B&B a fond farewell and hailed a taxi from right outside. A quick run through slightly more familiar streets (EPIC is quite close to my overnight accommodation) and I walked through the doors into a huge glass atrium. I was a bit shocked at the cost – 21 Euros for an oldie – but I have to say it was worth every cent. The atrium stretched the length of the building and there are shops, cafes and different facilities all along both sides. Families and individuals were already settled at the tables or on the couches, reading or talking, some enjoying the excellent choice of food. I put my bag in a locker, admired the life-size model of a clover-covered pig on a table inside and cast around for the actual museum.

After wandering up and down for a few minutes I swallowed my pride and went back to the ticket office by the entrance. They were perfectly polite and gestured towards a stone staircase heading down. The whole thing is underground. Housed in the vaults below the old port building, the main exhibition has twenty different rooms, each devoted to a single topic. It is difficult to describe the impact of this amazing environment. It uses a lot of film and photography and links the general to the specific through short narratives from actual people. The sound and the film quality is excellent, almost (but not quite) overwhelming in some rooms.

As an artistic display it is stunning with huge models, costumes, paintings and artifacts brought together to tell a story. It is the story however that is so powerful. I think it is something you need to experience to understand it. I was partly expecting a fair amount of self-pity and anger, which would actually be justified given the history of this country. In fact it was quite the opposite. This is not a narrative of victims but of strong, resourceful people. It was enlightening and occasionally sad but ultimately hugely uplifting and inspiring. The journey through the underground barrel vaults can be marked off on a “passport”, issued at the entrance, something I did rather obsessively.

As well as being educational (who knew in 1770 all the Bordeaux wine merchants were Irish?), there are some nice interactive pieces. Selfies at the “convict for transportation” board are very popular especially as you can choose your own crime! The last room is a huge electronic wall of names where the emigrants are listed. I added my Great Grandfather to the hundreds of thousands already remembered.

With the help of a nice ticket inspector I was able to get a tram back to the station in good time, saving my poor swollen knees. The journey showed both the best of the city and some of the darker side also. The people are friendly and helpful. The murals and street art is fabulous (and occasionally subversive) and much of the architecture is splendid. But also there are a large number of rough sleepers, often with just a sleeping bag. Residents scarcely notice them, walking round the bodies without a glance. Small blue tents are reappearing on the riverbanks, soon to be moved on by the Garda. Fast food bicycles are everywhere, often ridden by young men who are almost gaunt as they take terrible risks to meet impossible deadlines. I came away with so much to think about.

As a footnote, a couple of nights ago Jacqui thought she spotted a large spider-like creature in the shower at night. Or maybe it was a small bat. At 3am you really don’t want to investigate too closely, just in case it’s a bat-spider or something equally scary. In the morning I couldn’t find anything so had a shower, but then spotted a lump of dirt moving in one corner, hidden behind a spray bottle. It was a baby bat, smaller than the top of my thumb, soaked through but still just conscious. I was mortified but Jacqui had done some reading about bats in the night.

June is the month when baby bats get lost and confused and can fly into houses. We looked around and spotted another resting above the bathroom door. Following the article’s advice we moved both bats wrapped in a soft rag and placed them outside in a pile of twigs. They were up high away from the dogs and covered with a box to keep out the light. At dusk we removed the box and resisted the urge to poke around the twigs for several hours. There were some signs of movement though so we were hopeful. They both survived and flew away when it got dark and that felt really good. We named them Pip and Squeak and it made a fine ending to a busy and very different couple of weeks.

Thank you for reading. If you are ever in Dublin do go to EPIC – it is an amazing experience.

Have a good few weeks and I hope you will join me soon.

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by on June 23, 2024  •  Permalink
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Posted by Jennie Finch on June 23, 2024

https://www.jenniefinch.me.uk/an-epic-adventure-part-2-and-a-batty-return/

The unexpected and EPIC trip to Dublin

Sometimes I sit down to write this blog and I find I’m struggling to find anything interesting to say. Not so this week – I think I’ve got too much to write. It was looking like a fairly normal week when my friend Jon Moore, a specialist make up expert in films, tv and theatre, contacted me to ask if I’d like to meet him in Dublin. He was working on the Brian Butterfield tour and offered to add me to the guest list. I’d never been to Dublin and Jacqui would have to stay behind to look after the dogs – holding the fort we call it. Worried I would bottle out if I hesitated I found trains, somewhere to stay that left a bit in my bank account and accepted. I was off to Dublin!

Our nearest station is Nenagh and they do run trains to Dublin but only one a day, at an ungodly hour, is direct. All the others go into Limerick, change for Limerick Junction then change again for Dublin. As Nenagh’s station is, to be frank, a total wasteland I had to scurry around Limerick Colbert Station to print off my ticket. Thanks to a very helpful conductor I managed it and got the connection to Limerick Junction. This is one of the coldest and bleakest stations I’ve ever experienced. There’s no shelter bar the roof and mean little squalls blow across the platforms as passengers huddle behind the pillars. Swifts were flying through it shouting loudly, presumably mocking our travel choices.

The Dublin train was a welcome sight. The last leg was much more comfortable with a reserved seat and – the height of luxury – a trolley service. Though this had 27 types of fizzy drink, many sorts of crisps and mountains of chocolate but no sandwiches to speak of. On Jacqui’s suggestion I’d made my own so I curled up in my corner and munched happily. There was even a trickle of heat from the vents at the side of the carriage.

After more than three years in the rural midlands, Dublin was a bit of a shock at first. One crucial difference to the UK is there is nothing resembling an A to Z of the city. It has many buses, a tram network and they are almost unusable for a stranger as all stops refer to unknown streets. I knew the address of my B&B so hailed one of the many, many taxis hovering around. The B&B was very nice – a bit old and worn, like me now, but welcoming and beautifully clean. David, at the desk, was typically welcoming and they had a tourist map available for all guests. I hoped this, combined with Google maps, would help me find my way around. How wrong I was.

RTE1 had just run three programmes on O’Connell Street, which was very close to my B&B, so I had a vague idea of where to go. In the centre of the street is the Spire – 120 metres high, shiny steel and visible from a long way away. It became my lifeline as I struggled to navigate the city. I made it to the Forbidden Planet bookshop fairly easily. I’d arranged to meet Jon there as Peter Serafinowicz, the star of the “Brian Butterfield” show, was signing books. Although it is 30 years since we last met we recognized one another at once and it was as if we’d never had such a gap. I got my book signed and the selfie taken. Peter Serafinowicz was lovely and I can heartily recommend the book, “There’s no business like…business”.

Cities – and especially Dublin – are for younger, fitter people than I am now. I went back to my B&B for a little rest, then wandered down the side streets to get some dinner. The side streets were a mistake, I was immediately horribly lost and I resorted to Google to guide me to the venue. This was an even bigger mistake as the stupid AI sent me to the wrong place – almost 3 km down the quayside and into another maze-like district that was not on my map. After a futile search I limped to a taxi stand where a driver took me along the quay to the area I needed – then wove through another maze and dropped me off back at the wrong theatre again.

I was almost in tears – I’d missed the start of the show, I was so stiff from the endless cobbles and hills I could hardly walk and I didn’t dare risk another taxi. Some lovely people outside a pub directed me to a bus that would take me back and after a short ride I finally arrived at the venue. Here the theatre staff were all kindness itself, taking me up to the bar, seating me on a sofa and getting me a drink. I chose a large orange squash with ice – I know how to party.

I caught the second half of the show, which was wonderful. Jon, despite being so busy, came out to see me again and we said our good-byes, promising to get together sooner next time. I am lucky to have had such clever, talented and thoughtful students over my years at the Art College. I hope some of them read this and know I think of them often, generally in a positive way.

The next day I was horribly stiff and sore but I had really wanted to go to EPIC, the Irish Emigration museum. Voted one of the top 5 museums in the world, it certainly lives up to its reputation. Despite struggling to walk without staggering I went in and – well, this has already been quite a long episode so I will save the EPIC for next time. Watch this space – it won’t disappoint.
Neither did Dublin.

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

Jennie.

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by on June 9, 2024  •  Permalink
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Posted by Jennie Finch on June 9, 2024

https://www.jenniefinch.me.uk/the-unexpected-and-epic-trip-to-dublin/

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