The mini digger and very boggy ground – it’s April alright

Well, it’s April still, just, and the weather is a bit better at last. It has finally shifted from relentless rain to “changeable”. There were even a few wonderful days of bright, warm sun – a most welcome development. The expected spring growth spurt has been delayed this year, which is certainly a blessing. The last couple of years we’ve looked over the garden and the wood where things were just starting to emerge. Then a week later the grass, brambles, bindweed, thistles et al were up over our knees. Terrifying and very, very dispiriting.

Well, this year we were more prepared. The orchard is growing a carpet of soft green grass, mixed with some determined intruders. We are equally determined and were planning to use the lighter electric mower on it but then we had a bit of an incident with the mini digger. We’ve been hoping to try this out for some time and finally managed to book it for a week. A very dinky thing, it weighs just (!) a ton and is very small. It rolled up the new ramp into the top of the orchard and we prepared to shift some of the feral buttercups. Alas, within a few minutes it began to sink into the ground. After some nifty maneuvering we got it out again but the top of the land was badly churned up and we had to abandon that job.

Later we tried to change the bucket as we hoped to get it around a very tight corner to clear a space for the polytunnel greenhouse. I’ve always found this very difficult and after a number of attempts the damn thing coughed, jerked violently and stopped. Unwilling to be dissed by a tiny digger we let it settle and tried again, with the same result. A quick consultation with youtube and we had to drive to the nearest garage (4 kilometres), buy a new can and get some diesel. It started but kept jerking and cutting out. It got so bad it was like trying to ride a bucking bronco so we waited for the next day and rang the Hire Company. They sent out a mechanic who got it running and we were able to maneuver round the corner and start some digging. Three scoops later it coughed and died. Overall a bit of a bust.

After that we decided the land was still too soft, even for the flymower, so we are heading to the hardware store to get a pair of long handled shears. That should see to the determined intruders until we can start some regular mowing. It being April, we were watching the new planting and every tree, in the orchard or wood, is now putting out leaves. A number of them have also sprung into life and have sprays of blossom. Irish trees seem particularly hardy. I remember my father cursing the wind in Essex as it stripped the flowers from the apple trees. Here we’ve had some very high wings but the trees cling to their blossom despite the storms.

It has been a rather busy month. In fact we are close to the end of April and we’ve almost finished the jobs we need to enlist men for. As we didn’t manage to get the corner cleared and neither of us can cope with the heavy digging or move the blocks by hand we have called on Donal for help. We’ve been looking at ways to make life easier, especially over winter, and one big issue is the woodpile. We finally got Bill, the amazing fence man out. He spent a couple of days putting up a lean-to in the corner of the wood so now the tarps are off and the remaining wood is drying nicely. It will be so much easier, not having to drag the covers around and sort through for dryish logs, often in hail or snow. We won’t have damp logs drying inside either, which will reduce condensation and danger of mould. Bill even moved a couple of chunks of wood round our primroses to protect them for machinery and boots.

It is finally April proper as yesterday I saw the first swifts flying madly over the wood. They are a beautiful sight and catch so many midges too, an added bonus. We have birds nesting in our hedge and up by the orchard as well as in the Juniper tree outside the kitchen window. I was outside calling the dogs last week and could hear them rustling and tweeting softly. The next night a small group of bats did a quick fly past, about half a dozen. Remembering the bat that flew into the house last year I hurriedly closed all the doors. It is nice to see all the life around us though the downside is the birds and bats do keep setting off the security lights!

We are doing okay here and are looking forward to a quieter summer and autumn as so much of the work is already done. We are just waiting for the long anticipated visit from the plumber, a species slightly more rare than the unicorn over here. With some fine weather we can relax a bit, sit outside and enjoy the garden and indulge in a bit of gardening. And use the mower on our new grass of course.

Thank you for reading. I hope we all get some decent weather and a summer to remember for the right reasons!

And the rain it rains every day

Yes, it’s still raining, every day, here in Ireland. I see from the news it’s raining every day in the UK too. I’ve seen some bad years for inclement weather over the years (quite a lot of years – it astounds me just how many) but nothing like this. Some people have blamed El Nino which is a regular occurrence, but much more pronounced over the past year. There are worrying signs of climate change as the Earth’s temperature continues to rise. And a good friend reported a comment by a local farmer in England. According to him, there were two full moons in July 2023. Whenever this happens it will rain for the next twelve months. Well, we are almost there now.

Apart from being really rather gloomy this has had quite an impact on everyday life in our little corner of Ireland. Our house is at the top of a hill but just below the brow. This is good as we have some shelter from the worst of the storm winds. Generally they come in from the south west, off the Atlantic and whistle down the road but go over the top of the house. It is not so good however when there is very heavy rain. The field out to the south drops down to our boundary and there can be a lot of run-off. This flows over our land and works its way into the Majestic.

When Donal cleared the land for the small orchard he made an earth barrier along the boundary and this has reduced the amount of water considerably. Thank you Donal! And thank you for the wonderful work you’ve done on what was overgrown wasteland. One good thing about the rain, especially as there are now some brighter spells, is that the trees are already growing. They all have leaves or buds and a couple have a dusting of blossom, despite the high winds. The newly sown grass has sprung up in the last week and the whole area is transformed. It makes us smile every time we look at it and neighbours walking or driving past have also commented favourably.

One of the best ways to help dry out waterlogged land is by tree planting. It’s rather long term but more of a permanent solution so we are already planning the next round for the wood. Just like the orchard, the new trees are already starting to grow and one of the flowering cherries has some sparse but lovely blossom. Next year we hope there will be a real show of colour to herald the coming of spring.

Much to our surprise, the road menders arrived a few weeks ago and did a very decent job of repairing the four major holes on the road. We can now actually drive along there without risking our tyres, though the downside is they dumped the damaged tarmac in the pond opposite and threw some over our side boundary. There has been a massive increase in road damage over the winter – the local paper led with the headline “Thousands of potholes on our roads”,and it’s not much of an exaggeration. Sometimes it’s like being in a particularly difficult video game, with one of us driving and the other acting as a spotter. A trip to the shops now sounds like, “Hole left…bad bit right…mind the middle…holes left, about four…” It makes journeys interesting if a bit tiring.

Not content with all the progress with the trees, we have a mini-mini digger coming next week. This is only one ton but is small enough to drive (very carefully) round the side to get at the patch next to the back wall. Some time ago we bought a polytunnel greenhouse and we hope to clear the brambles and bushes from this area, set it up and use some of the remaining blocks to build a raised bed just outside the door. We will probably be reliant on raised beds for a lot of plants as the ground is extremely stony. We were shocked when Donal, digging in the wood area, reported hitting rock just a spade depth down. In the end he used a digger, made deep, wide holes filled with earth and planted the trees that way.

The lack of any soil deeper than about eight inches would explain why so many young trees were dying when we arrived. Yes, there’s considerable ash die back but the poor things didn’t stand much of a chance with no space to put down roots. We puzzled over the size and depth of the rock, which comprises tightly packed stones of various sizes. Then we had a chat with a neighbour from just up the hill. She is also having problems finding anywhere to plant as the stones and rocks are only six inches below her soil line. Apparently a lot of this hill was used as a quarry a long time ago and much of this could be abandoned spoil. Well, we have wonderful soil in the top area as years of leaf mould, scrub die back and the fallen trees have rotted down to form rich, deep earth for planting.

The rain has played havoc with our wood store as the high winds brought the tarps down months ago and we have been trying to pull them over and weigh them down ever since. It’s not all bad however. Quite a lot of the wlogs have shed their bark which will make a wonderful mulch. Maybe in a few years we will have lovely rich soil in the wood too. We are hoping Bill, the excellent fence man, will come to repair it and construct a lean-to shelter ready for next winter, when once more, the rain will rain every day.

Thank you for reading. Here’s to a decent spring and – let us whisper it – even some summer this year.

Happy Easter but no news from Tipperary

Happy Easter to you all from a cold and rainy Tipperary. This is a bit of a non-news blog as I don’t have much in the way of news from Tipperary. A lot of things are in progress but I’ve decided I need a week off so I’m sending you all good wishes but no news yet.

Thank you and I hope to see you next week when I may have some news from Tipperary!

Happy St Patrick’s Day to you all!

Well, today is St Patrick’s Day, a day of parades, celebration and general cheer in Ireland, and many other countries. Evidence of the imminent party was clear around the country with flags flying, banners out and a host of events advertised. It is our fourth St Patrick’s here in Ireland and each one has been different. The first was under lockdown and the most festive we got was the consumption of a range of cakes, most of them layered in green icing. The next year was marked by the repeated firing of a shotgun just over the road as a local farmer roared around in a digger. A rather odd way to celebrate, we thought. Last year was quite a warm day and passed off peacefully. We wait to see what today brings, especially after the success of the Irish rugby team yesterday.

We’ve been out and about these last few weeks, the first time since we arrived. For our first trip we went to Cork. My Irish ancestors came from a small village in Co. Cork and I was curious to explore the area. Jacqui found a very nice looking holiday let that was willing to take all three dogs, once the host saw how small and cute looking they were. It was a bit of a journey as Cork, in common with much of rural Ireland, doesn’t seem to believe in signposts. Hooray for Google maps and eircodes – they saved the day.

The Bird House was everything Shelley, our host, had promised and more. It is warm, welcoming and decently equipped, with comfortable beds and a huge sofa the dogs loved. We set to and covered said sofa with the throws we’d packed and made ourselves at home. The (very big) TV had Netflix, a novelty for us, and there were books to read and a pool table and bar on the ground floor.

The weather was not quite as welcoming however and turned very windy and stormy overnight. As the forecast was more of the same for the next few days we decided to try a trip to Ballinhassig without delay, to see if I could find any trace of long-lost family. The route took us over the striking bridge to Kinsale, a town lauded as a beautiful place and gourmet heaven. We didn’t tarry however and probably the rain and wind didn’t show it at its best. As far as gourmet heaven went, we found a Lidl up the hill and picked up some supplies. Not quite gourmet but the food quality was extremely good, as it generally is with supermarket chains having contracts with local producers.

Ballinhassig itself is tiny. Like much of Ireland, the name refers to the village, the two parishes, church and civil, and a chunk of land around too. For a novice without detailed information this is extremely confusing. We stopped at the Gala Supermarket and An Post where a very kind woman put us in touch with Mary, the parish secretary. She had some very useful tips for us and after another Google map we were ready to set off. The few records I’d been able to find refer to my great grandfather’s baptism and this was apparently at the church in Goggin’s Hill. It was locked but we walked around the outside. The graveyard, always a good source of information, was relatively modern Mary said. Any relatives were probably in Ballinaboy, which was several miles away. That’s a trip for next time. We did find a famine memorial on the wall surrounding the church. My great grandfather would have been about eight or nine when he lived through that – a sobering thought.

Jacqui had a look around the Gala Supermarket before we left and discovered local cakes being delivered, still a bit warm from the oven. They were from “Louise’s Kitchen” and they are absolutely heavenly. It was getting cold and raining quite heavily but I wanted some pictures of the famous Fairy Garden, a playground across the road. I dropped into The Kabin, a café and coffee shop opposite and got Jacqui a coffee to keep her warm in the car whilst I ran around the little park. The coffee was as good as the cakes and the food I saw being served looked excellent too. The Kabin has a small library around the side walls as Ballinhassig is too small to have a branch of its own. I left a copy of “Puppy Brain” as a thank you for all the kindness shown by this little community.

The weather deteriorated further the next day and we stayed in, rested and indulged in some more Netflix. Despite the unseasonable storm we had a very happy stay and can recommend The Bird House to any visitor. Shelley is a lovely host and her two children loved the dogs, visiting a couple of times. We had booked this through Air BnB, our first encounter with this company and I sincerely hope it’s our last. The whole business was confusing and obstructive and they almost cancelled our stay despite the fact we’d paid in full and just wanted the address. No address without downloading the app apparently. Jacqui worked her way around this, thank goodness, and we saw we could use another site next time. Shelley was a marvelous host, it’s a lovely place and not well served by Air BnB at all in my opinion.

Now we are back, recovering from the journey and looking forward to spring and all that brings. Our mower is away being serviced but on its return we will start work on the land again. We can now walk right round the wood without breaking an ankle and are hoping to select our new trees for the cleared land next week. The trees in the orchard are starting to show signs of life with tiny buds on the branches. And last week I opened the back door to find a young frog on the step. Yes, it’s St Patrick’s Day and spring is finally on the way.

Thank you for reading, a happy St Patrick’s to you wherever you are, and I hope to see you again in a couple of weeks.

Is it spring yet? Oh, I hope so!

Like most of you, we’ve found this last winter a bit wearing. It’s not been too cold here – nothing like last year when the whole water system froze solid for a week. But it has been stormy, costing us five trees damaged or down in the wood. This is apart from the one damaged by a neighbour whilst taking a heavy hand to his own trees. And it has been wet! Rain, followed by more rain. Then fog and fine drizzle (“mizzle” in north-east parlance), with some heavy rain interspersed with showers. As a result we are surrounded by a sea of mud. Except for the overflowing pond of course. How we are longing for spring!

We’ve been watching this anxiously for several reasons. Firstly the damage to local infrastructure, especially the roads, is considerable. Most roads, small rural winding ones and supposedly main highways, are pitted with holes. The ground is saturated and the water runs off the surrounding land with nowhere to go except across the surface. Our little road, nicely resurfaced just over a year ago, is virtually impassable at one end now.

The loss of trees and undergrowth allowed water to sweep away a lot of the top layer and the heavy farm machinery has ripped large and deep holes in places. There are several areas where only a tractor can pass safely as the damage stretches over most of the road. Apparently it took over twenty years to get this half of the road repaired (the other half was not done but is in better shape now). I have little hope we will get any help with this given the desperate state of many other areas. We have one way in and out and drive very, very carefully at the moment.

Our other concern was getting some more trees planted in time. Apparently its okay to plant up to the end of March but once spring comes new saplings will struggle. With everything waterlogged we were not sure we’d be able to benefit from the clearing done in a dry few days last month. Still, you have to take a leap of faith sometimes so when Fergus our lovely tree man introduced us to Donal, a nurseryman, we decided to forge ahead. It took a bit of driving around to find the nursery but it was certainly worth it and we selected seven trees and some raspberry canes to start our new orchard. We were not willing to spray weed killer over the land, standard practise it seems. Instead Donal will return and rotavate round the trees before sowing “domestic” grass. Then it’s down to us to keep it trimmed.

March 1st is the official start of spring and the weather decided to celebrate this fact by giving us our first snow for a year. We were a bit worried about the baby trees but they’ve been raised outside and are just fine. We celebrated the arrival of spring by lighting the fire in the snug and staying in. I had a beautiful jigsaw for Christmas, the “Rainbow of Birds”, which kept me happily amused for several weeks.

I had some great news last week. The Northern Tibetan Spaniel Club are running a stand at Crufts this year and Scot Lemon asked if he could sell my book, “Puppy Brain”. Of course I said “Yes please!” I can’t sign them, obviously, but each copy comes with a signed picture (two of the dogs, not me) and a bookmark. If you are around on Thursday do drop in. There are some great items on sale and Scot is a fountain of knowledge for this lovely if tricky breed.

Finally I have a request to make. For a number of years I have worked with the remarkable Alex Lewczuk on a number of broadcasts both in Teesside and for Siren FM in Lincoln. The university hold the FM license and have decided to cancel it, effectively closing a valued educational resource and a popular community radio station. If you can would you add your name to the petition to save Siren Radio? It costs nothing and would be very much appreciated.

https://chng.it/6LtJPtXTtc

Thank you for reading and I hope to see you all again in a couple of weeks.
Keep warm, drive safely and here’s to spring!

To the wood, to the wood!

Despite the continuing atrocious weather a lot of these last few weeks have been spent outdoors. Firstly, we needed to do something about the wood pile. It’s a blessing in these cold winter months but it needs careful handling. Originally almost ten feet high and about six feet deep, we’ve burrowed into it for the past few years. Finally the big blue tarp slid off and the rain – oh so much rain – got in. A lot of the wood was soaked and a surprising amount began to sprout a range of fungi. As our stove is in urgent need of a service, this made lighting the fire increasingly difficult.

After several failed experiments we finally managed to haul the cover back up onto a large area and fastened it over the side wall. Not perfect but an improvement. We are hoping to get a proper lean-to built in the spring ready for the fresh wood from the fallen trees. In the meantime we play “wood Jenga” several times a week, using a rake to dislodge logs without bringing the whole lot down on us. Well, it adds some excitement to the winter days.

I’ve come to the conclusion woodmen are like buses. You wait a year for one and then three come along all at once. The redoubtable Fergus arrived last month to make the road margins and back of the wood safe, producing a huge pile of timber to be split and stored in the autumn. He also gave some good advice about tree nurseries and the planting we have in mind, but this depends on clearing more of the land. As usual, finding someone to do the job has been difficult, especially as a lot of it is close to being waterlogged. Well, let’s be honest, much of it is waterlogged. There’s also the problem of access to the bit at the rear with no easy way to get a digger up there.

I decided to try John, the man who cleared some of the wood for us in the first year. He also set up the impressive stone “monument” in the wood. Well, he’s down there now, clearing the centre ready for a new planting of colourful trees in the next few weeks. He also carved out and gravelled a ramp to the back so now a mini (1.5 ton!) digger and the mower can travel up safely. He’s coming back in the summer to work on our pond, something that is now much more urgent following all the rain.

After the brutal “trimming” of the land over the road there was nothing to stop the opposite pond overflowing and it has flooded across the road. A lot of excess water is now trapped and turning stagnant on our border and our little pond is flowing back over part of our wood. This has serious consequences for the infrastructure as, much to our surprise, the cable layers for the broadband network turned up to lay the fibre connections. This is a national roll-out and we were told it would be soon – in 2025.

Alas, it is not possible to lay the cables due to the water and so they left again. The very helpful Alan Mead suggested they would maybe put up poles in the future. We are still without a landline and rely on our patchy mobile signals which is not very reassuring in the case of emergencies. We must wait and see.

Fergus also managed to put us in touch with Donal who will clear the back and plant a small orchard of mixed fruit trees for us. We will be going to the nursery later this week to talk to an expert and select our trees, which Donal will collect for us. There was apparently an orchard there before but it was gone by the time we moved in. Now the land has lain fallow for some years and should be ready for replanting. There has been some water ingress in the Majestic again, flowing down the slope from the neighbouring fields. Donal will use the excess soil to build a ramp across the back which should reduce, if not remove, this problem.

We are not expecting to get much of the fruit from our trees, especially in the early years. I expect the birds will have quite a lot, though we are putting in a crab apple just for them. The trees will also encourage and feed bees and if we add a nut tree we may even get some squirrels.

So the wood is much lighter now and when we add the new trees will look a lot less bare. Happily there’s some expert advice on hand to make sure we raise happy, healthy trees with space to grow and flourish. I know we will probably not be around to see it all in its glory but others will enjoy them. And the wildlife in the wood will always have a good amount of food, undergrowth and shelter through the years as we will leave a fair proportion of it semi-wild. It’s a very small area but every tree matters and we are determined to make it a vibrant and living space.

Thank you for reading. Here’s to the end of winter and a brighter spring for us all.

I hope to see you in two weeks time.

Memories are made of fish (and other things)

This last week we passed four years since the UK officially exited the EU and like many people our lives were never going to be the same again. Unlike a lot of people, we took a rather more drastic turn, leaving our home of almost forty years behind us. There have been a lot of changes in our lives. The seemingly endless struggle with the infrastructure, for example. The weather, which is generally milder but certainly wetter than England. Many things are more expensive in Ireland though lots, especially the food, are of a better quality than in the UK. On the plus side we have space, off-road parking and an abundance of birds plants and wildlife.

So where does the fish come in? We were surprised to find the fish over here is simply stupendous. We have a “local” fishmonger who can produce a full side of salmon caught only a few days ago. All his produce is excellent and caught off the West Coast. It also comes with a generous handful of samphire grass, added gratis by Mr Daly who also has (amongst others) excellent cod, mussels and mackerel and makes very good fish cakes. Last week we indulged in some sea bass, a fish we know well from our travels in the past, and it brought back memories of the last time we were in Greece. As we don’t fly, the journey was part of the holiday and we set off on the tiny local train from Saltburn, heading for the Ionian Islands, at stupid-o’clock in the morning. The excellent rail service got us to Lausanne for the night and then on to Ancona where we were catching the ferry to Patras.

Italian trains are very fast and very comfortable – if you travel first class. This is not something we do normally but earlier experiences led us to this extravagance. Second class carriages are crowded and even reserving (and paying for) a seat means nothing to many passengers. I swear the corridors are awash with nuns, all dragging babies and children with them – orphan “bambinis” – and the refusal to give up your place leads to much pushing and angry muttering from those around. The nuns try but rarely succeed in their attempts to infiltrate first class and it is possible to sit quietly and admire the scenery. Every hour or so a steward comes round and places something on the table – a bottle of water, some biscuits, a newspaper, in Italian of course.

We caught our ferry the next day after a riotous evening in Ancona that would fill another blog on its own. We finally arrived on Kefalonia, at the wrong end of the island for our accommodation. There were no taxis. We were saved from a very long and hot walk by the fabulous Batistatou Sisters. I know they sound like a dodgy singing group but they have a car rental business on the dock and dug up a Fiat 650 convertible for us. We called her Penelope and despite her size she coped admirably with the roads and hills of the island. She even took us to Zakynthos on the local ferry so we could visit old friends there.

There was a lot about parts of Kefalonia we didn’t like, especially our first room in Skala. I cannot recommend Skala in any way at all. It was overhyped, dirty, crowded and noisy yet managed to have nothing to do. On returning from Zakynthos we moved up the coast to the Green Bay Bungalows (not bungalows but much nicer then Skala!) and explored the top end of the island. Here we had lunch one day, seated on a walkway across the water. Shoals of fish flitted through the water below us including sea bass. The freshest, most beautiful sea bass I’ve ever tasted.

Our sea bass came from a company in Galway, discovered by Jacqui and now a mainstay in our shopping. Every Tuesday their web site, “Eat more Fish” lists what’s available for delivery on Thursday or Friday. Along with sea bass and bream we’ve had monkfish, cod, line-caught squid, oysters, smoked roe, kippers and even lobsters for a special occasion. Everything is packed in ice and driven to the door, still frozen. There are some problems with deliveries up here but this is one company that has never let us down. We always have a selection of fish in the freezer and it is always stunningly good.

The sea bass evoked happy memories of our Greek trip and also visits to Bern in Switzerland. Here we sat by the Aare river at the “Schwellenmatteli” and watched them pull our lunch out – fresh perch from the glacial waters. We have done some epic journeys over the years and are fortunate to have those memories to share. We’re probably not up to the 1,000 kilometre drives any more, nor the rigours of some of the places we’ve stayed (Mme Cockroach anyone? The beds that tried to eat us at the Golden Lion?) Despite this the knowledge and the images stay with us, and the food still evokes many smiles.

This year we plan to explore a bit more of our new home, starting with the area of Cork where my Irish ancestors came from. Jacqui has found a place by the sea that will accept our three dogs and we are really looking forward to it. It’s a chance to see something new, maybe meet new people and rest a bit too. So here’s to fish – and happy memories.

Thank you for reading and I hope to see you back in a couple of weeks.

Thoughts on these past three years

From September to mid January we seem to have a lot of anniversaries. Some more recent than others, some shared and some more private, they all mark steps in our lives. Jacqui has a couple of medical anniversaries for example, having dodged the bullets of cancer and heart attacks in the past years. For some reason we always seem to move in December so our personal anniversary is December 1st, when we moved together to Somerset. Then we upped sticks for Cleveland five years later, also in December. Our most recent move was three years ago when we made the major shift across the Irish Sea. We arrived in fearful weather, exhausted and with most of our possessions locked down 10 kilometers away, on December 9th. This, all mingling with Christmas, New Year and Jacqui’s birthday.

A little birthday dinner

It is now almost three years since we moved into our present house, now well on the way to being transformed into a home. A lot has changed since then, not least as we are getting older and suddenly things that were easy become a bit more problematic. The pattern of our lives has changed over this time and I was struck this week by the tasks we undertake routinely that we never gave a thought to in England. We love the house and the land around it but it is demanding in time and effort. With no central services the responsibility for everything from fuel to rubbish collection rests on us. We have main electricity (most of the time) but nothing else. In fact as I write Storm Isha is gearing up around us and we’ve had three small power-outs already. So happy I have a laptop now!

As our land borders a public road we have a responsibility to maintain the trees and keep it clear and safe. Not that you’d think it was a proper road. Barely ten feet wide and covered in mud from all the farm traffic, even most locals think it is a farm track. Still, we take it seriously and our arborist, Fergus, called a while back to advise us. He was finally able to come back and do the work last week. This is the second big trim in our three years and there were six unsafe trees in all. Three were inside the wood – tall growing poplars that had developed quite a severe lean. They, along with the three along the roadside were removed properly and the wood is now piled up to start drying.

The next season’s logs

Fergus will be back in the autumn to split the logs and help us rebuild the woodpile. One of our new jobs is bringing in the wood for the fire, about twice a week at this time of year. Getting the logs down is interesting at present as the pile is still tall but we’ve used a lot of the front so we have to pull some down, preferably without causing an avalanche. It takes at least two cart loads to fill the bin in the front porch and then the wood is stacked in batches around the stove to remove any lingering damp. There is an old adage – logs keep you warm three times. Once when you cut them, once when you stack and bring them in and once when you burn them. It’s quite physical work but the warmth generated by the stove is wonderful. The snug certainly lives up to its name!

Cold January sunrise

We wanted to mark our first three years in Ireland and so last night had a few local friends over for dinner. It was a delight and such a pleasure to have good company and good food. I can’t claim any credit for the food – Jacqui did wonders in the kitchen over the previous week. We were actually quite glad it has been so wintery as the fridge soon filled up. The back room, a grooming room and utility space, is very cold in January. I put a thermometer on the bench and found it was the same temperature as the fridge so for the last couple of days we could keep items from the chiller cabinets out there quite safely. It was a delight to sit around the table, talking, sipping wine and nibbling on leftovers again.

Life is different here and there are a lot of things we need to do that other people did in England, especially in relation to essential services. Next week we have our scheduled bin and recycling run – a 32 kilometer round trip. I’m still looking for a routine that fits in with writing again and that is one of my main aims this year. Despite the challenges however we are happy here. It has been an adventurous and interesting three years despite the steep learning curve and occasional mishaps. As they say round here, “Every day is a school day”. Well, new challenges help keep you young. I only wish my joints knew that!

Thank you for reading. Keep safe and warm and I hope to be back in a couple of weeks.

Goodbye to 2023 and here’s to a better 2024

As the year grinds to an ending I offer an apology for my several absences this year. This last month especially I’ve not written anything though a fair amount has happened. Well, I say a heartfelt goodbye to 2023, which ends with a bang – several bangs actually. About six weeks ago I fell backwards off a ladder whilst cleaning out the gutters on the Majestic. I miscounted the steps down and as I was wearing bifocals (yes, time is definitely catching up with me) didn’t focus properly on the ground. The ladder came down too and Jacqui caught it before it could land on me though she got a bruised arm and it did dent my shin. It left me with a stiff right shoulder and neck and a bump on the head so I was a bit more cautious for a few days.

Not cautious enough I fear. The weather turned very cold at the start of December and one morning I was hurrying out to herd the dogs in first thing clad once more in red clogs and a yellow dressing gown. The ground was wet as it was raining so I didn’t expect any ice. Alas, one of the new paving stone was frozen, my foot went up like a cartoon character and I flew backwards onto the gravel of the new soak away. This time my left shoulder took the brunt of the fall, along with the base of my spine. I realized when I tried to stand up I’d hit my head again as I was very dizzy. Time had certainly caught up with me and we were heading for the doctor – and then the hospital.

Thus I ended 2023 with a bruised spine, a torn rotor cuff, sprains and strained ligaments and mild concussion. I can now sit down without flinching and have had a steroid injection in my shoulder. The neck whiplash is much better though my balance is still uncertain. So it is a stern goodbye to 2023 from me!

Overall this has been a rather dreary year as far as the weather is concerned. They say it rains every day in Ireland, though not in the same places. Well, since the 10 days in June when the sun shone it’s rained here every day. The land is completely waterlogged and unworkable and the high winds and winter storms have loosened some of the more fragile trees. A couple of smaller boundary trees have blown over, though fortunately into the wood rather than out onto the road or adjoining fields.

We are so glad the kitchen roof is repaired, even if it did cost 40% more than we were quoted. I must add a special thanks to Robbie who reset the guttering properly once they’d gone. The roof men left a big gap under the tiles that would have caught the wind and ripped it all off again. Fair to say I won’t be recommending them to anyone else. The whole of 2023 reminded me of a story by Ray Bradbury, set on Mars where it rains all year apart from one day. The callous children locked one girl in a cupboard on that day so she never saw the sun. We feel like that poor girl!

It’s not been all gloom however. We’ve had some lovely visitors, including my sister who ventured over the Irish Sea for the first time. We are part of a remote quiz group and have made some friends through that too. The Majestic is taking shape and now has some benches and shelves, mainly fashioned by Jacqui from the old roof battens. She’s also been crocheting up a storm making blankets, little bags and pots, boot socks and a range of multicoloured beanie hats. She even made a coffee cosy for my cafetiere. A local friend does some work for a dog rescue group and a lot of these items are destined for their fundraising stall.

We are looking forwards to the next year, hoping for some health improvements and maybe a bit more energy. The house is being knocked into shape gradually and in 2024 we would like to replace the small orchard that was on the land at the back. Nothing spectacular, just a dozen mixed trees for the birds and us initially. We’ve had sterling support from a number of local people, which helps make life so much easier. There are a couple of ways we hope to give something back in 2024.

Well, a short summing up at the end of a slightly strange year. I hope your 2023 was better and wish you all a happy, healthy and prosperous 2024.

Thank you for reading and I promise I’ll try to get back to the 2-week format!

Tired, incoherent and still standing. Yeah!

Please forgive me if this episode is a bit incoherent – and maybe a little shorter than usual. It has been a very interesting few weeks culminating in our ‘flu and covid jabs on Friday. We had hoped that after a number of rounds our bodies would have become reconciled to the vaccines but we were sadly mistaken. Maybe it is the combination. Maybe it is the fact we are both fairly knackered at present. Whatever the reason, the effects have been rather grim. On the plus side, the worst impact is wearing off now and neither of us can risk getting really sick so I’m glad we have this protection for the winter. Short term pain but long term gain, I think.

A lot of the time prior to last Friday was taken up with the water system again. The Majestic was starting to flood once more, first from the back wall as excess water seeped in by the pipes. We’re not certain what caused this though the farmer who is the other user of the well was pulling a great deal of water and much of the ingress was from round his pipe and meter. Once this was resolved it all settled down again until I went in and found the inside of the shed dripping – literally. The cement eaves above the new system were soaked and we suspected the gutters were overflowing so out came the ladder and up I went.

Certainly the gutters were packed with leaf litter and there was a nasty bend just above the door preventing a proper flow. Using a small rake and my hands I cleared most of it. Hosing out the downspout cleared that and Jacqui fashioned some wooden blocks to realign the worst of the bend. Then just as we were finishing I missed a step on the way down and fell flat on my back onto the gravel drive. The ladder followed and I would probably be writing this with a broken leg if Jacqui hadn’t managed to grab it on the way down. She suffered a nasty bruise on her arm and I’ve a dent in my shin where it finally landed but it could have been so much worse.

Despite our best efforts however the shed was soaked again two days later. This time I had a good look at the system and found there was no water in the softener, just salt. Following the lines back I spotted a pipe that had blown off one of the tanks. The water pressure was building up and spraying over the wall, roof and almost half of the interior. Like many problems, the solution was stupidly simple once I spoke to the engineers. A small plastic clip had come loose so the pipe was not fastened properly. I found the clip several feet away under a bench, refastened it and so far all seems well. I do go out and check it several times a day however, just in case.

We’ve had a few drier days recently and the ground is not as sodden as it has been. The swans are happy with their pond, despite the smashed tree that is still lodged in the water. The winter birds are returning to the garden and eating everything they can find at the moment. They even consumed half an old fruit cake we’d forgotten about. As it had a considerable amount of brandy in it I wonder if they are weaving through the trees and waking up with tiny hangovers… Jacqui has done a clear out of the baking press and is mixing all the old dried fruit, nuts and cereals into tasty and nutritious bird cake as a healthier alternative!

Another uninvited “guest”

The colder weather has also encouraged more wildlife to chance their arm in the warm. There is a huge spider lurking next to the light switch in the Majestic. As I don’t want to get bitten, or to squash it, I’m now using a head torch on my hat when I go out in the dark. We’ve also had a colony of tiny field mice in one of the cupboards. They are coming in somewhere in the utility room and seem to be confined to the boiler cupboard. I don’t like killing anything but we can’t let mice get a foothold (paw hold?) in the house. I won’t use poisons as this can kill so many other animals and birds so I’ve some highly effective traps in there. So far I’ve caught 2 live and quite healthy specimens I took up the road and released. In addition I’ve disposed of 11 more in the wood, dead. They all vanish overnight so probably feed the feral/farm cats or the pine marten. I console myself with the thought it is the “circle of life”.

Up Kildangen!

It’s the end of the GGA sports season here and everyone takes the play-offs and championships very seriously. There are county flags flying from gates and posts as well as the colours of all the local teams. When we arrived we stayed in Puckane and their local team, Kildangan, had just won the Nationals. There were yellow and blue signs everywhere and one house even had a line of small rocks painted alternate colours along the boundary. This time some enterprising local has produced a minion bin dressed as a Kildangan hurler. I think they get the prize for best decoration this year.

Well, it’s been a rather chequered few weeks and I’m getting tired again now so will stop before I do become incoherent. Sending all good wishes to you and thank you for reading.

Take care everyone and see you in a couple of weeks.