We take ourselves up to Fairhead, Ben Mór, one of our favourite walks, for a little quiet togetherness; it’s a soft day, the views blurred by mizzle and the sounds dampened in the mist. The sheep stare at us and hurry off the path as we make our way towards the edge. A couple of ravens are patrolling the cliff and we find our spot; looking straight out to Rue point on Rathlin island, Scotland to the right and the Causeway Coast stretching out to the left, Inishowen hidden in the drizzle. The vast expanse of beautiful blue ocean is calming, bringing perspective.
It was the equinox this week, a pivotal point in the calendar, marking the equal length of day and night. I celebrated with a swim after work, trying to bring attention to deep inward contemplation and self-reflection. The wheel of the year is turning towards darkness, where did I want to be at Winter Solstice? What should I focus on? What have I achieved? I float on my back, letting the current gently move me, watching the clouds overhead, not quite getting clarity. Suddenly I become aware of someone shouting from the shore. I swim towards the beach, then see they are waving me in…
No, it wasn’t Jaws, rather the EColi alert that had been temporarily issued the week before (for 2 days), now thankfully long gone. I appreciated that someone was looking out for me, people are kind but the interruption broke my concentration. When I got home, I poured a glass of wine and drank it while checking the plants in the polytunnel, I picked some basil and a baby courgette for my pizza topping. The week of warm weather has given a much-needed energy boost to the vegetables before things start to slow down in the while.
I’ve been struggling with setting my intentions for the season ahead; like the weather it seems a little blurry and unclear. But I do know that I want to teach people more about food, focussing in on that Soil to Soul journey which many of us are detached from. I envisage fun, interactive classes, based on the absolute joy and beauty of food. I’ve scheduled a few (here) and can’t wait to welcome people to our space.
The Autumn Equinox is an important time to ‘harvest’ our gratitude and recognise the abundance of positivity in our lives, it’s a lovely practice to celebrate achievements and growth, even if you’re a little late to it. I think we all can squirm a bit at talking about these things but can’t we be proud without arrogance? I’m happy to shout about all the wonderful things in my life, even if it feels a bit awkward, especially if it encourages you to so the same. I think it works best as a quick excercise without a huge amount of soul delving!
My family and Friends
Having three wild children who continually help shape my understanding of the world, test me daily, bring wonderment and the endless craic.
I am so lucky to have an incredibly supportive, kind, fun, talented, clever, hilarious and loving family (and in laws)
Over the past few months we have been visited by some of our dearest friends from across the world and celebrated the weddings and new babies of others, it’s a privilege to be part of their lives.
We’ve made wonderful new friends and nurtured other friendships many times over with dinners at each other’s houses and pints in the pub.
Farraige girls
We’ve been swimming weekly for over a year, it’s often the highlight of the week; always more than a swim, sisterhood, warmth (not from the water!) and love.
Work
Always hugely thankful for our amazing team of staff
Our ever supportive and encouraging community, we love you
Over the past 6 months we’ve won Best Café at the Irish Restaurant Awards, hosted incredible chefs in collaborative dinners, we’ve raised money for charity (amount pending) catered special events and launched the bakery school…oh that’s why I’m exhausted!
Our land and nature
I will never take our land and wildlife for granted, we are so lucky to live on such a beautiful island, I love her head to toe (and side to side!). Especially grateful for my soul place Connemara, gorgeous Donegal, my heart and homeplace the North Coast and seeing the Aurora Borealis for the first time.
Growing and Access to food & the ability to cook
This should be a human right but of course it’s not. I’m still in awe that my seeds turned into plants and gave me food, that we have space and a garden to enjoy and let wildlife thrive.
Accesss to incredible produce; Rhee River and Broughgammon keep our home and the bakery stocked with seasonal vegetables throughout the year.
Being able to cook with fresh, local produce and make nutritious, nourishing meals for my family and communtiy
Books, music & the Incidentals
I love to read and the past six months I’ve read some gorgeous pages from cookery books to non fiction to novels. I’ve just finished Ruby Free’s Rathlin A Wild Life and loved hearing about her adventure on the island. I am curretnly absolutely loving ‘A La Mesa’ from The Little Cooking Pot.
Music is a constant, whether it’s the fast paced punk of my youth, the traditional ballads for sombre days or the lovely albums we enjoy on repeat.
Those incidental things that make me smile; the honesty box full of apples, the customer bringing a pastry from Bordeaux or the farmer making this beautiful little corner.
Whilst we refelect on these wonderful things we must never forget the hardships of others, the mess and injustices of the planet and the struggles we all have daily.
Tin Bucket, Jenny George
The world is not simple.
Anyone will tell you.
But have you ever washed a person’s hair
over a tin bucket,
gently twisting the rope of it
to wring the water out?
At the end of everything,
dancers just use air as their material.
A voice keeps singing even
without an instrument.
You make your fingers into a comb.