It’s Spring at last, which means here on the farm it’s also time to tend to the bees and plant the fruit trees.  We made our way down to the wood over the weekend to check on our sweet honey bees whom, much to our delight, survived the long winter freeze and were gleefully buzzing about their hives. It also just happened to be the most splendid, sunny day and as I glanced around at the blossoming buttercups and wild garlic leaves popping up through the ground, I couldn’t help but ponder: isn’t life sweet?

Many Irish bees did not survive this winter, which was seemingly never-ending and brutally cold. But, our bees persevered as if they knew something really good was to come. And like us, they hunkered down and waited for things to brighten up. We must remember, things always do turn the corner. A day or two of good weather can be absolutely transformative on the farm. You look around and suddenly grass is greener, new calves are being born, a carrot seed has sprouted, your little boy has learned to pedal his tractor, and the bees start making their sweet honey.

A family of bees will only swarm around the sweet stuff.  And much like the bees, we tend to drift towards our own type of delicious nectar.  Even though I may not be out milking cows and checking the chickens, I am all for beekeeping, market gardening and lest I forget, helping my husband with his aspirations for growing hops to use in his experimental craft brewing. You see, for us, the “sweet stuff” lies in what we can create together on the farm as a family.  I have to say that there is nothing more fulfilling (not to mention, no easier way to get your kids to eat veg) than spending an afternoon teaching your toddler how to help mummy and daddy plant seeds in your kitchen garden.  And nothing, and I mean, nothing, tastes better than using your very own tasty honey in your morning porridge.

Years ago, Irish farm beekeepers used to say,  “A swarm in May is worth a speck of hay. A swarm in June is worth a silver spoon, and a swarm in July isn’t worth a fly”. This old adage could also translate to something like this: if you wait too long to start creating and enjoying the sweet joys of farm life, you’ll really be missing out on some very special things.  After all, isn’t it the “sweet stuff” that makes farming all worth it in the end?

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Tags: beekeeping, craft brewing, farm, gardening, honey bees, Irish, Life, love, sweet

Yes, you read that correctly. That is indeed the correct title of this blog post. Now, imagine my surprise to learn that our little parish has been historically known to have women morphing into hares by night and kids dressing up as their opposite sex counterparts on occasion.  Strange, but I must admit it made me feel a little more “at home”…I mean what’s more American than Playboy bunnies and cross dressing club kids…very urban…very cosmopolitan, no?

On a closer examination, I learned that this countryside cross dressing/hare morphing was of a different ilk, which was initially disappointing, but became far more interesting as I listened to the cacophony of stories about “May Eve” and all of the beliefs attached to it. Pishoguery, coaxioriums, changelings, faeries and perhaps the most fabulous and sensational: real women who transform into hares and run around wildly about the land. {without a doubt, a talent I would most certainly love to have}

Now, we all know that Ireland has it’s fair share of lore and such, but I had no idea that many of these teachings still have a valid place in modern countryside society and that furthermore many traditions around those beliefs are still practiced in our tiny village. In fact, I was only just informed yesterday that our entire farm is sprinkled with holy water each year on “May Eve” to ward off Pishoguery and other spirits.

Allow me to explain. May Eve is the evening of May 1^st and on this evening it is said that a certain type of sorcery transpires in which female evil-doers called “pishogues” come round and do their best to make people’s lives miserable in one way or another.  The pishogues would do things such as lay eggs, bread, meats and other consumable items on another’s land and it is believed that by doing so it would somehow rob the riches from that farm and be transferred onto the pishogue’s estate. Now, let me be clear-these pishogues were real people; neighbours, churchgoers and everyone knew who they were. Real people who were known to be sort of possessed by the devil and forced into doing these dreadful acts.  This pishoguery basically put the fear of God in people and villagers began sprinkling holy water on their homes, livestock, farmyards, machinery….everything and anything to ward off this evil on May Eve. (I hate to say it, but it kinda sorta reminds me of what seemed to happen whenever the Avon lady would come calling in the neighborhood where I lived as a child.)

It doesn’t end with the Pishogues, May Eve offers still more unusual events and characters. There would be faeries flitting about who were known to capture the little boys from farms and change them into their own offspring, i.e. “changelings”. In order to prevent their children from being taken, families dressed up their boys as girls to fool the faeries. Apparently, girls were no good to them.  This meant that it wouldn’t be uncommon to see little boys dressed as girls walking about the village or going to church on the first of May; and nobody would give them a second look. Oh, how times have changed.…

Of course, no May Eve would be complete without a story involving the ubiquitous “love potion”.  Yes, coaxioriums were popular on this evening as well {LOVE the word coaxiorium-despite the fact that I can’t say it out loud}. Allegedly, if a woman made an advance on a man and was rejected she would slip him a potion and he’d come around. After this act, the people in the community would comment that she must have gave him the coaxiorium. Nowadays, it seems it’s the men who need their own secret little potion of one type or another…..

My absolute favourite is the whole business of women who had the power to turn into hares. They would morph into wild rabbit hares and go out during that day or evening and get into all kinds of mischief and then return home and have a cup of tea as if nothing had happened. Often times, a person would come across a lady’s dress and shoes lying near a hedge and they would take no notice, assuming that she had likely changed into a hare and was just out galavanting in the field.  Forgive me, but I would take great pleasure in that type of behaviour…imagine, if you will, gathering all of your best girlfriends, changing yourselves into hares and having a mad little tea party in the Irish countryside with all of the hedgehogs and red foxes.

So there you have it, May Eve, cross dressing and wild women hares in the country. While this all seems a bit Twilight Zone-y to me, many of these accounts have credible witnesses and are steeped in traditions that have stood the test of time. So now I know that in Kilcolman, we sprinkle our holy water to be safe and all I can say is: what’s good for the gander…

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Tags: changelings, cross dressing, fairies, foxes, hares, hedgehogs, ireland, Kilcolman, May Eve, pishogue, rabbit, sorcery, tea party, wild

Dress by Eilis Boyle, photographed by Peter Evers

As serendipity would have it, I quite unexpectedly discovered Eilis whilst browsing through blogs curled up by a fire one quiet country evening. A blogger had made the comment that a person by the name of “Silent Storyteller” whom {years earlier} had spent an evening of dance with someone who was also a mutual friend of mine. This bit of irony strongly piqued my curiousity and I wanted to know more. I clicked on the hyperlink and was welcomed to her blog, which is, in essence, not really a blog as much as it is a work of art….it’s own special world of whimsy, intimately filled with remarkable fashion imagery and inspirational prose.  And, as if that wasn’t enough to utterly sate your senses, you realize that the real story behind the Silent Storyteller is that she is a world-class designer living in Ireland.

Eilis graciously took the time to share a little bit about herself for my blog and for that I am much obliged….and perhaps you shall be as well. Enjoy.

Tell us about your exotic upbringing and your Irish roots…

My Spanish mother met my Irish father in London in the 60’s and decided to travel the world. I was born in the Caribbean and spent the first years of my life hopping from one country to another, living in places as diverse as Bolivia and Japan. I settled in Spain as a teenager where I trained in fashion in Madrid. After a few more years of travel I decided to move to Ireland in 2001.

What do you love about Ireland?

There is something magical about being isolated. From a creative point of view you are not exposed to the trends and undercurrents that occur in cities like London, New York and Paris. One’s ideas evolve from within and are authentic.

I have made a great group of friends with similar mind set, most of who left at some stage and have come back. It’s a great place to have a small business and with the internet the world is at your feet, no matter where you are now.

How would you describe your design sensibility and your collections?

I try to make collections that will stand the test of time, investment pieces. I love how in the past, like jewelry, that dresses were also passed down from one generation to another. This would be the ultimate dream for me as a designer, that  creations are so valued that they are kept for decades.

What inspires you?

Everything and anything… I’m inspired everyday, all day.  Fabric, colour, travel, music, people, movies, books …and the list goes on and on

How would you define your own personal style?

Quite, comfortable and repetitive…if I like something I will buy three of the same thing and wear them until they fall apart…. Always in black, always in cashmere. I guess working around clothes all the time you do become slightly immune and dare I say indifferent. I hardly get excited when I see clothes…unless that is  I go to Rick Owens’ store in Paris or when I would see any of the late McQueen’s collections. I’ve just revived a hat obsession I had years ago. I love hats and I love shoes…

Which Irish designers do you admire?

There is a legion of incredibly talented designers at the moment in Ireland. Above all, John Rocha, not only in creativity but also in his ability to have a very successful business, internationally, despite living here.

Current Irish designers I also love are Sharon Wauchob, Tim Ryan, and Helen James

Do you source your fabrics and materials in Ireland?

Unfortunately I don’t source any fabrics here, unless you work with Aran qualities, some tweed and linen there is very limited, if almost any, fabric production left. It is quite sad but it’s the reality…Most of my material and yarns come from Scotland, France and Italy.

Would you ever consider living on a farm and having a country atelier?

I would love to have a country atelier. I grow my own vegetables at the moment so the idea of having more space, animals and more isolation would be wonderful… my only condition would be to live within an hour of an international airport. It is important to escape to civilization, once in a while.

Where can we find your latest collection?

Most of the collection is available in my Dublin shop, Bow.

I have focused my business this year on trying to showcase and make the collection available to as many people as possible, direct.  I’m working on my online shop called The Silent Gallery which will hopefully be up and running this Summer.

I’m hoping to present my first Exclusive Collection, which will be a selection of one of kind pieces in September in Dublin. It will be the first time I do a complete ‘couture’ like range.

Eilis’s boutique, Bow, is located in Powerscourt Townhouse, Dublin. You can see her magnificent designs at EilisBoyle.com,  and her beautiful blog, The Silent Storyteller, here.

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

When R and I first met he insisted that I was the midwest’s equivalent to Carrie Bradshaw. While I found this idea flattering, if not humorous, I couldn’t help but be reminded of the episode in which she and Aidan go to his rustic cabin in the country and how she barely survived two days there. I thought to myself, oh yes, that would be me. Then I thought to myself, oh nooo!…I am falling in love with a farmer!  A real live F-A-R-M-E-R. Farmers live in the country surrounded by animals and well water.  I won’t even drink filtered tap water and I never leave the house in flat shoes. Ever.

Fast forward six years. I married him. We live in the Irish countryside and the closest thing to my former Sex and the City lifestyle is a walk-in wardrobe filled with the residual Mui-Muis and Manolos of days past. They seemingly have no use in these parts. Nope, nowadays life is more like an episode of “Sex and the Country”. Not saying it’s not fascinating…even entertaining, just “tis different”. Quite different indeed…

Life then: Sunday breakfast or a bagel and coffee at the perfect city café around the corner chatting away with friends followed by reading the beautiful New York Times newspaper and magazine.

Life now:  Sunday morning awake with fingers crossed that we have everything for me to make breaky in the fridge because the store is ages away and I can’t be bothered to drive it.  Followed by reading the news on nytimes.com followed by witnessing two cows getting it on in the pasture.

Yes, cows getting it on. Or “bonking” as an English friend calls it. With all the mating rituals I’m witnessing round’ here I think it is safe to say that there is definitely more sex in the country than sex in the city that I used to live in.  I have to admit, I just could not believe my eyes the first time I witnessed a cow mounting another cow. A bull just wanders around the pasture jumping on random heifers whenever the mood strikes him.  Very aggressive.  It just doesn’t look right. They’re too big for heaven’s sake! The act appears to be really clunky and awkward. Not sexy AT ALL. Plus, it looks like the girl cow is not happy. Plus, they are in the middle of a pasture and there’s no privacy…just not right. And it looks just as strange to me with all of the animals out here; sheep and horses too (yes, it is shockingly true what they say about horses.eeeewwwwww) Even our dogs seem to constantly be humping around with eachother and they are all males. Way too many country pheromones in the air for me to handle at times. Way too many indeed.

R is in charge of animal health and animal reproduction at the farm. He sees that the heifers hook up with the bulls and if that doesn’t work he works his A.I. magic.  A.I., or artificial insemination, is quite an interesting process to go through with cows.  Let’s just say that there is a 3-foot long glove which needs to be worn whilst doing the procedure.  And it’s not the cow wearing it. I’m sure now you’re wondering where the “inseminatory” fluid comes from to begin with, aren’t you? (yes, I made that word up because I don’t think you can say the S word on a blog or at least I’m not going to).  Well, I just happened to find out whilst watching a farming program on the telly the other night. Let me try to paint the picture…generally speaking, there is a very important man in County Meath who is an aficionado in this area and he goes in and intervenes and collects it just as the sire is mounting the cow. He uses an apparatus that he designed that so realistic that the bull doesn’t know the difference. Again, really TMI to watch.

I’m not sure why all this animal breeding business makes me feel so uncomfortable. What I do know for sure is that writing about it has made me feel the urge to immediately book a divine, girly city holiday as soon as possible.  {Ok sweetie?}

Coming up: I will be featuring a very different kind of Irish sexiness, Trish Deseine, the best-selling author who was born in Belfast, now living in Paris and whom has been dubbed “The Irish woman who is France’s Nigella.”

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Photo courtesy of Easy Living

Tags: Aidan, Artificial insemination, bagel, Carrie Bradshaw, cow, farm, heifer, Irish, Living, Manolo, Mui Mui, New York times, Nigella, Sex and The City, sire, Trish Deseine

R and the Girls, Circa 2010

Here we go….Mr. McDonnell: UNCOVERED. Well, not really uncovered…I wouldn’t go that far-at least not for the purposes of this blog anyway. Between cows calving and garden ploughing, I was able to corner R to sit down and answer a few questions that had been submitted by readers and a couple thrown in from me. {can you tell whose are whose?}

How on earth did you meet Mrs. McDonnell?

I met Imen when visiting my friend Aiden who is living in the States.  We got together a couple times for dinner and I was very intrigued. Let’s just say that there was a universal pull towards Imen and a very big WOW factor to say the least. She told me that her Dad was going to be her Valentine that year and so when I was leaving to go back to Ireland on the 12^th of February, I arranged to have a large basket of flowers sent to her office for Valentine’s Day. The card with the flowers said, “Well, you’re my Valentine.”   I think that won her over a little bit.

What have been the challenges of marrying someone from another country/culture?

It has been a bit difficult for the Imen to settle in at times here and I can totally understand because her life is completely different from before and also because she lost her father in 2008 which was very hard on her. We are constantly working to strike the balance in bringing elements of both of our cultures into how we live our day-to-day lives here.  Her distinctiveness is also what I love about her. But honestly, the hardest thing would have to be accepting that fact that the word “awesome” is now frequently heard on the farm.

Tell us about the farm, what do you love about farming?

The farm is a family farm in which myself, brother and parents run the business. We specialize in dairy, free-range poultry and renewable energies. I have a great love for animals and the land. I‘m my own boss, which is brilliant. For me, there is a tremendous sense of pride that goes with farming and producing quality foods for the Irish marketplace.

What do you do for fun when you’re not working on the farm?

I work really long hours on the farm so when I have some time off I try to make the most of it. We have taken some brilliant holidays and there are many more to come… We all love the cinema so we try to go for a Sunday matinee and lunch on weekends. I play soccer on Tuesday evenings with a group of friends in the area and enjoy going sailing with my father when the weather conditions are good.  I am a big fan of gardening and we’ve just begun planting an organic kitchen garden which will be a family endeavour.

What is the best thing(s) about Ireland?

Guinness. Hurling. The relaxed pace of life. Irish pride. To put it simply, Ireland is my home.

What do you think of this blog?

I was pleasantly surprised when I first read the blog…. My wife has amazing talent for writing, a talent I’d love to have! It’s a funny yet fact-based blog that will inform you and keep a smile on your face. I am proud of her and really love it.

How is Ireland different from America?

The big thing that comes to mind is attitude. Bono once proclaimed that the main difference between Ireland and America is this: There is a huge, beautiful mansion on a hilltop. The American says “Someday I’m going to be that guy in that house.” The Irishman says, “Someday I’m gonna get that guy in that house”  Also, the weather is far nicer where Imen is from and the people seem to be more positive and are so open and friendly–especially when they realize you are Irish!

What is the biggest challenge facing farmers today?

Surviving poor costs for our products. For example, milk prices are the same now as they were in the 80’s, yet costs to produce have soared. Also, the more extreme weather conditions of late makes farming a constant challenge to be reckoned with.

What would you be doing if you weren’t farming?

That’s a hard question. I have a wide range of interests. I studied philosophy and history at University and am very interested in theories and universal laws. I’d love to write a screenplay. I’d like to learn more about economics and global business and get my MBA. When I was a boy, I wanted to become a zookeeper!

If Imen could persuade you to move to the USA what would you be doing?

Well, first she would have to promise to get VISA’s for all of my girls (cows) to go along.  But seriously, if that were ever the case (very doubtful), maybe I could farm or teach Irish history or open a real traditional Irish pub which would be Irish through and through from the turf in the fire to the Guinness in the glass…with poetry and politics and a regular named Paudy always sitting at the bar.

If you have any questions about R or the farm we would love to hear from you….

I am off for a long weekend in NYC….and next week is St. Patrick’s Day so fun times ahead. Have a great week!

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Tags: Amerian, farm, Guinness, hurling, ireland, Irish Pub, married, MBA, poetry, politics, turf fire, University, USA

The first time someone asked me this question I was foolishly offended.  It was broached while I was at my first Irish fashion show which was being held at the Dunraven Arms Hotel in Adare.  Modest fashion shows are de riguer here for fundraising. You will hear about 30 fashion shows a week in Ireland and when your first beautifully designed invitation arrives in the letterbox you feel so privileged that you’ve been included in the guest list of such a stylish, upscale event. But, then you turn up to find decorative tchochkes scattered about on tables and your friend’s teenage girls modelling clothes from the “The Fancy Faery” boutique/deli down the road.  A little different than expected. Still, fair play to them because these type of fashion shows raise loads of money for charity and are definitely a form of entertainment of one shape or another….especially for those who live in small villages or rural areas.

But back to the question of horsiness. While I was mingling with the crowd of fancy ladies…and by ladies I do mean Ladies. Lady Dunraven, for instance, could be found perusing the crowds in her sophisticated manner at such affairs. I started chatting with a particular group whom wondered if I was horsey. One lady rather emphatically asked me “Are you horsey?” (pronounced HAWR-SEE) I honestly hadn’t a clue what she meant by that and I just stood there looking at her questioning face with an equally questioning face. It almost seemed like a secret question in which I needed to know the password…a password for access to some type of secret society.  Then, after a 30 second stare-off, my friend finally nudged me and said, “you know, do you ride?” I honestly thought the woman was asking or implying that I was fat.  After all, I had a 8 month baby at home. Whew, not fat! {well, yes fat, but that’s not the point here}. But, alas, not horsey either. So when I said “oh no, no, no, not me”, I suddenly found myself alone in the middle of the room. It was definitely a horsey fashion show. And I was definitely not horsey. It’s worth mentioning that riding is of a different ilk in the States where Western riding seems to be more of the norm. Cowboy boots and denims prevail versus the tailored look of jodphurs, riding jackets and velvet helmets here.

So being “horsey” is admired in Ireland. I didn’t know this before I moved over. If I had, perhaps I would have spent more time riding with my friend A.T. before leaving.  Point to Points, The National Hunt, The Irish National Stud…if you’ve anything to do with horses I’d say you definitely get a gold star approval rating in this country. The most famous horsey events are the big races, and the fierce fashion competition that goes with them, called “Ladies Days”.  For example, the world renowned Galway Races have discerning judges that not only judge the racing, but also how stylish the ladies in attendance are….and the winner gets a prize too. The society pages of Irish magazines are chock full of photos featuring all the fancy “ladies” dressed to the nines from top to toe in gorgeous designer headpieces to Louboutin heels as they walk around and graciously pose for photographers on the grassy racecourse grounds.

R gave me Clonshire riding lessons for Christmas so when it warms up a bit I will keep you posted on any upcoming riding adventures….and any hints of horsiness that might ensue.

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Photo courtesy of Stella McCartney

Tags: Adare, Christian Louboutin, Clonshire, Dublin Fashion Week, Dunraven Arms, farmer, Galway Races, Horse, ireland, Ladies Days, National Hunt, National Stud, Point to Point, Racing, riding, Stella McCartney