We spent Sunday afternoon at the local Steeplechase

a horse race dripping in history

which is run from one point

to another point

over fences and hills

in the raw Irish countryside…

We were in awe of the young, powerful thoroughbreds

crashing over fences woven with willow branches

…leaving dust in their wake,

and struck by such stunning beauty in the strength and condition of maiden horses

As for the spectators,

there were some very serious betters

with some serious bookmakers at their disposal…

Onlookers of the canine variety were welcomed as well.

We admired colourful jockeys

gathered together before each race,

and spotted the lone female rider

all dressed in white.

Cups of hot whiskey

with lemon, sugar and cloves

were sipped by many

for warming protection

from the brisk, stirring wind

that accompanied the afternoon sun.

Unforgettable.

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Photos by Imen McDonnell 2012.

Mmmmm. Fresh yogurt. Crunchy granola. Boo Berries.

BUT, before I go into all of that crazy goodness, I’d like to express my GINORMOUS thanks to all that voted for this blog in the Saveur Magazine Best Food Blog Awards. Voting is closed and the winners will be announced on May 3rd. If you voted, it was very generous and kind of you, if you didn’t, I get that too; signing up to vote in a contest is not everyone’s cup-o-tea. I’m just delighted that you take the time to read my funny little country-living/food-loving diary. It’s a labour of love.

I really must say that I am especially grateful to Bord Bia {the Irish food board}, Marie-Claire Digby of the Irish Times, The Irish Farmer’s Journal and Irish Country Mag, along with the amazing food and blogging community in Ireland who shared an overwhelming show of support in getting the word out about this nomination. If there is one thing I have noticed that Ireland does with great pride and enthusiasm, it is supporting the people, places or things they believe in. To receive this gesture of support as an American living in Ireland is something to relish; it is heartwarming and very special to say the least. Plus, it goes a long way in making an oft homesick expat feel right at home, and that is enough of a win for me! Thank you.

I apologise for not having a post up sooner. As luck would have it, we’ve had sketchy internet. I am not going to flannel on about it, because we are lucky that we even have a fast internet connection most of the time. This was not always the case. When I moved here just a few years ago, there was dial-up. The kind where you hear the dial tone and worse-than-nails-on-a-blackboard screeching sounds. Now, we have wi-fi, but the router is located in the cowshed at the upper farmyard because it picks up a better signal from there. Which is brilliant, until rains too much {cough} we don’t get a signal. Yes, it rains fairly often. (see Fair Weather Friend)

So. Homemade yogurt. Something I probably would have never dreamed of attempting, but when you have an Irish dairy on your doorstep and the nearest supermarket is 3/4’s of an hour away, it makes no sense whatsoever NOT to milk it. This post is not groundbreaking. There are already bags of other food blogs + websites featuring DIY yogurt. It’s like a bubbling pot of live bacteria out there. So, I am not going to claim that my version is the best, but I do know that our 6 year old prefers it over fromage frais which is nothing short of monumental. I personally think the trick is vanilla bean. Takes down that tang.

And, besides the cracking taste; other mightly fine reasons for making your own yoghurt are:

1. It’s healthier as it contains no extra preservatives, sugars or additives {i.e. gobbledy-gook}
2. It’s less expensive {even if you’re not farming}
3. It’s friendlier to the environment {no trees will be harmed}

As far as the granola, it’s as simple as A. my go-to gorgeous Kilbeggan Oats roasted with B. my beekeeping father-in-law’s happy honey, and C. a few other nutty & seedy bits and bobs thrown in for good measure. Of course, you can use any brand of oats and honey from the shop or market. Easy peasy.

Sharing these recipes can only mean I’ve formally become “crunchy” right?  Okay, maybe halfsies; I did go out to a fancy city dinner wearing makeup and Michael Kors last week, so perhaps I’m just a partial granola girl.

Either way, I’m down with it.

Are you?

Farmhouse Yoghurt

2 Liters or 1/2 gallon of milk

(I use full fat from our dairy for a delightfully creamy result,

but you can buy organic milk of any fat content from the

market as well)

125 ml/ ½ cup of plain yogurt

(to be used a starter, store-bought & must have “live bacteria

cultures” on label)

1 teaspoon vanilla pod seeds

Stainless steel saucepan

Candy Thermometer

Over low heat, slowly bring the milk up to 77°C/170°F in saucepan with a candy thermometer. Do not allow the milk to boil at any time. Once your milk reaches 77°C/170°F, turn off the heat and bring the temperature back down to 43°C/110°F. Once your milk has reached 43°C/110°F, stir a little bit of the warm milk into the 125 ml/½ cup of plain yogurt.

Pour the milk and yogurt mixture into to the saucepan and gently stir them together. Stir in vanilla seeds.

Now it is time to incubate the yogurt. You will need to keep it at a temperature of about 110°F for the next 4-10 hours. The length of time will depend on how thick and tangy you want your yogurt. The longer it sits at this warm temperature, the firmer and tangier it will get. Check the yogurt at the 4 hour mark for a taste and texture test, if you are pleased you can move onto chilling.

I recommend putting the lid onto the saucepan of yogurt, wrapping it up in towels and placing into an oven which was preheated to 50°C/120°F and then turned off. (You can try to maintain the heat in the oven by leaving the light on, which can generate enough heat to keep the yogurt active, but I find keeping the pan cosy in towels should do the trick). All ovens are not the same so play it by ear. I have also read about using a crock-pot, heating pad or, of course, a yogurt maker as well.

When the desired time is up, place the yogurt in the fridge to chill. After the yogurt is completely chilled, stir. There may be a film over the top, which you can eat or simply remove. Pour yogurt into airtight containers and store. (remember to save some to use as your next starter.) Then poon into a dish, cover in granola & fresh berries and DEVOUR.

Slan Abhaile,

Imen x

Photos and Styling by Imen McDonnell 2012

Naturally, I had to crack the clotted cream. It was only a matter of time. My reasoning? Well, we do live on a dairy farm for god’s sake. The only question remaining is: what on earth took me so long. After dipping into a tub made by a fellow farmerette at a recent photo shoot, there was no stopping me.  To put it plainly, the flavour and texture of homemade clotted cream is absolute pure ambrosia.

The first time I tasted clotted cream was at a little afternoon tea party that I organised for a dear friend’s engagement. It took place in the very unlikely, but ultimately ohhh sooo perfect, Murray’s Steakhouse “Home of the Silver Butterknife Steak”. Murray’s is a supper club and cocktail lounge in downtown Minneapolis which opened in the 40’s and is so authentically retro that the dining room is darkly lit even during their lunchtime service. As I recall, the main room is adorned in mirrored walls, chandeliers, salmon pink draperies, and wall to wall carpet with art deco patterning. I wanted to plan something really unforgettable, and just knew Rebecca would love a bit of a mad tea party with all of her girls. Murray’s was the only place that offered such a service at the time. Don’t ask me why.

We all showed up in our frocks and sipped tea and champagne, pawed at dainty cucumber sandwiches and gobbled down white scones with clotted cream and jam in the lowly lit room for over two hours. It was not The Plaza, and no one wore white gloves, but it sure was divine.

After I was living in Ireland for a couple of years, I decided it would be nice idea to invite my mother and sister-in-law to an afternoon tea at Adare Manor. We arrived to the 1800’s Neo-Gothic estate and were seated in the tea rooms. From where I was sitting there was a picture window introducing a view of the most tremendous formal gardens behind one shoulder, and an enormous hearth fireplace that seemed so large that one could stand inside of it, beyond the other. A very reserved waiter served us Darjeeling tea with light egg + cress, salmon + crème fraiche, and ham sandwiches along with delicate cakes, scones, and petit fours. We were all spoiled with clotted cream on that day as well.

Today, I am in my very own kitchen with a pinny making clotted cream from scratch. Didn’t see that happening in my lifetime, but must admit, I am delighted with my success. It’s not difficult, but when you make it for the first time, it’s very easy to get the feeling that it’s not working. I also made the mistake of thinking that the cream underneath the crust was the actually clotted cream. It is not. That crusty golden top is just that, pure gold.

Clotted cream is not Irish, but I would venture to say it features on all formal afternoon tea menus across this fine country. It is mostly associated with dairy from the southwestern part of England; and in particular the counties of Cornwall and Devon. In fact, Cornish Clotted Cream is another one of those protected foods (PDO) so long as the cream is from Cornwall.

My clotted cream proudly comes from milk from our happy Irish Dunmoylan cows, but you don’t need a dairy farm to make it from scratch. If you can get unpasteurized, unhomogenised cream from a local dairy that would be ideal, but if not, use double or heavy organic whipping cream.  Don’t ask yourself why you’re making clotted cream, just do it. And bring it to a friend’s house with homemade scones on a sunny afternoon, it’s a slice of heaven.

Homemade Clotted Cream

Preheat oven to 100C/200F

1000ml/4 cups double or heavy cream (unpasteurised is best)

Pour the cream into a heavy bottom shallow pan. I used a stainless steel roasting pan.

Put it in the oven

And, forget about it for 8-10 hours

When it is done, it will have a thick golden crust forming on the top, like this

Take it out of the oven and let it sit in a cool place for 10-12 hours

Remove the “clouted” top with a slatted spoon, put into jar(s) and place in refrigerator for 2-3 hours

The clotted cream will last for 3-4 days

You can use the reserved cream underneath for other purposes if you wish…such as baking scones!

Slather on scones with jam.

{you will thank me}

Slan Abhaile,

Imen

Photos + Styling by Imen McDonnell 2012

Happy New Year! You might have noticed a few wee changes here….what better time for new beginnings than the first week of the year, right?

In the spirit of fresh new starts, I’ve decided to make a small change to the title of this blog and from this day forward she will now be emblazoned: “farmette” {at I Married An Irish Farmer}. The farmer and I gave it some thought and came to the conclusion that it was time for a change…and in his words “We all know you married an Irish farmer now….isn’t that old news?” He’s right.

So, here’s the new news…

1. I have basically (umm, finally) settled into my role as ‘chief farmette’ here at the farm.

Plus…

2. The little weekly column that I write is entitled “Tales of A Modern Farmette” and @ModernFarmette is also my handle on the ‘ould Twitterbox, so now everything will be all nice and tidy.  We likey nice-y and tidy.

And…

3. The word “farmette” makes me smile. Nuff said.

For now, the web address will stay the same so you don’t have to remember a new one, eventually it will move to a new address and I will make sure that process is seamless.

I have also added two new pages on the right hand side:  “Settling In” and “Traditional Skills”. Both quick links to past blog posts with “Settling In” being a sort of pre-food round up of funny posts about adapting to my new life in the countryside, and “Traditional Skills”, a place for all those time-honoured skills that I have learned over the past 2 years, such as butter and cheese making, apple pressing, jam, bread, and honeybee posts. I will be adding new material to both pages as time goes on.

Roight. Enough with the housekeeping, swiftly moving on…

I had planned on starting off the year with theeee most wickedly decadent cake + pudding post, inspired by one too many viewings of Sofia Coppola’s Marie Antoinette over the holiday break, but decided to go with a healthier start…for a week or so anyway.

Baked porridge oats for brekky is one of the little farmer’s firm favourites. He loves it with brown sugar + massive amounts of cinnamon and Grandad’s honey. This morning we used Highbank Orchard Syrup, a boiled down apple syrup in place of the honey. Let’s just say it went over better than a new Phineas and Ferb episode. I discovered this gorgeous new product at Savour Kilkenny in October, and we will definitely keep a stock of it in the larder from here on out as it is perfect in porridge on a cold winter’s morning.

My {Quick and Easy} Baked Irish Porridge Oats

Ingredients

1 cup of Irish porridge oats (We love Kilbeggan Organic* best, now also available in the USA at Dean & Deluca in store and online)

2 cups of water or milk + 2-3 tablespoons milk

1 tsp boiled apple syrup or 2 tsp of honey

1-3 tsp cinnamon

2 tbsp brown sugar

Method

Bring the porridge oats and water or milk to a boil in a saucepan. Turn down heat and let simmer for 3-4 minutes stirring constantly. Remove from heat. Mix in a few tablespoons of milk, a teaspoon of Highbank Orchard Syrup (or any boiled apple syrup) and cinnamon to taste. Pour into an ovenproof ceramic baking dish, sprinkle top with 2 tbsp of brown sugar and place into 425f/210c oven* for 20 minutes or until brown sugar has bubbled and hardened on top slightly. Serve immediately.

*alternatively, if you have an oven with an overhead grill place under at 200c for 10-15 minutes

*Since posting, I rec’d an email that Kilbeggan Oats are now available in Stateside at Dean & DeLuca!

You can also use the coarser steel cut oats; just soak them in water overnight beforehand so they get nice and soft when cooked/baked in the morning.

Cheers to a wonderful 2012! If you have a spare moment, would love to hear your thoughts on “farmette” and other changes to the blog…you can leave a reply below.

Slan Abhaile,

Imen x

Photo and styling by Imen McDonnell 2012

This morning I wondered out loud on Twitter if a Toad-In-The-Hole is essentially the same as a Pig-In-A-Blanket? I then meandered into the kitchen and using a recipe I learned from The Butcher, baked up a mini tray of the very same Toads-In-The-Holes that were in question for my little farmer. When I logged back into the Twitterverse, I was dumbfounded by the flood of spirited responses to my porky little enquiry!

No one was having it. Even fellow Americans told me that Pigs-In-A-Blanket were hot dogs wrapped in Pillsbury crescent rolls, certainly not a sausage inside of a Yorkshire pudding. {I must admit, I do recall my dear Aunt R making the most delicious dogs in crescents and finger jellos for us kids after a long day of slip-n-sliding in the sun}

Still, I always thought that a Pig-In-A-Blanket was a sausage wrapped inside of pancake. I had the best intentions….thought I was on the right track, you know, pork popping out of some sort of doughy batter….similar right?

Nope. I stood firmly corrected. Here’s a snippet:

@ModernFarmette blasphemer! Err.. Ok that’s a bit strong, I’m very fond of toad in the hole. It’s not the same thing.

@ModernFarmette pigs in blankets are sausages wrapped in bacon here! Toad in hole is sausages in a lg Yorkshire pudding yummy comfort food

@ModernFarmette Nope – toad in the hole is sausage in a yorkshire pudding batter. Pigs in Blankets are in pastry (aren’t they???)

@ModernFarmette wiki doesn’t agree they are the same en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Toad_in_t… vs en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pigs_in_a…

@ModernFarmette They’re different – with a toad, you pour over a pancake-type batter in a dish that puffs up all around the sausages.

@ModernFarmette toad in a hole, I believe, is the same as egg in a hole #dontquotemeonthat

@modernfarmette So really it’s more like a pig in a hole.

@ModernFarmette totally different! Toad in the hole is sausage baked in Yorkshire batter

@ModernFarmette are pigs in blankets sausies wrapped in puff pastry? Toad in the hole are sausies in Yorkshire pudd batter. And delish.

@ModernFarmette Pigs in blankets are sausages wrapped in bacon

@ModernFarmette I learned this Christmas that the pigs are sausages wrapped in bacon and baked, toads are sausages in Yorkshire pudding!

@ModernFarmette pig in a blanket is sausage in pastry, toad is sausage in Yorkshire pud basically, near the same but both delish!

@ModernFarmette Pig in a blanket is like a sausage roll? Toad in the hole is sausages baked in a dish w/Yorkshire pudding type mixture.

@ModernFarmette we had them but they were hot dogs wrapped in crescent rolls. Yummers.

I didn’t really want to end the year with a Sausage Toad-In-The-Hole, but, as you can see, I simply could not resist.

A Toad In The Hole

Serves 4

Ingredients

1 1/2 cups or 188g of all purpose flour

1 scant teaspoon Kosher salt

Pinch of freshly ground black pepper

3 eggs, beaten

1 1/2 cup or 375ml milk

2 Tbsp melted butter

1 Tbsp vegetable oil

1 lb or 450g  (4 medium sized)  Irish or English sausage made with pork and breadcrumbs or good quality pork or beef sausage links (in casings)

Method

In a large bowl, whisk together the flour with the salt and a pinch of pepper. Make a well in the center of the flour. Pour in the eggs, milk, and melted butter into the well and whisk into the flour until smooth. Cover and let stand 30 minutes.

Coat the bottom and sides of an 8×12 or 9×9 casserole dish or a 4 hole pudding tin (for individual minis) with vegetable oil. Place a rack in the bottom third of the oven. Put the empty dish on the rack. Preheat the oven with the dish in it to 425°F.

While the oven is coming to temperature, heat a tablespoon of vegetable oil in a skillet on medium high. Add the sausages and brown them on at least a couple sides.

When the sausages have browned, and the dish in the oven hot, pull the oven rack out a bit (or out alltogether), put the sausages in the casserole dish or pudding tin, and pour the batter over the sausages. Cook for about 20-30 minutes or until the batter is risen and golden.

Serve at once.

*For Yank-style, I add 1/8 cup of sugar to the dry ingredients and then drench in Maple syrup immediately upon removal from the oven.

Thank you for putting up with all of my farmy foibles and experiments in Irish food this year…..it brings me real pleasure to share.

Happy New Year To One And All!

Slan Abhaile,

Imen x

Photo and styling by Imen McDonnell 2011

Warning! Spoiler Alert

This post contains approx. 500,000 calories

Perhaps I need to write more about the drab weather in Ireland because since my last posting the weather has been absolutely gorgeous! Blue skies and sun for 4 full days so far. I must say, this makes life here so much more agreeable.
One really nice thing about living on an Irish farm is the “farm dinner” as it is affectionately known here by people-both country dwellers and city folks alike. Farm dinners usually consist of a large plate of tender roasted meat–possibly beef, lamb, pork, chicken or ham; a couple portions of soft, buttery, vegetables, namely cabbage, carrots, peas, brussels sprouts, broccoli, cauliflower… and of course, some form of potato–typically boiled in their jackets or mashed. Pretty standard stuff, but exquisitely delicious and totally comforting (and sustaining)….especially on a gray, rainy Irish day. My mother-in-law, Peggy, still insists on lovingly cooking these massive dinners for “the men” (her sons, husband, farm apprentices and whoever else drops in at a moment’s notice) each and every single day. She is truly a saint. Of course, I’d love to join them each day, but try not to overdo it, as I would only be adding more work for her and more inches around my waist. When I do have lunch at the farm I will usually bring a dessert to share…they especially love my rhubarb/berry cobbler and the All-American Angelfood cake with cream and berries. Sometimes I will bake a flourless chocolate cake, which always goes over well too. There is always a slice of something for dessert and a cup of tea with sweetmeal biscuits (cookies) after dinner. These biscuits are called “digestives” because they were once thought to have antacid properties…this clarification works for me, as these little shortbread-y cookies, which are not too sweet, are remarkably delectable. And addicting. And basically, my weight-loss arch nemesis.
At the end of the day, the supper or the “tea” as it is commonly referred to as, is served. Tea occurs at the farm at around 630PM and may consist of a light sandwich or a “country salad” of boiled egg with mayonnaise, tomato slices and cole slaw with a slice of brown soda bread. The odd smoked salmon or a “fry” which is like a mini Irish breakfast is also a possibility. A cup of tea or two is compulsory. Thus, the big meal on the farm (and in many Irish homes) is dinner or lunch, which is probably better for you than our big American heavy supper in the evening and a light lunch at noon. Still, I have yet to fully embrace the tea concept and I tend to make a substantial family evening meal each night. Luckily, there have been no complaints, but I am sure that eventually we will transition to this style of eating.
During the holidays we take our meals in the formal dining room in the main farmhouse. Peggy has this wonderful mid-century modern, heated hostess trolley and dessert cart. We have the same indispensable and lavish menu for each big holiday gathering. The menu reads like this: Prawn cocktail with Mary-Rose sauce for a starter, and then a rustic, creamy soup followed by the main entrée. She will usually prepare a goose for one the holidays with her special potato stuffing, along with mashed potatoes, potato croquettes, 2-3 vegetables, a bread dressing and gravy. Yes, there are 3 different potato preparations listed there. Each plate is pre-made, designed with each tasty element, sized appropriately and waiting patiently in the trolley for its assigned dinner guest. After the main course, there will be 5 or 6 desserts to choose from as well as ice creams galore. A boozy trifle, a plucky plum pudding, a delicate pavlova with fresh berries and cream, a twice-frosted chocolate gateaux and some other kind of wonderful sweet treat. You are required to try a little of each on your plate and you don’t mind. By that time, you’re drunk with food (and possibly wine) and your defenses are most certainly down. After all those desserts, would you believe the “after dinner” chocolates are brought out? Why yes, indeed…After Eight chocolate mints and Chocolate Liqueurs to linger over accompanied by tea to sip (or just more wine if you’re me). I am sure you can make out that there isn’t a lot of moving around after these feasts. This type of banquet is not just taking place at our farm, but in homes all around the country. It’s like for one day everyone receives a permission slip from God to commit one the seven deadly sins: Gluttony!
Being a breakfast person, the piece de résistance for me is The Full Irish Breakfast. Eggs, sausages, rashers (bacon, thick cut and very lean), sautéed mushrooms and tomato halves, baked beans, and black and white puddings with toast. Not that I eat the puddings, but still, something about all of rest is just fully satisfying to me. Puddings, forgive me, taste like what I can only imagine a scab would taste like. And rightly so-they are basically dried blood. But enough of that—Richard makes THE BEST Irish breakfast ever. Him, the Shannon Airport restaurant and BIA in Adare-sheer perfection. Yummy, scrummy and positively del-ish.
Irish stew, seafood chowders, fresh fish with exquisitely prepared velvety sauces, slow roasted, melt-in-your mouth roasts covered with creative reductions, sticky toffee pudding, Banoffee pie, bakewell tarts with cream and a persimmon on the side, a beautiful glazed ham sandwich or a Ploughman’s with pickles and chutney, a filet mignon that you can cut with a butter knife, flavourful roasted parsnips and swede, chocolate biscuit cake, raspberry roulade, savoury Shepard’s pie or Fisherman’s Pie, honey and lemon glazed turnips that taste like mango, cranberry/mushroom/nut filo parcels, spicy curries….a mother’s simple stuffed chicken. From the fancy Mustard Seed in Ballingarry or the distinguished Chapter One in Dublin to delightful organic lunches at the Avoca cafe or an inventive vegetarian dish at Ciaran’s….even a simple tasty fish n chip from chippers ‘round the country: you are definitely spoilt for choice.
Without question, and contrary to popular belief, Irish food is fabulous….from farm dinners to high-priced gourmet meals. It seems that all Irish chefs, professional and domestic, have a way with food…they prepare it with love, a love you can most certainly taste.

Slainte,

Imen

Our address is Shanagolden, but our village is called Kilcolman. You see, the farm address was changed by Grandma McDonnell whom years ago decided that the post (mail) would arrive much earlier in the day if she had a Shanagolden address because their post office was larger and far better staffed. She went in, boldly stated her case and was granted her wish. She was in the habit of making her wishes come true. So ironically, Shanagolden is actually down the road about 5-6 miles, but will now always be considered our town mailing address. Nevertheless, our rural community is called Kilcolman. Kilcolman, Ardagh, County Limerick to be exact. Kilcolman is what is known as our “parish” and basically consists of 3 brambly corners where 3 narrow roads meet on top of a small hill. On each corner there are the following: 1. St. Colman’s Catholic church and Purcell’s general shop/letterbox. 2. Kilcolman National School, which is the elementary school that Geoffrey will attend, and the last stop 3. Kilcolman Graveyard.
St. Colman’s church was built in 1913. It is said that all of the material for the church was transported to Kilcolman by horse and cart. There are also church ruins in the cemetery dating back to 1253 which are likely that of an Augustinian Abbey. St. Colman’s is a quaint stone church in a small parish, but stands high on the hill and can be seen from quite a distance. Next door, Purcell’s shop is tiny and tidy—a place where you can pick up a tub of butter and a jar of instant coffee and eavesdrop on village gossip if you are so inclined. Kilcolman Graveyard, bestowed with Cypress trees and Celtic crosses is carefully maintained by a quiet gentleman who lives nearby. There is lore that there is a stone in the cemetery which can cure headaches. I have yet to try it. The Kilcolman National School is the only somewhat modern structure on the three corners. Still, it was built in accordance with planning laws that say all structures must abide by typical Irish countryside design meaning it fits cozily into the pretty parish picture.
Richard’s brother D and wife R’s house is called “The Old Presbytery” and is formerly the home of all the parish priests and visiting clergy. The house dates back to 1862 and still has a wing which was once a small chapel. Nowadays, the Parish priest lives just down the road in a small bungalow. Father Mullane (Mill-Ann) is a smiley, handsome 40-something fella with high cheekbones and a twinkle in his eye. His hair is silver, but prematurely so. He has a brand new VW which he drives fast and just always, always seems frantically busy. You’ll always see him gardening or renovating the house in some way, there has even been talk that he has been recruiting help to replace the massive stained glass windows in the church with new ones. To think! Each Wednesday morning when I bring G to Montessori we see Father Mullane frantically speeding to church at about 940am. Mass is at 930. That always makes me chuckle. In fact, the whole ride to G’s Montessori makes me chuckle because it still seems so surreal to me. We leave our gate and turn right, we are surrounded by green lush countryside dotted with cows, sheep and horses and in less than 2 minutes we arrive in Kilcolman where we meet the church, cemetery, store and school. Indeed, the picture perfect parish.

Slainte,

Imen