Not much to report on the smallholding front. We seem to be getting nothing but storm after storm and rain at the moment. Today it's the turn of Storm Henry. That's the eighth letter in the storm alphabet this winter.
Walked the fields the other day and looked at my footprints in the turf behind me. It's awful squelchy and the rushes are appearing from nowhere. Think it's only St Brigid who ever made a use for them properly. Yes we know there are other uses for rushes like rush lights and bedding for the cattle.
Still no chance of mowing. weeding or preparing ye olde veg plot for spring. The weather is everything in the countryside. There's not a lot you can do outside when it's blowing a gale and not drying out.
We decided to go for a two mile walk into the wind today. It felt like we had walked six miles when we got home.
Two windswept donkeys grazing and posing for their photographs.
The sea (Bantry Bay) looked very violent and I wouldn't like to have been on a boat today.
An old windswept farm stead ruin. My late father remembered when people lived in the thatched roof cottage. The farmer was also a fisherman. One stormy night the man's sister went outside and was swept into the bay and never seen again. Nature is beautiful but also very cruel.