Tag Archives: Irish

Can’t Beat Home Made Bread

Posted in Ireland, My thoughts, Nature, Provision by

We took a break from unpacking, washing and cleaning.

The sun was shining and reflecting off the water in front of our new home in the country.  We don’t just have a pond at the bottom of our garden, we have Strangford Lough!  I decided to make some Irish wheaten bread which cooks beautifully in the Aga.  Brendan wanted to go for a walk.  I asked him to wait till the bread was cooked before we left.  A friend said he would go for a walk and leave the food in the oven but too often they were away longer than they intended and the food was burnt.  I didn’t imagewant that to happen.

Brendan and I went for a walk along the bay.  The water lapped against the sea weed covered rocks.  I forgot my binoculars to do some bird watching.  I didn’t need them today as some birds were close by, gulls, sandpipers and many more were feeding on the shore. We walked around a little peninsula which becomes an island when the tide is high.  We sat down in the sunshine had coffee from my flask and enjoyed the view, Bella Vista.

The Lord is my shepherd; he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restores my soul. (‭Psalms‬ ‭23‬:‭1-2‬ KJV)

When my children were young I always wanted to move to the country to live.  I thought they could work off a lot of energy playing in the open spaces, like I did as a child.  It was not practical to live in the country for my family.  Living near schools, shops, friends, health centre and dentists in the town was more suitable.  The children could attend after school activities and sports events without me taking them by car.  They could walk home.  We weighed up the benefits of living in the country or the town.  Living in the town suited our young family better.

I haven’t made bread for twenty years.  When the children were young I made a batch of wheaten loaves every week.  Our children loved the hot bread with butter and jam running over the sides.  It was very satisfying. Baking bread was gone for a season but not forgotten.

When I was in Canada recently my host, Maureen, relaxes on the week end and makes a wheaten cake of bread for her family.  Her mum, who was from Belfast, taught her how to make it.  She keeps an Irish tradition going.  Perhaps she inspired me to get going again making bread.

I remember my mother made griddle soda bread for us.  It is made with flour, baking soda and buttermilk mixed together.  The dough was turned out onto a floured baking board, shaped into a circle an inch deep and cut into four parts.  The dough was placed on a hot griddle on top of the cooker.  When one side was cooked it was turned over to finish it off on the other side.  The smell of the cooking bread brings memories of provision, warmth and comfort.  If I was about when the bread was ready I loved to have a piece with butter melting on the fresh slice.   Homemade soda was fat free, nutritious and inexpensive.  Those were the days before supermarkets and mass produced food.

My first loaf of wheaten bread on my new Aga turned out tasty.   Brendan enjoyed it for lunch after our walk.  The smell of the freshly baked bread filled the room.  We will have daily bread from now on.

Jesus told us to pray, Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. (‭Matthew‬ ‭6‬:‭9-11‬ KJV)

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_photo_challenge/gone-but-not-forgotten/

If You’re Irish Come Into The Parlour

Posted in Canada, Family Friday, Holiday, Ireland, My thoughts, Nations by

Here is a song I sang growing up.

If you’re Irish come into the parlour,
There’s a welcome there for you;
If your name is Timothy or Pat (or David)
So long as you come from Ireland,
There’s a welcome on the mat,
If You come from the Mountains of Mourne,
Or Killarney’s lakes so blue,
We’ll sing you a song and we’ll make a fuss,
Whoever you are you are one of us,
If you’re Irish, this is the place for you!

I am in Toronto to see Ava, my son David and Jacquelyn’s baby. I am staying at Jacquelyn’s parents home. I am enjoying the change of season here. I took a walk and took this picture.

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David our son, was welcomed into the heart of Jacquelyn’s immediate and extended family. David has been fishing with Jacquelyn’s dad, brothers, uncles and and grand dad. They caught many fish and had a great time. He has been to hockey matches, plays tennis and soccer, been on a visit to Washington to see extended family, and sightseeing at the Niagara Falls.

Maureen, Jacquelyn’s mum spent all Sunday cooking dinner for friends who wanted to come over to meet me. It was Thanksgiving and Christmas all in the one day.
Maureen likes the windows open. I like a cool room too! She loves roast potatoes and Irish wheaten bread, which she bakes on the weekend. She had someone from Ireland she could share with. It was her mum’s recipe. Her mum grew up in Belfast.  We celebrated her mum. Her memory lives on.

Jacquelyn was particularly fond of her and misses her. Her baby is wearing a cardigan her granny knitted for her.

Maureen’s aunt called by the other day. She brought a beautiful Christening robe, an heirloom. Her sister had hand knitted it and gave her for her children. Now it was being given to Jacquelyn for Ava’s christening. She told us how she loves to make soda bread just like we get back in Ireland. She has here fridge full of it ready to give as a gift to anyone who calls or comes into her parlour.

I am being made to feel welcome and part of the family. I don’t have to cook, clean or shop. I am available for babysitting when Jacquelyn needs me. It’s not hard work nursing a warm, cuddly, baby girl. Oh the joy of being a grand mother. I don’t have to do the hard work of feeding, dressing and changing.
It is lovely to see my son caring, protecting and treasuring Jacquelyn and Ava. A whole new world for him.

When Brendan travelled to North America twenty years ago he was welcomed with open arms, celebrated, loved and accepted. A big shock to the system when back home in Northern Ireland there was war. The Irish were rejecting each other.

I went to England 35 years ago to have my own daughter. I was welcomed by the Irish community as a long lost relative. They were from Kerry and I was from Derry. But we were all Irish in another country.

The words of the song above are true. Brendan, David and myself have been welcomed into people’s parlours.

Writing Challenge, Around My Block

Posted in Healing, Ireland, My thoughts by

Yesterday I decided I wanted to go for a cycle around the block.
That meant a visit to the cycle shop to get my bicycle tyres pumped up, a chain fixed and the purchase of a bicycle pump.
Not too much needed done after it’s wintering out in the shed.  My neighbour helped pump up my son’s bicycle’ tyres.
His bicycle is a different genere with thick frame and tyres.
While I was getting ready, the sky in the distance was very dark and I heard thunder.  I found out later that there were heavy thunder storms all around but it did not come our way.
We ventured out.  The block near where I live comprises farmland on three sides and the sea on the fourth.
I pass a few houses where families are resting before the week’s work ahead.
The locals that are enjoying the fresh air outdoors like us, are cows with their young, sheep with their lambs and seals reclining for the evening on the rocks, out of reach of harm.

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Weeds on the roadside are bursting into flower, reaching out for their share of the sunshine.
Green ferns unfurl on the bank that is shaded.
This is the season when birds are rearing their young.
Swallows, blackbirds, doves, starlings, crows and  sparrows sing, swoop and feed.
There is an atmosphere of peace in the country.
All the noise of the radio, television, traffic, pubs and factories are far away.
It is healing for one’s mind.
Be still and know that I am God. Psalm 46 v 10
Oh Lord, the earth is full of your unfailing love.  Psalm 119 v 64
This is where I live, in the Irish countryside.
http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_writing_challenge/blog-your-block/

On Top of the Hill, an Irish Boreen. Weekly Photo Challenge

Posted in My thoughts by

Here are the views from the top of the hill above where I live in Ireland.

The photos were taken from the same spot.

This photo is taken to my left.

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The small road is called a Boreen.  

Not like the many laned motorways in other countries.

The Irish Sea and the Mourne Mountains are in the distance.  Slieve Donard is the highest in the middle.

“Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.”

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Weekly Photo Challenge. Street Life. A View of the Street where I am Going to Live

Posted in My thoughts by

I am moving from the town to the country!

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From the noise of traffic, school children laughing on their way home, and people passing by, to the stillness of the countryside.
From a view of the houses and green rolling hills of Co Down to a Bella Vista of the Irish Sea and the Mourne Mountains.
From a four storey house with wide staircases to a single storey chalet bungalow with lots of rooms leading off one floor.
From tall trees and flowering shrubs here to trees and plants that are sculpted by the salt laiden winds from the sea.
From a night sky beyond roofs of close knit houses to an open sky full of bright stars.
From a house full of children and activity, to serenity and peace of only a few of us.
From lighting wood burning fires to heat from the flick of a switch.
I am going to be living where the sky, sea and mountains are big and bright.The reflection of light off the sea makes the mountains in the distance look white.

The future definitely looks bright.  Praise God he has prepared a place for us to live after I am healed of cancer.  God has kept me alive.

Brendan and I will enjoy our new home. Who could ask for anything more.

Days can be sunny
With never a sigh
Don’t need what money can buy
Birds in the trees sing
Their day full of song
Why shouldn’t we sing along?

I’m chipper all the day
Happy with my lot
How do I get that way?
Look at what I’ve got

I got rhythm
I got music
I got my man
Who could ask for anything more?
I’ve got daisies
In green pastures
I got my man
Who could ask for anything more?

Old Man Trouble
I don’t mine him
You won’t find him
Round my door

I got starlight
I got sweet dreams
I got my man
Who could ask for anything more?

I got rhythm
I got music
I got my man
Who could ak for anything more?
I got daisies
In green pastures
I got my man
Who could ask for anything more?

Old Man Trouble
I don’t mind him
You won’t find him
Hangin’ round my front or back door

Who could ask for anything more?
Who could ask for anything more?

http://daily post.wordpress.com/2014/03/28 street-life/

 

Happy St Patrick’s Day.

 HAPPY ST PATRICK’S DAY
 Did you know that St Patrick’s Day, is the second biggest festival celebrated in the world after Christmas?  Why?  Ireland, this small island on the edge of Europe has many diaspora all over the world.  And where ever the Irish are they remember the Irish Patron Saint, Patrick.  It is a day for the wearing of the green.
St Patrick’s Centre lit up with green lights.  St Patrick’s grave is situated in the graveyard of the Church behind this centre.
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Wherever you live in the world I am sure you have heard of St Patrick.  Maybe you have Irish ancestors.  We travel to Canada and we meet people there who love Ireland even though they have never been here.  Some of our friends there have some relative in their  family line that came from Ireland.
Many people come to visit Ireland wanting to see where their ancestors come from.  Even some presidents of America claim to have Irish ancestors.  Information on the Internet has helped people with their searches.  We have had American students visit Ireland and they break into tears when they see the homeland where their forebears lived.
The Irish are in different parts of the world for various reasons.  In the 1800s there was a terrible famine in Ireland.  The population dropped to 4 million, because of death and exile.  In the 1600s some Irish were sent into Europe and the East Indies as slaves by Cromwell.
Down through the years the young people left Ireland for work in England, Canada, Australia, New Zealand and America.
Patrick came and lived among the Irish and through his love, and example he brought the love of God to the people.  It is said he used the Shamrock a small plant with three small leaves to explain the Trinity, three persons in the Godhead.  The Irish wear the Shamrock on St Patrick’s day.
Early Christians travelled to Scotland and down into Europe as far as Slovakia.  Brendan was in  Switzerland in 2012 to celebrate six hundred years since St Gallian went there from Ireland.
With living on an Island the Irish became sea faring people.  They built small wooden curraghs. The Irish monks travelled by small curraghs up the rivers of Europe.  St Brendan travelled with others to the land we now know as Canada on a boat made of wood and sealskins.
At one time in the nineteenth century there were eight million people living here.  Many lived in small holdings but were able to grow oats and potatoes, kept a few chickens.  A cow would have been kept for milk. They were able to live off their produce.  Porridge was made from the oats and the women made their own bread.  Soda bread and potato bread can only be bought in Ireland.
I grew up on a farm.  My mother baked bread, we had chickens, we had milk from the cows.  We did not go hungry.  Only on a Sunday did we have a chicken, a stew or soup. We lived well and dad and mum reared ten children.  We did not go hungry.  We were content.
We have a Christian heritage that has come down the generations from the days of St Patrick.  In the twentieth century many missionarys went from Ireland again to the nations, especially into India and Africa and set up schools and hospitals.   My mother’s sister worked in Nigeria around the 1960s.
Ireland had become infamous in the 1970s because of the war in Northern Ireland.  Injustice, bitterness, hatred, division and poverty erupted into war between people from Catholic and Protestant backgrounds.  What a shame it has brought to the name of Jesus.  Nations have looked at us and said God is love.  How come Christians are fighting one another.   In Russia and India people heard of the bombs and bullets.
In Chronicles the Word of God says “If my people will humble themselves and pray, and turn from their wicked ways I will heal their land.”  People began to pray.  I attended a woman’s prayer group.  We represented the different denominations in our country.  As we prayed we found the only One who brings forgiveness and reconciliation, Jesus.  Before he died on the cross he said about those who crucified him,  “Forgive them because they know not what they do”.  After thirty years the war ceased.  Thanks God for his mercy.
Ex President Clinton visited Derry recently and encouraged us that he is travelling all over the world to negotiate peace between warring groups.  He uses the example of the Northern Ireland as a place that lives in peace after thirty years of war.
May we travel again as missionaries of the Gospel, like St Patrick and bring the love of God, forgiveness  and reconciliation to the nations.

How to Heat a Two Hundred Year old House.

Posted in Dreams, My thoughts, Nature, Provision by
This week I got a harvest of wood.  Last summer a friend asked me if I had a wood burning stove.  I told her I had four.  I bought two of the burners very cheaply.  Many people nowadays prefer gas or oil for their heating.  Cutting wood is hard work and wood is in short supply.  I had the workers, all I needed was the wood.
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She told me her neighbour had left stacks of broken logs in her part of the grounds where a few trees had been cleared.  I was delighted with her offer.  My stack of logs needed replenished.  In the autumn I went out to see this new source of wood.  My boys did not have to do the heavy work of cutting down the trees or chainsawing thick trunks.  They pulled out logs from the stack in sizes manageable to carry to the van.  Two days work supplied us with wood we are still using.  The boys chop the wood back in our garden and store it.

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I visited my friend this week to thank her and she said we are welcome anytime.  Brendan and the boys decided to gather in some wood before they returned to university.  It started to rain the day work was to start.  But undeterred Brendan and the boys headed off. The rain stopped.
We had storms recently.  In the middle a Eileen’s garden was a tree that had fallen in the storm.  Brendan and the boys cut it up and now all the tree is in my back garden.
When I moved to our present home which has seven bedrooms, fourteen years ago I was wondering how were we going to heat it.  It is two hundred years old and had some fire places and some oil heating.  To keep us comfortable may be costly.
I had a dream.  In it I saw a stack of wood, a stack of coal and a stack of turf.  I believe God was showing me he would supply the fuel for my big house.  To the back of our home was a small wood that needed cleared for houses to be built.  That was our supply of wood for a few years.
One spring, trees were washed up on a local beach in a big storm.  I discovered it and alerted Brendan.  In no time, with the boys help, we had the van full of wood.
Another friend, who lived in a big estate offered us any fallen trees.  So God supplied the stack of wood, and the turf and coal.  From time to time we bring home turf from Kerry when we return from holiday.  I burn coal only on the cold days.  So I have not had a big bill for fuel in the years we have lived here.
When I had the dream I was reminded of the poem by Padraic Colum.

Old Woman of the Roads

O, to have a little house!
To own the hearth and stool and all!
The heaped up sods against the fire,
The pile of turf against the wall!
To have a clock with weights and chains
And pendulum swinging up and down!
A dresser filled with shining delph,
Speckled and white and blue and brown!
I could be busy all the day
Clearing and sweeping hearth and floor,
And fixing on their shelf again
My white and blue and speckled store!
I could be quiet there at night
Beside the fire and by myself,
Sure of a bed and loth to leave
The ticking clock and the shining delph!
Och! but I’m weary of mist and dark,
And roads where there’s never a house nor bush,
And tired I am of bog and road,
And the crying wind and the lonesome hush!
And I am praying to God on high,
And I am praying Him night and day,
For a little house – a house of my own
Out of the wind’s and the rain’s way.

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When the chilly winds and rain of winter blow, we are cosy in our big house with the home fires burning.  My son said he misses the warm fires when he is away.  I even have a dresser of my own with the Delph.

Speaking about The Power of God. Developing your blogging voice.

Posted in My thoughts by
Thanks to wordpress.com and the staff that are at hand to give advice, I have been given a Voice to write to the nations.
As I am just at the beginning of my development, age two years in the blog atmosphere, I can go at my own pace.  I am free to write when I am inspired, whether it is two blogs a day or have a gap of two or three weeks.
I have stories to tell about how God gave me his power to help me in my life;  how my husband and I raised fourteen children to third level education in this age when big families are frowned upon;  how God healed me from fourth stage cancer;  how God continues to bless me and my family as I look to him.
I am a Irish mother and housewife.  We raised our family during the years of Troubles in Northern Ireland and have survived.
I want my voice to tell about the wonders of our God who is real, who created the heavens and the earth, yet is interested in my life and shows me he cares.
I hope my stories will help others to find hope in life in this world and have hope of eternal life.
Angela

SEPTEMBER THE ELEVENTH

Posted in Healing, My thoughts, Travel by

On Monday I returned from Scotland after leaving my youngest and last child off to university in Edinburgh. Fourteen years ago Brendan and I left our daughter Mary up to Aberdeen. We returned home to rear nine more of our children. Whew!!!! How did we do it? I can say it was by the power of the Holy Spirit that we accomplished the work. God gave us the strength one day at a time. Thank you Lord.
As I was thinking back I began to wonder what work I will return to do when I go home this time.
I did not have to wait long to find out. A taxi picked me up to take me to Glasgow airport. The taxi driver was friendly but I did not want to engage in conversation. After a while I thought I should respond to say something to him. He asked if I had enjoyed my time in Glasgow. I told him I was leaving my fourteenth child off to university. The questions came fast and furious after that. How old were my other children? How did you manage to rear that big family? You don’t look old enough to have all those children. I felt free to tell him how Jesus had helped me over the years, how he gave me strength to keep going, how he healed me of cancer. It turned out his mother was from Donegal and he was from a family of ten.
When I arrived in Belfast I got a lift with a young man to pick up my car. He was asking me if I had been to anywhere nice. I started over again telling him my story. He said I was too young to have so many children. I went on to give God the glory for him renewing my youth and keeping me alive.
Psalm 103 says He renews your youth like the eagles and satisfies you with good things.
I was feeling quite encouraged as I drove off home.
I saw a sign along the road which said “Potatoes for sale”. I screeched the brakes and turned left off into a side road. I always enjoy fresh potatoes grown locally. You can’t beat freshly boiled new potatoes and butter. I don’t like the packaged potatoes from the supermarket. It has been the staple food in Ireland. The crops of potatoes failed in the mid eighteen hundreds due to disease and many people died or left the country because of the famine. I have always had a bag of potatoes in my kitchen. My children would never go hungry.
One year a young lady from Boston came to help me for the summer, as my husband was travelling to India. Her mum rang her one day and her mum could not believe she was sitting down to a dinner of potatoes and beans! Back home Sheila would live on Mc Donald’s food or her favourite was a Sub sandwich with lashings of Ranch sauce. She was none the worse from living with us.
Sheila was to fly home on September the eleventh, when the twin towers fell. She was in shock as we watched the tragedy unfold on T V. We comforted her as best we could as she cried with her people back in America. She was able to get a flight home a few days later.
I am reminded of another young American woman who arrived into Dublin a few years later on the eleventh of September. Susan was coming to stay with her mum who lived here in Ireland. I met her in the airport. She was in a wheel chair with one suitcase. She had advanced M.E. a fatigue syndrome. It was amazing they let her fly in her condition. A kind friend on the other side in America had helped her get on the plane.
Susan lived with her mum for the next while and with rest, good food, love and the beauty of the Irish scenery she was getting more strength, but could not walk unaided. She came to visit us with her mum. Brendan and I offered to pray for her. The power of God touched her and she rose up and walked unaided. She completely recovered. In time she got married and had a child. There is a story in the bible where Peter and John spoke to a man who was crippled and commanded him to walk in the name of Jesus in Acts 3 v 6.
Back to my story about the potatoes. I met the potato man. I asked him if his potatoes were grown locally. He went on to tell me he used to grow crops himself but had to stop because he had arthritis in his spine and was in constant pain. He brought the potatoes in from Portrush. I soon forgot about the potatoes. I felt compassion for this young man who could not do the work he loved and support his family. I had been healed of cancer and pain and I wanted to tell James that Jesus could heal him too.
I spent the next thirty minutes telling him how I was healed by prayer to God. He told me his wife and children were praying for him. Well I said “God is about to answer their prayers, because I would like to pray for you”. He was agreeable. I believe the next time I call with him he will be healed and restored and growing his own potatoes. God, who made the universe and who made you and I, is kind. He can deliver us from our troubles, heal and restore.

I have just had potatoes for dinner.  Every time I have these potatoes I will remember James. I believe my work is to continue what I did on Monday, telling others what God has done for me.

Angela

Restored to Health – 4th Stage Cancer

Posted in Healing, My thoughts by

On April 5th 2010 I was diagnosed with 4th stage colon cancer.

I had been bleeding from my back passage for three years but had not told anyone.  I thought it was something that would go away on its own, perhaps I had haemorrhoids or colitis.  I had met some people with these conditions and they seemed to be coping.   I was fifty six years old when my condition started.  I had five children still living at home.

Up until then I coped well as a mother of my big family of fourteen children, doing the cooking , shopping, caring and managing the household.  I am a woman of many talents; an engineer, putting in woodburner stoves; a carpenter, my son and I made a big table for all of us to sit at for meals; and a gardener, my sons helped me clear our neglected big garden.  I made nourishing meals on a budget.  A lady I met at an IT class said I should get a job in management.  I continued my job as a mother at home.   Nine children had left home already and had gone on to university.

Being a stay at home mother is not an honoured job in the world.  Some people think you are not right in your mind to have a big family.  As our family grew we got less invitations to visit with friends.   My son was telling me that the hot plates he took out of the oven were a health hazard.  I said back to him, “Having children is a health hazard.”

My energy began to wain and I lost interest in the garden and home.  I did not go outside the home much.  I just kept things ticking over. The children had always helped with meals and my husband picked up the groceries.  I was feeling rejected, discouraged, depressed and hopeless.  My children were getting stronger and doing well at school and work.  Those who were married did not live nearby so I did not get to see them so often.  Everyone seemed to be getting along fine without me.

Tensions built up between my husband and me as we were both under pressure.  I would argue a lot.  I began to get annoyed with the children if they did not co operate with me.  I began to get bitter and angry.  Things were not working out the way I had hoped.  I had to get up in the night to use the bathroom and often I did not get back to sleep.  The bleeding continued and my life was spiralling downhill.

I told my husband that Easter Monday that I wasn’t feeling well, that I had been bleeding for a while.  I didn’t tell him the truth.  We went to the hospital and I was referred on to a specialist in cancer.  I was diagnosed with malignant colon cancer, fourth stage.  I had an eight centimetre tumour the size of an orange.  When the nurse told me what I had I did not panic.  I was already numb and had lost the will to live.

My husband rang round my family to tell them the news.  They were sad of course, but they and my husband had courage to believe I would get better.  They began to pray for me.  They showed their love and cared for me.  This began the road to my recovery.  People I didn’t even know prayed for me when they heard I had cancer.  My symptoms changed.  The bleeding stopped and my appetite returned.

I went through five weeks of chemotherapy and radiotherapy in July.  I would get the maximum dose of radiotherapy one can have in a lifetime.  The treatment was given to reduce the tumour before an operation to remove the tumour and part of my bowel.   I had no side effects from the treatment.  I believe I was being healed.

Three months later I was called to the hospital to arrange a time to have the operation.  I knew I did not need an operation.  The doctor wanted to check and arranged a colonoscopy.  The monitor showed there was no trace of the tumour and the wall of the colon was like a baby’s skin.  I have a letter from that doctor to say there was no tumour.  I did not have an operation.

Three years later I am in better health.  I do not argue any more.  If someone annoys me I don’t retaliate.  I don’t get angry.  I try to be more loving and thankful.  I cast my care onto The Lord.  I know Jesus has forgiven me my failures and healed me from cancer so I chose to forgive others and tell others about what God has done for me.

My husband has written a book about my healing called “Staying Alive”  It is available on kindle.  I hope you will take courage from my story.

Angela

Ps. This article was written as I am taking part in the following writing challenge – http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/08/12/writing-challenge-health/