Sunday morning arrived all too soon and after a proper Irish Fry breakfast Grace said a long good-bye to her friends as they needed to head back to Dublin for work on Monday.
They all remarked at how the cottage seemed to be exuding it's old charm again, and after a new paint job it would look like it had from the pictures that Grace had shown them. Grace still was determined to put it for sale.
Sunday afternoon allowed Grace time to change all the linens and set up the rooms for show as if guests would be arriving at any time. Her friends had done an amazing job leaving everything sparkling and cleaned. It was as if the cottage had taken on a new life inside. Grace made herself some of the leftovers for lunch and set down with a cup of tea to look through more of the papers from Aine's desk.
She started to sort the papers and cards into groups. First there were all the thank-you notes from guests. So many were regular return guests as there were multiple notes from them. Many commented on the quiet calm they enjoyed at the cottage and the Swatragh area. Many more commented on the delicious food that Aine served and bagged lunches when they were requested.
The second group of papers were notes that were all in the same handwriting. Grace recognized the script as her grandmother's. Aine kept notes on her guests as to their preferences, special needs and favorite foods. Her preparation for guests was meticulous. Sean and Jean Mulcahey like the room in the back and Jean loves fresh roses; Matthew Scott eats vegetables at breakfast and no fruit; Maggie Finch likes chamomile tea at 4:00 on the front porch. And the notes went on and on. Grace smiled as she read each note that Aine had written. She obviously cared deeply for her regulars.
The last group of papers seemed to be scraps of writings that guests left behind, or wrote to Aine. Possibly writings in progress. These she would pass on to Barry to look at closer. Some of the papers were yellowed with age. Aine had been hosting guests at the cottage for many years.
It was getting well into the evening when Grace finished going through all the papers. The cottage was so quiet since her friends had left. As Grace walked around the dining and sitting room she could imagine all the many guests filling the now empty spaces. The conversations among people who had become friends at the cottage.
Tomorrow the outside would start to take on a new color and breath of freshness. Grace wanted to go find some more roses to replace some of those that needed to be replaced. A trip to Montgomery Nurseries Maghera just down the road would be called for. She also wanted to plant some heather and other plants that would fill in the areas that needed some color.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Sunday, February 20, 2011
All Roads Lead to Swatragh - Chapter 14
This was a long Saturday full of work for everyone. By the time Grace had dinner started everyone was back in the cottage cleaning up for the evening. Barry had finished first and was going through the little scraps of paper from the desk where Grace had found the Seamus Heaney lines of poetry.
Barry stood in the doorway of the kitchen and startled Grace with his voice, “Grace, you would not believe what all was in that drawer. There are pieces of prose, poetry, writings, and a few sketches. I recognize some of the poetry, but not much of it, and have no clue about the sketches, or other writings. I'd like to take some of it back with me to see if I can find out where it came from, or who wrote it. I highly doubt that Seamus Heaney actually wrote those lines on that scrap of paper, but you never know. I know this is a stretch, but what if your grandmother's cottage was like a haven for writers? I could see where they might want to get away from it all for a while. You really need to find her guest registry.”
“Come on Barry,” Grace replied as she put the soda bread in the over, “ this hardly seems like a retreat for the arts. I"m sure my grandmother would have said something to me about having famous guests. But you are welcome to study whatever scraps of paper you'd like.”
Barry just stood in the doorway and shrugged his shoulders. “Like I said, you never know.”
“Nuff talkin here,” called Kelly as she pushed past Barry into the kitchen. “We all need to help Grace tonight, she's been working all day like the rest of us. What can I do to help, hon?”
“Kelly, it's really all ready except for the bread. I decided to make a fresh loaf for dinner. Do you want to open another bottle of wine? It's over on the counter. And please pour Barry a glass as he's got too many delusions about this cottage running through his head,” Grace laughed.
After another delicious dinner from Aine's recipes the group decided to explore the area for a pub with the hopes of some music. Just as they arrived near the south end of town they found Rafters Restaurant and Friel's Bar. It was the perfect spot for some good music. They were glad it was close to the cottage on the dark country roads for when they headed back late that night.
It was dark and a little musty inside from the turf fire that they had going, even though it was not that cold. The group took a table they found empty and the guys ordered drinks at the bar and brought them to the table. This was not like any of the posh Dublin pubs that they frequented on the weekends.
The pub was not large, but sufficient enough so that six to eight musicians could sit at tables for a session and there was plenty of room for patrons at a few tables and seated at the bar. While it had that homey feel, you could tell it was recently refurbished with beautiful wood floors and slightly darker wood wall panels. The seating was a combination of chairs and short stools. The bar area looked original with its darker wood work and amazing craftsmanship.
The stone walls were covered with a plethora of pictures and memorabilia. This pub had been passed down through four generations of the Friel's family. Out of curiosity Barry spent quite a while studying the pictures that were posted and came back to his seat shaking his head again.
“Grace, I'm telling you that you may have a diamond in the rough with that cottage, and I'm not so sure you should rush to sell it until you find out more about the guests who stayed there. These walls are filled with pictures of well known writers, poets, and the like. I just wonder where they stayed when the came to this pub. Might be worth talking to the pub owner.”
“Okay, okay, Barry. I'll check into it. But tonight I want to relax and enjoy an evening with my friends. Tomorrow afternoon you will all be heading back to Dublin without me. I still have another week here to get things in order,” Grace sighed knowing she might not ever be finished getting things in order.
The musicians straggled in and the rest of the night was spent in friendly banter and listening to some wonderful traditional music.
Barry stood in the doorway of the kitchen and startled Grace with his voice, “Grace, you would not believe what all was in that drawer. There are pieces of prose, poetry, writings, and a few sketches. I recognize some of the poetry, but not much of it, and have no clue about the sketches, or other writings. I'd like to take some of it back with me to see if I can find out where it came from, or who wrote it. I highly doubt that Seamus Heaney actually wrote those lines on that scrap of paper, but you never know. I know this is a stretch, but what if your grandmother's cottage was like a haven for writers? I could see where they might want to get away from it all for a while. You really need to find her guest registry.”
“Come on Barry,” Grace replied as she put the soda bread in the over, “ this hardly seems like a retreat for the arts. I"m sure my grandmother would have said something to me about having famous guests. But you are welcome to study whatever scraps of paper you'd like.”
Barry just stood in the doorway and shrugged his shoulders. “Like I said, you never know.”
“Nuff talkin here,” called Kelly as she pushed past Barry into the kitchen. “We all need to help Grace tonight, she's been working all day like the rest of us. What can I do to help, hon?”
“Kelly, it's really all ready except for the bread. I decided to make a fresh loaf for dinner. Do you want to open another bottle of wine? It's over on the counter. And please pour Barry a glass as he's got too many delusions about this cottage running through his head,” Grace laughed.
After another delicious dinner from Aine's recipes the group decided to explore the area for a pub with the hopes of some music. Just as they arrived near the south end of town they found Rafters Restaurant and Friel's Bar. It was the perfect spot for some good music. They were glad it was close to the cottage on the dark country roads for when they headed back late that night.
It was dark and a little musty inside from the turf fire that they had going, even though it was not that cold. The group took a table they found empty and the guys ordered drinks at the bar and brought them to the table. This was not like any of the posh Dublin pubs that they frequented on the weekends.
The pub was not large, but sufficient enough so that six to eight musicians could sit at tables for a session and there was plenty of room for patrons at a few tables and seated at the bar. While it had that homey feel, you could tell it was recently refurbished with beautiful wood floors and slightly darker wood wall panels. The seating was a combination of chairs and short stools. The bar area looked original with its darker wood work and amazing craftsmanship.
The stone walls were covered with a plethora of pictures and memorabilia. This pub had been passed down through four generations of the Friel's family. Out of curiosity Barry spent quite a while studying the pictures that were posted and came back to his seat shaking his head again.
“Grace, I'm telling you that you may have a diamond in the rough with that cottage, and I'm not so sure you should rush to sell it until you find out more about the guests who stayed there. These walls are filled with pictures of well known writers, poets, and the like. I just wonder where they stayed when the came to this pub. Might be worth talking to the pub owner.”
“Okay, okay, Barry. I'll check into it. But tonight I want to relax and enjoy an evening with my friends. Tomorrow afternoon you will all be heading back to Dublin without me. I still have another week here to get things in order,” Grace sighed knowing she might not ever be finished getting things in order.
The musicians straggled in and the rest of the night was spent in friendly banter and listening to some wonderful traditional music.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
All Roads Lead to Swatragh - Chapter 13
Lunch time arrived in no time and Grace was joined in the kitchen with Anna and Kelly. The girls pulled together cheeses, sourdough bread and some meats that Grace had picked up from her shopping trip in Coleraine. They stacked all the supplies on a tray and carried them out to the front porch where everyone sat down to eat. Grace poured iced tea for everyone as they chowed down and relaxed for a bit.
“Grace, I have to say this place, while a little run down, is pretty charming,” Kate began. “This is just the kind of place that Barry and I look for when we want to get away from it all.”
“I agree Kate,” Erin added. “I bet this place was constantly packed with city folk getting away from it all. Can't wait to see what it looks like when all the painting and front garden is finished.”
“Wait,” Grace plunged in to the conversation. “What are you getting at? I want the place to look great so I can put it on the market. I can't hold down and job and take care of this place at the same time.”
“Just making some observations, Grace. We understand your plan,” Keith replied. “By the way I want to take a look at some of that poetry you were talking about. Can we do that before we get back to work?”
“Hang on,” Grace answered, and headed into the house.
“Here you go Keith,” Grace came out the door and handed Keith a slip of crumpled paper which Keith read.
“My grandfather could cut more turf in a day
Than any other man on Toner's bog.”
“I know these lines.....wait.... Hey this is Seamus Heaney. It's from a poem called Digging. Did he write this?”
“I don't know. All I know is that I found it in a drawer with other scraps of notes that my Grandmother had,” Grace replied.
“Do you think it's possible that your Grandmother hosted some famous people here at her B&B.” Barry queried. “Maybe we had better check out all this stuff before you sell the place. Did she have a guest book?”
“That's another 'I don't know', Barry. There's so much stuff in her little room that I've barely scratched the surface. Right now we still have a lot do to before dinner. Can we discuss this all later?” Grace was hoping to have made more progress and wasn't sure she wanted to delve into anything more at this point.
The group cleared up their lunch and headed back to work. Grace checked the guest rooms upstairs and even though her friends were staying there, they sparkled. They guys had cleared most of the clutter around the outside and were checking the pathway to the front door to make sure there was nothing to cause any tripping. The removal of the weeds and cutting back some of the overgrown bushes gave the cottage a very fresh look.
Under some of the overgrowth were some roses that had started to go wild. with some careful pruning the blooms would bring lots of color to the garden. Grace noticed some tags at the bottom of the trunks of the roses. One said Ballerina, another was tagged Apothecary. Grace took this to mean that these were tags to identify the specific roses. As the guys were clearing the shrubbery close to the cottage they found another bush. It was tagged Sweetheart and was climbing the cottage wall. Grace would have to do some research on the different types of roses. The Sweetheart had to be carefully removed from the wall of the cottage to prep for painting. Then it would receive a trellis to climb.
Grace could see how the garden was set up now that it was cleared. A beautiful English garden style full of color. She would need to replace some of the plants that had gone wild and some that had died from lack of water. But in the end, it would be full of life, just like her Grandmother.
“Grace, I have to say this place, while a little run down, is pretty charming,” Kate began. “This is just the kind of place that Barry and I look for when we want to get away from it all.”
“I agree Kate,” Erin added. “I bet this place was constantly packed with city folk getting away from it all. Can't wait to see what it looks like when all the painting and front garden is finished.”
“Wait,” Grace plunged in to the conversation. “What are you getting at? I want the place to look great so I can put it on the market. I can't hold down and job and take care of this place at the same time.”
“Just making some observations, Grace. We understand your plan,” Keith replied. “By the way I want to take a look at some of that poetry you were talking about. Can we do that before we get back to work?”
“Hang on,” Grace answered, and headed into the house.
“Here you go Keith,” Grace came out the door and handed Keith a slip of crumpled paper which Keith read.
“My grandfather could cut more turf in a day
Than any other man on Toner's bog.”
“I know these lines.....wait.... Hey this is Seamus Heaney. It's from a poem called Digging. Did he write this?”
“I don't know. All I know is that I found it in a drawer with other scraps of notes that my Grandmother had,” Grace replied.
“Do you think it's possible that your Grandmother hosted some famous people here at her B&B.” Barry queried. “Maybe we had better check out all this stuff before you sell the place. Did she have a guest book?”
“That's another 'I don't know', Barry. There's so much stuff in her little room that I've barely scratched the surface. Right now we still have a lot do to before dinner. Can we discuss this all later?” Grace was hoping to have made more progress and wasn't sure she wanted to delve into anything more at this point.
The group cleared up their lunch and headed back to work. Grace checked the guest rooms upstairs and even though her friends were staying there, they sparkled. They guys had cleared most of the clutter around the outside and were checking the pathway to the front door to make sure there was nothing to cause any tripping. The removal of the weeds and cutting back some of the overgrown bushes gave the cottage a very fresh look.
Under some of the overgrowth were some roses that had started to go wild. with some careful pruning the blooms would bring lots of color to the garden. Grace noticed some tags at the bottom of the trunks of the roses. One said Ballerina, another was tagged Apothecary. Grace took this to mean that these were tags to identify the specific roses. As the guys were clearing the shrubbery close to the cottage they found another bush. It was tagged Sweetheart and was climbing the cottage wall. Grace would have to do some research on the different types of roses. The Sweetheart had to be carefully removed from the wall of the cottage to prep for painting. Then it would receive a trellis to climb.
Grace could see how the garden was set up now that it was cleared. A beautiful English garden style full of color. She would need to replace some of the plants that had gone wild and some that had died from lack of water. But in the end, it would be full of life, just like her Grandmother.
Friday, February 4, 2011
All Roads Lead to Swatragh - Chapter 12
The craic went well into the wee hours of the morning before everyone headed to their rooms for a sweet night of slumber. Grace was the last one to bed after clearing off the table and getting the last of the dishes washed. She checked her menu for breakfast in the morning and headed to her room on the main floor, setting her clock for 6:00am. There would be very little sleep tonight, but she was really enjoying herself.
Six o'clock came quickly and Grace hopped out of bed, quickly showered, and threw on some jeans and a sweater. In the kitchen she started some water boiling for tea, set the table with tea cups, milk and sugar and headed back to the kitchen to start the scones. This time there was no mess and the scent of baking wafted throughout the cottage.
Grace set the rest of her supplies out so she could quickly make her eggs, toast and bacon for her guests. She could hear the showers running from upstairs and knew her friends were getting up. She wished she had some fresh flowers for the table. Something she had not thought of before. If only the garden in the front of the cottage was planted as it used to be, she would have some beautiful roses for the table.
The timer going off brought her back to the reality of the kitchen and she pulled the scones from the oven and took them to the table just as Kelly arrived downstairs.
“I can't remember when I've had such a wonder sleep. Must been the great country atmosphere.” Kelly was just bubbling. “Wow, fresh baked scones. Grace you are going to spoil us.”
The stairs rumbled as the rest of the group arrived in the dining room. Grace took orders and headed to the kitchen to add eggs, toast and bacon to the table for breakfast. Erin, Keith, Anna, Kate and Barry all raved about how well they slept, and how comfortable the rooms were. They were obviously enjoying their stay.
“Don't get to relaxed,” Grace warned as she put the food on the table. “Remember you are here to give me a hand to get this place in shape so I can put it on the market to sell. We have a full of day work here. So make sure you have enough energy to get through at least until lunch.”
“Grace, at least give us some time this morning to recover from last night,” Keith pleaded as he poured another cup of tea.
“So while you are all enjoying your last cup of tea for now, I've got a list of things and assignments for today. If we get it all done, we can party again tonight,” Grace stated as she passed out the list of things that needed to be done.
“Boy, just like work, Grace is organized and in charge of getting things done,” laughed Barry.
Everyone finished their tea and headed toward their assignments as Grace cleared the table from breakfast, did more dishes, and headed to join the others. She was already feeling the exhaustion from a lack of sleep and all the cooking she had done since the night before.
Six o'clock came quickly and Grace hopped out of bed, quickly showered, and threw on some jeans and a sweater. In the kitchen she started some water boiling for tea, set the table with tea cups, milk and sugar and headed back to the kitchen to start the scones. This time there was no mess and the scent of baking wafted throughout the cottage.
Grace set the rest of her supplies out so she could quickly make her eggs, toast and bacon for her guests. She could hear the showers running from upstairs and knew her friends were getting up. She wished she had some fresh flowers for the table. Something she had not thought of before. If only the garden in the front of the cottage was planted as it used to be, she would have some beautiful roses for the table.
The timer going off brought her back to the reality of the kitchen and she pulled the scones from the oven and took them to the table just as Kelly arrived downstairs.
“I can't remember when I've had such a wonder sleep. Must been the great country atmosphere.” Kelly was just bubbling. “Wow, fresh baked scones. Grace you are going to spoil us.”
The stairs rumbled as the rest of the group arrived in the dining room. Grace took orders and headed to the kitchen to add eggs, toast and bacon to the table for breakfast. Erin, Keith, Anna, Kate and Barry all raved about how well they slept, and how comfortable the rooms were. They were obviously enjoying their stay.
“Don't get to relaxed,” Grace warned as she put the food on the table. “Remember you are here to give me a hand to get this place in shape so I can put it on the market to sell. We have a full of day work here. So make sure you have enough energy to get through at least until lunch.”
“Grace, at least give us some time this morning to recover from last night,” Keith pleaded as he poured another cup of tea.
“So while you are all enjoying your last cup of tea for now, I've got a list of things and assignments for today. If we get it all done, we can party again tonight,” Grace stated as she passed out the list of things that needed to be done.
“Boy, just like work, Grace is organized and in charge of getting things done,” laughed Barry.
Everyone finished their tea and headed toward their assignments as Grace cleared the table from breakfast, did more dishes, and headed to join the others. She was already feeling the exhaustion from a lack of sleep and all the cooking she had done since the night before.
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