The drive seemed like it took forever as Grace arrived back in Dublin in the late afternoon. She was glad to be home, and took a deep breath as she put the key in the door of her flat. She pushed the door open and dragged in her bags along with some of the groceries she brought back with her. The flat smelled like it had been closed up for a bit, slightly musty, and stale. First things first, Grace thought to herself and immediately walked to the windows to open them up and let the fresh air in.
In the back of her mind came the thought that letting in the fresh air here was just not as nice as opening the windows at the cottage. The smell of the morning dew and fragrant flowers from the cottage garden was missing. She shrugged and went about getting the groceries into the small fridge and taking her clothes to the bedroom. Things here seemed so closed in. In the two weeks she had been gone, she had gotten used to the openness of the cottage.
Trying to push all the thoughts of the cottage out of her mind for the time being Grace busied herself with getting things in order for the coming work week. She was sure with being gone, things would have piled up on her desk and she'd be spending late hours this next week just to catch up. The company had divided up her accounts for when she would be gone so that assignments would not go past their due dates, but that didn't mean with new assignments coming in that there would not be a ton to get done.
Grace made a small cheese plate for herself for dinner with some cheese she brought back from Swatragh, and sat down with that along with bread she had packed up and a glass of wine. Not much room for any real cooking was a thought that crept into her mind as she sipped the wine.
Monday mornings were always a flurry of greetings and quick times to catch up at the office. Grace was quite surprised when she saw her desk and it was not piled up with assignments. The morning board showed a department meeting almost as soon as everyone arrived, so she grabbed her cup of tea and headed to the conference room. The mood turned somber as soon as everyone arrived. She seemed to be very out of the loop and took a seat next to Keith, who had been up to Swatragh to visit with his wife Anna.
He smiled as he asked, “So you decided to make it back here? Might have been better if you had stayed at the cottage. This is not going to be pretty.”
“What does that mean, Keith?” Grace was suddenly confused.
“It's a tough economy Grace. I don't think we've been getting enough work coming in,” Keith was somber in his response.
Just as Keith finished their boss entered the room apologizing for the early Monday morning meeting. Keith had been right. The firm was struggling, and some changes had to be made. They all needed to consider how to cut costs and still stay afloat. This was to be a planning meeting and some tough decisions would need to be made. Grace was panicked to say the least. Her first thought was she needed to be the one staying full time to be able to support herself. At this point, that was the general consensus for each of the members of the group.
Their boss made it clear that any creative ideas would be welcome so that no one had to be let go. He understood the need to keep everyone employed during this tough economy, but still needed to keep his business from going under. Ideas to bring in more business were also suggested. But at this point the one thing that was clear was that the salary overhead had to be cut. They would meet again on Wednesday morning to see what ideas everyone had come up with to cut overhead. This was not something that could be done in one day. The cheerful Monday morning office mood changed to very quiet as everyone headed back to their assignments.
Grace left the meeting disheartened. She had come back from her two week vacation rested and ready to dig in with her assignments. There were only three on her desk and they would all be done by the end of the week. She usually had ten or more assignments going at once with varying deadlines. It always seemed as she finished one or two, more would show up on her desk.
As Grace was sitting at home that night she started to crunch numbers for herself. She was a planner, as always, and needed to be able to prepare for any cut in job or pay as this week went forward. If only she had been able to sell the cottage, she'd have a reasonable slush fund to lean on during this time.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Sunday, April 24, 2011
All Roads Lead to Swatragh - Chapter 24
Grace was packing up her things to return to Dublin when she heard Peter's truck on the gravel drive. She ran from her room to put the scones from the day before into the heated oven so they would warm just enough for breakfast and then headed to the front door to meet Peter.
Peter had not come up to the porch yet. He was looking at the roses in the garden. The buds had started to bloom in the mild weather and Peter seemed to be looking for something.
“Where's Grace?” he asked as he turned to see Grace come down the porch stairs. He was looking for the David Austin rose named Grace that he had given to Grace.
“It's still a little small and gets dwarfed by some of the others. It's right here,” Grace pointed as she made sure Peter saw where it was. “By the way, Peter, when I'm gone these roses are going to need to attention. Do you think you are up to making sure they are watered regularly? I have found that they are very thirsty plants.”
“Oh, sure I can do that,” Peter answered and Grace was not even sure he had heard the question. “Look, it has several buds already. Do you think it will bloom soon?”
“I'm not sure about that, it's pretty small. Hey, we need to get into the cottage, or there are going to be some very burnt scones,” Grace had almost forgotten about them.
Peter and Grace headed into the house and to the kitchen. They would sit at a small table in the kitchen instead of the large dining room. Grace pulled the scones out of the over and put them on plates with a scoop of clotted cream to the side. The table already had the whiskey marmalade to go along with the scones. Peter, being familiar with the kitchen from helping Grace heated water for tea and set up the cups at the table.
When they finally sat down they both laughed at how well they worked together and Grace watched Peter close his eyes in joy as he took his first bite of the scone.
“Peter, so I wanted to ask if when you come by running if you would check on the cottage. I can give you a key. I'm not sure if I'll be back in one week, or two.” Grace was not sure how she would feel about all of this once she was back in Dublin, but since the cottage was not going to be sold, it still needed to be looked after.
“Grace, no problem. Just leave a key with Donovan. If I can't make it by, I'm sure he would be more than willing to help. Is there anything that needs to be done?”
“Peter, just the watering of the roses,” Grace knew now that Peter had not heard her before, or was too busy looking for the David Austin rose that he never heard her. She smiled.
“So will you call me and let me know when you will be back?” Peter asked.
“I'll call, but it will probably be two weeks. And I'm going to send you home with the left over scones and a few other perishables that might not make the trip back to Dublin with me.” Grace was trying to get moving and Peter seemed to be stalling.
Finally Grace got up from the table and gathered together items to send with Peter. He got the message, took his package and said his good bye to Grace. As he pulled out of the driveway Grace headed back to her room to finish packing. She was hoping to be ready to leave before noon, so she would not get back to Dublin too late, but she was already running late.
As she opened the front door she saw Donovan heading over. Grace place her bag off to the side and met Donovan on the porch. She explained the plan to have Peter take care of watering the roses and that she planned to be back in about two weekends when she could reassess what she was going to do.
“So no sale for now?” Donovan commented and Grace thought she saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
“Not at this point Donovan. I need to make some plans and talk to some people when I'm back in the city. I need to get back to my job on Monday, and take care of things I have let go at home,” Grace explained to Donovan. “In fact, I need to head out pretty soon, so I can have some time this evening to get organized for the coming work week.”
“Aye, I understand, lassie. So you trust Peter to handle these chores? I'll be on him if he lets things go,” Donovan chuckled. “I'll let you head out, but expect to see you soon. Nothin' sadder than an empty cottage that's lookin' for some company.”
Grace give Donovan the extra key, and gave him a gentle hug goodbye. As she loaded her car with a few groceries and her suitcase, she turned to look back at the cottage. It was so inviting from the outside now, and the inside had such a nice warm feeling too. She felt a bit sad as she climbed into the driver's seat, but shook the feeling off as she focused on heading back to Dublin.
It would take at least three hours to get back to Dublin. Grace was happy she lived on the north side of the city so she didn't have to fight too much traffic.
Peter had not come up to the porch yet. He was looking at the roses in the garden. The buds had started to bloom in the mild weather and Peter seemed to be looking for something.
“Where's Grace?” he asked as he turned to see Grace come down the porch stairs. He was looking for the David Austin rose named Grace that he had given to Grace.
“It's still a little small and gets dwarfed by some of the others. It's right here,” Grace pointed as she made sure Peter saw where it was. “By the way, Peter, when I'm gone these roses are going to need to attention. Do you think you are up to making sure they are watered regularly? I have found that they are very thirsty plants.”
“Oh, sure I can do that,” Peter answered and Grace was not even sure he had heard the question. “Look, it has several buds already. Do you think it will bloom soon?”
“I'm not sure about that, it's pretty small. Hey, we need to get into the cottage, or there are going to be some very burnt scones,” Grace had almost forgotten about them.
Peter and Grace headed into the house and to the kitchen. They would sit at a small table in the kitchen instead of the large dining room. Grace pulled the scones out of the over and put them on plates with a scoop of clotted cream to the side. The table already had the whiskey marmalade to go along with the scones. Peter, being familiar with the kitchen from helping Grace heated water for tea and set up the cups at the table.
When they finally sat down they both laughed at how well they worked together and Grace watched Peter close his eyes in joy as he took his first bite of the scone.
“Peter, so I wanted to ask if when you come by running if you would check on the cottage. I can give you a key. I'm not sure if I'll be back in one week, or two.” Grace was not sure how she would feel about all of this once she was back in Dublin, but since the cottage was not going to be sold, it still needed to be looked after.
“Grace, no problem. Just leave a key with Donovan. If I can't make it by, I'm sure he would be more than willing to help. Is there anything that needs to be done?”
“Peter, just the watering of the roses,” Grace knew now that Peter had not heard her before, or was too busy looking for the David Austin rose that he never heard her. She smiled.
“So will you call me and let me know when you will be back?” Peter asked.
“I'll call, but it will probably be two weeks. And I'm going to send you home with the left over scones and a few other perishables that might not make the trip back to Dublin with me.” Grace was trying to get moving and Peter seemed to be stalling.
Finally Grace got up from the table and gathered together items to send with Peter. He got the message, took his package and said his good bye to Grace. As he pulled out of the driveway Grace headed back to her room to finish packing. She was hoping to be ready to leave before noon, so she would not get back to Dublin too late, but she was already running late.
As she opened the front door she saw Donovan heading over. Grace place her bag off to the side and met Donovan on the porch. She explained the plan to have Peter take care of watering the roses and that she planned to be back in about two weekends when she could reassess what she was going to do.
“So no sale for now?” Donovan commented and Grace thought she saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
“Not at this point Donovan. I need to make some plans and talk to some people when I'm back in the city. I need to get back to my job on Monday, and take care of things I have let go at home,” Grace explained to Donovan. “In fact, I need to head out pretty soon, so I can have some time this evening to get organized for the coming work week.”
“Aye, I understand, lassie. So you trust Peter to handle these chores? I'll be on him if he lets things go,” Donovan chuckled. “I'll let you head out, but expect to see you soon. Nothin' sadder than an empty cottage that's lookin' for some company.”
Grace give Donovan the extra key, and gave him a gentle hug goodbye. As she loaded her car with a few groceries and her suitcase, she turned to look back at the cottage. It was so inviting from the outside now, and the inside had such a nice warm feeling too. She felt a bit sad as she climbed into the driver's seat, but shook the feeling off as she focused on heading back to Dublin.
It would take at least three hours to get back to Dublin. Grace was happy she lived on the north side of the city so she didn't have to fight too much traffic.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
All Roads Lead to Swatragh - Chapter 23
Dinner time arrived quickly and Grace hear the crunch of Peter's truck on the gravel driveway. As Peter entered he stopped to take a big whiff of all the flavors of the dinner awaiting him.
“Mmmm.... Have to say you have probably outdone yourself today Grace,” Peter knew how much Grace appreciated the compliments.
“Peter, you are so full of it....,” Grace laughed. “Come on it and get the bottle of wine opened for us, will you?”
Peter and Grace felt very comfortable with each other. There was no pressure, and Peter avoided the discussion of the sale of the cottage waiting to see if Grace would bring it up.
“I guess you and Donovan will be having your way, at least for the moment,” Grace started the conversation.
She told Peter about the tough market and how so much money would be lost if she even tired to sell the cottage now. How it seemed like such a shame to just give it away after all the work that had been put into bringing it back to the gem that it once was.
Peter could see how conflicted Grace was about the sale of the cottage and assured her that he and Donovan would be keeping an eye out so that nothing happened while she was gone. This helped Grace with her decision to go back to Dublin for a couple of weeks before she came back to the cottage for a weekend knowing the cottage would be empty.
All this time they had been enjoy their wine and the wonderful lamb pie that Grace made. As they finished dinner, Grace asked Peter if he was ready for dessert.
“How about we let dessert wait for a bit. If this is you last few days here in Swatragh, how about if we go down to Rafter's for a pint and a little music,” Peter seemed to be coming out of his shell with Grace.
Grace agreed and they set off for Rafter's. As they settled in the music started and with a couple of pints in front of them, they joined in with the others clapping and singing along with the musicians. On occasion one of the regulars would come by and say hi to Peter. He would then introduce them to Grace and they all had surprising things to say to her about how wonderful the cottage looked. She was already prepared for all the questions about opening the cottage explaining that she needed to return to Dublin first and would be back in a couple of weeks. That seemed to calm any curiosities about a sale.
Grace and Peter were feeling the buzz of the stout and as it got later decided they had better depart the pub while they were still able to drive back down the road. As Peter drove the truck into the driveway, Grace suddenly remembered about the scones.
“We never had dessert!” she explained.
“Then I guess I'll have to come by tomorrow morning,” Peter chuckled as he opened the door for Grace. “We both need to sleep off our drinking for tonight.” Grace looked at Peter as she hopped down from her seat. Almost a pause, then she turned to head to the porch.
"See you in the morning."
Grace stood at the door as Peter drove off. What a nice guy, she thought as she turned to put the scones away so she could just heat them a little in the morning. This was the first night in a few that Grace slept soundly. The window was open a bit and the cool fresh evening air carried her away to a happy sound sleep.
“Mmmm.... Have to say you have probably outdone yourself today Grace,” Peter knew how much Grace appreciated the compliments.
“Peter, you are so full of it....,” Grace laughed. “Come on it and get the bottle of wine opened for us, will you?”
Peter and Grace felt very comfortable with each other. There was no pressure, and Peter avoided the discussion of the sale of the cottage waiting to see if Grace would bring it up.
“I guess you and Donovan will be having your way, at least for the moment,” Grace started the conversation.
She told Peter about the tough market and how so much money would be lost if she even tired to sell the cottage now. How it seemed like such a shame to just give it away after all the work that had been put into bringing it back to the gem that it once was.
Peter could see how conflicted Grace was about the sale of the cottage and assured her that he and Donovan would be keeping an eye out so that nothing happened while she was gone. This helped Grace with her decision to go back to Dublin for a couple of weeks before she came back to the cottage for a weekend knowing the cottage would be empty.
All this time they had been enjoy their wine and the wonderful lamb pie that Grace made. As they finished dinner, Grace asked Peter if he was ready for dessert.
“How about we let dessert wait for a bit. If this is you last few days here in Swatragh, how about if we go down to Rafter's for a pint and a little music,” Peter seemed to be coming out of his shell with Grace.
Grace agreed and they set off for Rafter's. As they settled in the music started and with a couple of pints in front of them, they joined in with the others clapping and singing along with the musicians. On occasion one of the regulars would come by and say hi to Peter. He would then introduce them to Grace and they all had surprising things to say to her about how wonderful the cottage looked. She was already prepared for all the questions about opening the cottage explaining that she needed to return to Dublin first and would be back in a couple of weeks. That seemed to calm any curiosities about a sale.
Grace and Peter were feeling the buzz of the stout and as it got later decided they had better depart the pub while they were still able to drive back down the road. As Peter drove the truck into the driveway, Grace suddenly remembered about the scones.
“We never had dessert!” she explained.
“Then I guess I'll have to come by tomorrow morning,” Peter chuckled as he opened the door for Grace. “We both need to sleep off our drinking for tonight.” Grace looked at Peter as she hopped down from her seat. Almost a pause, then she turned to head to the porch.
"See you in the morning."
Grace stood at the door as Peter drove off. What a nice guy, she thought as she turned to put the scones away so she could just heat them a little in the morning. This was the first night in a few that Grace slept soundly. The window was open a bit and the cool fresh evening air carried her away to a happy sound sleep.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
All Roads Lead to Swatragh - Chapter 22
Grace dragged herself though the day. She was going through the motions but not feeling herself at all. About midday she sat down with her list and a cup of tea only to be interrupted by a knock at the door. She must have forgotten something.
She opened the door to a small man dressed in a suit like he was selling something. In fact he did sell a service, he was the property consultant she had called. His name was Jimmy Tunney. Not exactly what she expected in terms of a professional, but then again, this was not Dublin.
“Hello miss. You called about an appraisal on this cottage? Are you looking to sell?” Jimmy questioned as soon as Grace took his card.
“Why yes, I wanted an appraisal so I could make a decision about the sale. Do you do that?” Grace was a little concerned about Jimmy's credentials, but thought she'd give it a go.
“Could I have a look see? I need to know what you've got here. Seems well kept up from the outside. New paint?” Jimmy seemed to never stop talking.
“Yes, the outside has been freshly painted. Inside it's just had a good cleaning up. There are 3 bedrooms ensuite upstairs, and one down here. The kitchen is large and the appliances are not too old,” Grace was trying to show off the best parts of the cottage.
Jimmy roamed from room to room, nodding his head, muttering to himself, taking down a note or two as he wandered the cottage.
“Yep, this here's a nice enough place. It's really a shame though,” Jimmy turned to Grace with this reply.
“A shame what?” Grace asked. She could not read this guy for the life of her.
“Oh, I'm just talkin' about the market right now. You'd never get near a penny to it's worth. Money is tight, and folks are not doing much purchasing right now. At least not places this big. Maybe if it was a small two bedroom cottage for a newly wed couple, but not this place. It would be a huge loss financially,” Jimmy concluded his assessment.
“So you're saying you won't take this on for sale?” Grace was trying to get a straight answer.
“Miss, I'd gladly take it on, but with what you should be askin', it will be on the market for months, maybe a year or more. This is just not the time to sell a place like this. Can't you continue running it as a B&B? You'd probably be making some decent money doing that.” Jimmy was trying to explain.
“What is it with everyone? I'm not a B&B owner. I work in Dublin. I have a job there. I can't stay here,” Grace was getting very frustrated.
“No need to holler miss, but you'd do just as well shutting the door and walking away for a while if you need to go back to the Big Smoke. I'm just saying that sales are tough right now and I'm not even sure I could sell it on the cheap.”
“Well, then, I guess we're done doing any business if you can't, or won't sell this place, Jimmy,” Grace was tired and cranky and Jimmy's news was not very welcome. “Thanks for coming out.”
Grace was totally frustrated now. Whatever was she going to do? She needed to get back to Dublin on the weekend. Maybe being back in the city would help her figure out what to do. She could just lock up the place and come back in a couple of weeks on a weekend to see if she had any better ideas. For the time being it might make a nice weekend get away for her. Problem was she didn't like the idea of roaming around this big empty place alone either. It was too big just for her.
For now she needed to finish up dinner preparations for when Peter arrived. The least she could do was make him a scrumptious dinner with his favorite scones for desert. It was difficult to stop thinking about what she was going to do. Distracted was hardly what she needed now. The lamb pie needed all her focus. If she wasn't careful she would burn the crusty topping and all would be lost with the burnt smell.
Grace forced herself to concentrate on the recipe. Aine always had her little secret additions of herbs, or spices that made the difference in a recipe. But with lamb pie, using spring lamb, there was not much to be added in terms of flavor. Spring lamb fed on the flowers and grasses of the hillsides. Their meat was tender and juicy without any fuss. But overcooked, or burned turned some very special meal into a disaster. So focus she did with all the intensity she could muster. Soon the kitchen was perfumed with the smell of the stewing meat and Grace was pleased with how the meal was progressing. The pie topping would be added the last few minutes to brown in the oven.
Now just a gathering of some fresh greens and for a salad and she was ready to set the table. Once Grace was in the rhythm of making all the preparations, she flowed from kitchen to dining table effortlessly as it she had been doing this all her life. It was just another dinner party, but she hardly thought about anything but a beautiful table and the delicious food she would be putting out. She was feeling very comfortable in this role while she didn't even realize it.
She opened the door to a small man dressed in a suit like he was selling something. In fact he did sell a service, he was the property consultant she had called. His name was Jimmy Tunney. Not exactly what she expected in terms of a professional, but then again, this was not Dublin.
“Hello miss. You called about an appraisal on this cottage? Are you looking to sell?” Jimmy questioned as soon as Grace took his card.
“Why yes, I wanted an appraisal so I could make a decision about the sale. Do you do that?” Grace was a little concerned about Jimmy's credentials, but thought she'd give it a go.
“Could I have a look see? I need to know what you've got here. Seems well kept up from the outside. New paint?” Jimmy seemed to never stop talking.
“Yes, the outside has been freshly painted. Inside it's just had a good cleaning up. There are 3 bedrooms ensuite upstairs, and one down here. The kitchen is large and the appliances are not too old,” Grace was trying to show off the best parts of the cottage.
Jimmy roamed from room to room, nodding his head, muttering to himself, taking down a note or two as he wandered the cottage.
“Yep, this here's a nice enough place. It's really a shame though,” Jimmy turned to Grace with this reply.
“A shame what?” Grace asked. She could not read this guy for the life of her.
“Oh, I'm just talkin' about the market right now. You'd never get near a penny to it's worth. Money is tight, and folks are not doing much purchasing right now. At least not places this big. Maybe if it was a small two bedroom cottage for a newly wed couple, but not this place. It would be a huge loss financially,” Jimmy concluded his assessment.
“So you're saying you won't take this on for sale?” Grace was trying to get a straight answer.
“Miss, I'd gladly take it on, but with what you should be askin', it will be on the market for months, maybe a year or more. This is just not the time to sell a place like this. Can't you continue running it as a B&B? You'd probably be making some decent money doing that.” Jimmy was trying to explain.
“What is it with everyone? I'm not a B&B owner. I work in Dublin. I have a job there. I can't stay here,” Grace was getting very frustrated.
“No need to holler miss, but you'd do just as well shutting the door and walking away for a while if you need to go back to the Big Smoke. I'm just saying that sales are tough right now and I'm not even sure I could sell it on the cheap.”
“Well, then, I guess we're done doing any business if you can't, or won't sell this place, Jimmy,” Grace was tired and cranky and Jimmy's news was not very welcome. “Thanks for coming out.”
Grace was totally frustrated now. Whatever was she going to do? She needed to get back to Dublin on the weekend. Maybe being back in the city would help her figure out what to do. She could just lock up the place and come back in a couple of weeks on a weekend to see if she had any better ideas. For the time being it might make a nice weekend get away for her. Problem was she didn't like the idea of roaming around this big empty place alone either. It was too big just for her.
For now she needed to finish up dinner preparations for when Peter arrived. The least she could do was make him a scrumptious dinner with his favorite scones for desert. It was difficult to stop thinking about what she was going to do. Distracted was hardly what she needed now. The lamb pie needed all her focus. If she wasn't careful she would burn the crusty topping and all would be lost with the burnt smell.
Grace forced herself to concentrate on the recipe. Aine always had her little secret additions of herbs, or spices that made the difference in a recipe. But with lamb pie, using spring lamb, there was not much to be added in terms of flavor. Spring lamb fed on the flowers and grasses of the hillsides. Their meat was tender and juicy without any fuss. But overcooked, or burned turned some very special meal into a disaster. So focus she did with all the intensity she could muster. Soon the kitchen was perfumed with the smell of the stewing meat and Grace was pleased with how the meal was progressing. The pie topping would be added the last few minutes to brown in the oven.
Now just a gathering of some fresh greens and for a salad and she was ready to set the table. Once Grace was in the rhythm of making all the preparations, she flowed from kitchen to dining table effortlessly as it she had been doing this all her life. It was just another dinner party, but she hardly thought about anything but a beautiful table and the delicious food she would be putting out. She was feeling very comfortable in this role while she didn't even realize it.
Monday, April 4, 2011
All Roads Lead to Swatragh - Chapter 21
Grace felt very restless that evening. Even spending time sitting in Aine's over-sized chair didn't help to comfort her. She paced the cottage. Walked in and out of the kitchen as if she thought she might do some cooking, but there was nothing she needed, or wanted, to prepare. She felt like the cottage was closing in on her.
It was still a little light out, so she decided that the roses in the garden could use a little watering. That might help her to settle down. As she moved from bush to bush she recalled the names of the roses. This was not something she would have ever known in Dublin. Small flat, with a small kitchen, and no garden. Would she feel closed in when she got back there?
She looked up to see Donovan peering out his window. He didn't come out, just shook his head and walked away closing the curtain. He was still upset about her selling the cottage. She needed to rectify this situation, but at the moment didn't know how. Once the garden was watered Grace went back into the cottage and headed upstairs to shower thinking that a hot shower would help her settle down from the news of earlier today.
Grace tried to convince herself that she was feeling better after the shower, but she knew she was only fooling herself. A wee bit of some whiskey would help, that's for sure. It was a bit more than a wee bit when Grace had finished off a good portion and headed to bed hoping the whiskey would do it's job and let her get a good night's sleep.
A restful sleep was not to be had this night. It was full of visions of Aine and visits to the cottage as a young girl. And somewhere in those visions she caught a glimpse of Sheila and Peter as a young couple. They were vibrant and happy as they walked through the garden. Smiling and very much in love.
Grace dreamed about seeing Aine and Donovan chatting at the stone wall, Donovan much younger with a twinkle in his eye. She dreamed of the hum of a busy cottage full of guests chatting with each other, laughing, dancing to the phonograph, and sitting in a quiet corner writing. There was so much life to the cottage. What had she done?
It must have been around 4:00am when Grace dragged herself out of bed. She ached all over from tossing and turning all night. She went downstairs and curled up in Aine's chair with a notepad and pen. As was her best strength, she needed a plan and the one she had was not going to work. It was time to open her mind to some different options.
Grace was due to head back to Dubin in 2 days and had an appointment with a property consultant that afternoon. She needed information to make a plan and hoped that meeting with the property consultant would help. She brewed a strong cup of tea and started her list of questions.
As she worked on questions that needed answers, her body finally relaxed and she dozed off until the sun came streaming through the window. Her tea was cold, but she felt at least somewhat refreshed with the few hours of restful sleep. Still with no definite resolution as to what she would do, she washed up and started her day with a recipe of scones for Peter when he came over that evening. As she made the scones she smiled remember back just over a week that she could barely make these and Peter had helped.
It was still a little light out, so she decided that the roses in the garden could use a little watering. That might help her to settle down. As she moved from bush to bush she recalled the names of the roses. This was not something she would have ever known in Dublin. Small flat, with a small kitchen, and no garden. Would she feel closed in when she got back there?
She looked up to see Donovan peering out his window. He didn't come out, just shook his head and walked away closing the curtain. He was still upset about her selling the cottage. She needed to rectify this situation, but at the moment didn't know how. Once the garden was watered Grace went back into the cottage and headed upstairs to shower thinking that a hot shower would help her settle down from the news of earlier today.
Grace tried to convince herself that she was feeling better after the shower, but she knew she was only fooling herself. A wee bit of some whiskey would help, that's for sure. It was a bit more than a wee bit when Grace had finished off a good portion and headed to bed hoping the whiskey would do it's job and let her get a good night's sleep.
A restful sleep was not to be had this night. It was full of visions of Aine and visits to the cottage as a young girl. And somewhere in those visions she caught a glimpse of Sheila and Peter as a young couple. They were vibrant and happy as they walked through the garden. Smiling and very much in love.
Grace dreamed about seeing Aine and Donovan chatting at the stone wall, Donovan much younger with a twinkle in his eye. She dreamed of the hum of a busy cottage full of guests chatting with each other, laughing, dancing to the phonograph, and sitting in a quiet corner writing. There was so much life to the cottage. What had she done?
It must have been around 4:00am when Grace dragged herself out of bed. She ached all over from tossing and turning all night. She went downstairs and curled up in Aine's chair with a notepad and pen. As was her best strength, she needed a plan and the one she had was not going to work. It was time to open her mind to some different options.
Grace was due to head back to Dubin in 2 days and had an appointment with a property consultant that afternoon. She needed information to make a plan and hoped that meeting with the property consultant would help. She brewed a strong cup of tea and started her list of questions.
As she worked on questions that needed answers, her body finally relaxed and she dozed off until the sun came streaming through the window. Her tea was cold, but she felt at least somewhat refreshed with the few hours of restful sleep. Still with no definite resolution as to what she would do, she washed up and started her day with a recipe of scones for Peter when he came over that evening. As she made the scones she smiled remember back just over a week that she could barely make these and Peter had helped.
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