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The Leaving Cert and Junior Cert exams started last week. I was travelling to Wexford that first morning and the sun was shining brilliantly.
The exams resonate with me through the people I know sitting them. Jessica, Tim’s niece, is doing the Leaving Cert, as is my nephew, Conor. I’m thinking of them as I go. I was also thinking of Meghan starting her Junior Cert.
Meghan lost her darling mother, Sonya, only 10 months ago. So many students go into their exams carrying personal baggage. It is really difficult for them.
Typically, at exam times, the temperature gauge was reading 23.5oC.
Leaving Cert means change
As I went around the big hairpin bends in Dungarvan, the sea and bay came into view. The tide was out and the sun’s reflection on the mud and sand created a shimmering reflection of textures as land blended into sea and sky. There was just one colour of varying silvery hues.
I thought about the summer we holidayed near Dungarvan. I had them all together under my wing. Those were such safe and happy times. When we went on those little holidays we didn’t realise just how fleeting time was and how quickly they would grow up.
The concentration was on packing, feeding provisions and how the children would be amused. We had beautiful weather in Clonea and spent the two weeks on the beach and in the water. My cousin Trisha came with her gang and we had a lovely holiday.
Other years, it was repeated in west Cork and Co Kerry. The children got older and we ventured to Wales, France and Spain. How quickly time passes. Then Leaving Cert came and went and family holidays were consigned to history.
The Leaving Cert is stressful for families on many levels. Hopes of a bright future are invested in it. Fear of not performing to the best of one’s ability is real. Mammies are fussing and the worry meter is at a phenomenal high. Parents know this is a time when the dynamic in the family is changing. The next step is away from home and on to college. That brings pressure.
Phenomenal growth
Meanwhile, I awaited a call to say that the silage contractors had pulled in at home. 60 acres of silage was due to be picked up. Some of it had been down for several days. It represented almost the entire silage requirement for next winter. It was valuable and needed to be pitted.
The contractors got a breakdown and then another one. Frustration in our farming world was building. The men were opening gates and wires for the imminent arrival of the machines only to close them again in the evening.
Everyone was cranky and each thought it was the other person. Silage making is a stressful time in the farming calendar. There wasn’t much I could do only listen and provide food. A few days previously, I made a big shepherd’s pie and a tart for the team. Two days went by with the shepherd’s pie open.
My men got sick of it and the rest went to the dogs. Before I headed to Wexford, we were at the end of our tether. I made a big saucepan of chicken curry and there were some brownies in the freezer. I would probably be back again before they were needed.
The grass growth that day was at 135kgs of DM/ha. There was phenomenal growth and had been for the previous two weeks. It meant that as contractors pulled into farms, there was more grass to be knocked and they would be longer at each farm. That’s the contractors’ reality and it quickly became ours.
I kept an eye on my phone. At lunch time I knew it was all systems go at home. I felt real relief. I drove home and as I came in the drive there were seven men heading for the house. I got my timing very wrong! Another half hour and I’d have missed the serving process. Still, the team at home had everything under control. When moms work, children learn to cook and cope. The Leaving Cert won’t teach you that but growing up on a farm will.
Later that night, I woke to hear the dogs barking. The men had returned at 2.30am for the cars that were left in the farmyard. I rolled over glad that I was in my bed and that the tension had ebbed. Contractors operate on very little sleep during silage time. It is not healthy or safe but a reality that cannot be avoided. For us, the pit is full. Bales are made and anything more will be surplus. If the weather remains dry, we may not get any more. Time will tell.
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