One wellie boot stands in the garage amidst about 20 others. I wish I could say that they are nicely arranged in pairs along the wall. Instead, three pairs are visible, my husband Tim’s and my sons’; Colm’s and Diarmuid’s. These are the daily working team. The rest are tossed in a pile. Bran and Speedy, our faithful dogs, are mostly responsible for the heap due to their tumbling around in playful glee and knocking them over. My other boot has been missing for a while. Bran likes to run off with a wellie. Sometimes he carries it all the way to the farmyard, some 300m away. The boot is usually recovered by one of us within a few hours but this one has remained missing for a while. It’s probably in the garden somewhere. I haven’t been in the farmyard or garden much since my surgery in June so the wellie recovery hasn’t been urgent.

Subconscious yearnings

It’s really interesting how our subconscious brain works. I was doing a small bit of weeding in the garden trying to get fit again. Lack of activity has drained me of my fitness and usual, agile nature. I now have to start working on physical activity seriously. The garden is in a right state after great growth over the summer and I’m going to enjoy bringing it back into shape. The pink Sedums are in bloom. A few anemones are blooming.

Orange rose hips pick up the tones of rust in curling copper leaves. The scents are of harvest

The autumn colours are starting to emerge. Orange rose hips pick up the tones of rust in curling copper leaves. The scents are of harvest. The seed heads on grasses provide swaying interest. Pods are full and popping all over the place. The soil is in ideal condition for planting bulbs for next spring. I’ve this sudden hankering to give my wellies a good scrub! This should be Ploughing Championships week. I feel the anticipation, although nothing is happening. Those wellies should be at the ready. I’ve a few red tops hanging in the wardrobe waiting for their yearly outing. Red and black are our distinctive Irish Farmers Journal colours and it’s important to be organised.

The Ploughing excursion is a leveller pre winter

I haven’t seen any of my Irish Country Living colleagues since last year. Locked in this COVID-19 bubble; I miss our gatherings, conferences and meetings. The Ploughing excursion is a leveller pre winter. I could write a list of the friends that my wellies and I meet. I’ve an unwritten arrangement to grab lunch with one or two. So many people, cousins, neighbours and friends seek us out to chat at the Irish Country Living events. I love the Ploughing and will miss it terribly this year. I will miss the stories of triumph, challenge and success that readers share with us. I will miss seeing my friends face to face. Instead it’s going to be just another week.

New way to socialise

Two Dublin-based journalists were discussing the reopening of the remainder of the pubs on the radio. “People won’t rush back to the pubs. They are fearful of going into pubs,” one said. “People have found new ways of socialising,” chimed the other. That might be so in the city. I certainly haven’t found new ways of socialising. I’m not a regular pub-goer but if we go to the cinema or a concert or to meet friends, it invariably included a pub visit. It takes effort to overcome the fear of socialising and what might happen as a result of it so instead we have tended to stay at home.

At the end of the day it is easier to stay at home and stay safe

Rural Ireland is suffering. We are more isolated than ever. At the end of the day it is easier to stay at home and stay safe. Yet, it is important for our sanity that we do organise ourselves and meet up. I feel a sense of urgency about doing it before the winter sets in. My friend Ann and I decided to meet up last week. Ordinarily we’d have met a couple of times since January and would be due to attend the Women & Agriculture Conference next month.

Oh dear, I despair. Maybe Bran didn’t take my wellie at all, maybe it’s gone into hiding to mourn this damned way of life, of isolation, of tedium, lack of outings and loneliness for its wellie friends. I empathise completely. I miss you and you and you...