Such a hard life

I picked up a small recipe and farming life booklet while I was in Coleraine recently. The author was Sue Robb, who I believe write for a local newspaper, but I can’t as yet find out very much about her. She  shares a glimpse back into a very different world, the world of rural farms in Ireland in the early twentieth century, and maybe even back before that. Here is an excerpt from the little booklet, Recipes From an Old Farm Kitchen, entitled No Morning Tea:

When farmhands were in plentiful supply those who did not sleep in the loft over the kitchen had to be in the yard by 6a.m. That meant a long walk in the eerie morning light, and potholes were like a magnet to the steel toecap of a big nailed boot. Putties were unrolled every morning and bandaged from boot to knee cap. They were part of the farm workers uniform in the days of earthen floors, ash pits and brass knobbed kettles.

The fire in the hearth or the big black range had to be lit, then to wait patiently until it was well kindled before putting on the outsize pan filled with thick slices of home cured salty bacon, soda farls and yellow yoked eggs.

Milking buckets made of zinc and well scalded were collected from the milkroom and in winter the Hurricane lamp had to be lit to see in the dark dusky light.

not until every call had been fed, the byre cleaned, brushed and swilled out, the milk and cream separated, poured into the crock gathered with a pinch of saltpetre for the weekly churning and butter making, was breakfast served. This was eaten in silence and without interruption as music was kept for Sundays or celebrating the Churn.

Washing up water was hearted in a big pot then emptied into a round tin dish, for only scalding water could remove the salted grease. Monday morning was the busiest of all as Sunday Coats and Suits had to be brushed and put away for another week.

Life was real and very earnest in those days.

Life was real and very earnest… and very hard and very cold, and somehow it sounds lonely; I don’t know how many people would have been working on a farm, but there is no sense in this passage of laughing and joking to keep the spirits up, or singing and whistling as they worked in the dark. This seems to be a scene from before electricity had reached such farms so everything had to be done by hand, and work continued whatever the season, weather or temperature. I guess people these days could do it if they had to, but what a tough life it was. No wonder as soon as they were able, farming families built new homes with proper floors, hot and cold running water, electric lights, heating and modern appliances!