I’m sitting here in our stone lodge with a peat fire smoldering in the stove. The persistent acrid smell of burning peat has become familiar. I’m hopeful that our landlord will allow me to accompany him to the bog to cut some peat and set it out to dry. It’s a fascinating process to know that you are burning hardened soil of a sort. Jean reminds me that it is simply very young coal. I’ve included some pictures of our house, the view of the lough from our front door, and the grounds. We have a friendly sheepdog, Teddy, who greets us whenever we are outside. He is 16 years old and doesn’t move around much, but is very friendly.

Internet remains dicey. If I stand by the back door I can maintain a connection. That mean short posts.

We haven’t gone out to explore the sights or visit Jean’s ancestral home in Donegal. It’s been a couple of days of sketching, painting, reading, and watching Gaelic football on the TV. Tomorrow we will venture further afield.

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