Wednesday, 3 June 2015

You Know You're Home When.. | Irish Edition | #IRISHBLOGCOLLAB

Well lads and lassies, as the man says - it's the last round up of this series. Week 9 of the stint has come upon us. I have really enjoyed being a part of this group with other fellow (and fabulous) Irish bloggers. It started off as a small idea about 3 months ago and as a group I reckon we have gelled together quite well. It's been great fun!

The last week's topic is an interesting one. Whether you're coming up from Australia after a year on the trot, a weekend away or even a hospital trip - that's when the cookie crumbles and you find out what makes your home your little abode. As much as I can be on the gander in Dublin or Galway from time to time, and as much as I like to embrace my inner city bug, I'm a home bird at heart and I really relish my familiar comforts. Home is where the heart is they say? Home (to me) is where there's all of the things listed below come into play.

If I was ever able to cook as well as my mother, I would be content with life forever more. She is hands-down one of the finest cooks going, and is always willing to dish up a plate for any random poor aul' soul that wanders into our kitchen. The food from home just doesn't compare with any other respectable outlet. 

And her home-made scones and brown bread? Out of this world.

You would think that tea should come under "Home-Cooked Food". If you are trying to insult my intelligence, you would know tea is a fundamental and integral part of Irish life, It's a welcoming, a peacemaker and conversation flower. It's the "Welcome home from your travels", the "I'm sorry I left the immersion on over the weekend" and it's the "You were looking fairly shook on it yesterday at mass, are ya alright?"

Why is tea so far more superior than anywhere else? You have your own teabags, your preference of milk (I'm a bit fussy on that one, I'll admit) and the sugar is never hidden on you. 

It breaks my heart when people decide to put the sugar on the top shelf. Don't be one of those households, bare a thought for your under 5 footer folk.

The 6 words that every Irish woman wants to hear:

What beats a good, warm open fire?


Do I need to say any more on this one?

"Well I HEARD ye were galavanting lately, tell me ALL about it now."

If you want to escape a mob of questions and "hellohowareyedoin's" then your local supermarket is not the place to be. On the flip side, it's lovely to go in and be fairly sure you will say hello to at least 10 different people. A litany of hard-hitting subjects gets discussed on the shop floor, you would be surprised!

There aren't many beds, I am sure, that can compare to your own. You know what side of it is the most comfortable (or if you're like me and you plonk right in the middle), you know what time the sun peeks through at which angle and how to block out all civilisation while it's doing so. You might have your electric blanket, particular pillow or traps and gadgets on your locker. It's a given, there are certain things like this that help you sleep better and there's no point in being proud and denying it!

That's it, sin é! I hoped you enjoyed this one, and a big thank you to the other bloggers that have stuck with this series for the past 9 weeks.



  1. Such a fun post! it was so funny to read. I have always wanted to visit Ireland xox

  2. One of my Grandmothers was Irish. This gave me some reminders of her.

    1. Oh really? I'm glad you enjoyed it, thanks for reading!