Precious Wellbeing

17/03/2026

Lá Fhéile Pádraig sona duit

Happy St. Patrick's Day, everyone, from the beautiful Emerald Isle
Ireland.

I hope you get up to all types of shenanigans and your shamrocks are well and truly drowned

17/03/2026

What is it about Donegal?

It feels like therapy as soon as you drive into Donegal.
It is definitely not just a place. It truly is a feeling.

A feeling of fresh sea air upon your face
and a breezy wind for you to embrace

The gentle steps walked upon the beach
and a pint of Guinness at your reach

It is fresh fish and delicious food galore
With the craic and ceol through every door

It is the smell of the turf fires in the air
and the wind swept feeling in your hair

©Precious Wellbeing

17/03/2026

17/03/2026

“The Workman’s Friend”

When things go wrong and will not come right,
Though you do the best you can,
When life looks black as the hour of night –
A pint of plain is your only man.

When money’s tight and hard to get
And your horse has also ran,
When all you have is a heap of debt –
A pint of plain is your only man.

When health is bad and your heart feels strange,
And your face is pale and wan,
When doctors say you need a change,
A pint of plain is your only man.

When food is scarce and your larder bare
And no rashers grease your pan,
When hunger grows as your meals are rare –
A pint of plain is your only man.

In time of trouble and lousey strife,
You have still got a darlin’ plan
You still can turn to a brighter life –
A pint of plain is your only man.
Flann O’Brien (Brian O’Nolan

17/03/2026

I'm Glad There's You - Irish Friendship Blessing

I’m glad there’s you to smile at me
and brighten up my day,
to share my thoughts and understand
the things I do and say.

I’m glad there’s you to laugh
with me at ordinary things,
to show me what is special,
in everything life brings.

I’m glad there’s you to be with,
and I think it’s time you knew,
just how happy you have made me,
and how glad I am there’s you.

Artwork Hitching a Ride," by Martin Driscol

17/03/2026

Why is the smell of a turf fire so comforting?
"A real turf fire, the stuff of dreams for any Irish person far from home"
What is it about an Irish turf fire that immediately transports us back to the hills of Donegal? You just imagine yourself seated beside the fire stoking it gently and being captivated by it's dancing flames.
You feel immediately at peace and your breathing becomes shallow and calm.
The glow is mesmerising, filling our homes with a delighful and inviting light beckoning for us all to come inside.
If only it be for a few minutes. You enjoy it's warmth and nostalgia
It harkens us back to the good old days of our childhood, when many a household back then only had the embers of the turf and your little tilly light to navigate you safely around your home.
Cosy and warmth time spent around the fire with family and friends coming to soak up all its abundance of comfort and love
It burns so brightly and with it's glow we are immediately transported back to happier, simpler times.
Where tales and stories of old were shared between friends.
Many an author wrote a great book with the flames as their inspiration for their exciting finish.
Many a musician who produced his banjo, while another followed with his bodhran.
The tin whistle was added with the pleasing fiddle too
We all played Irish diddly dee music and Joe joined us all to dance.
We visualise the old, Irish bars filled with elderly gentlemen with peak caps drinking big pints of the black stuff.
Their face and hands all weather-beaten with hard work and worry.
Mary-Jane is seated in her rocking chair, with her shawl sprawled around her shoulders.
She is warming herself up as she delicately watches over her soda bread baking.
The smell of the apple pie and fruit soda farls are wafting through our tiny little cottage.
You can hear the wind battering our sash windows and bellowing through the strands of the thatching on the roof.
There has been many magical moments of creating wonderful woolly items with our crochet wool and kintting needles.
The hats, scarves and gloves were handmade and given as gifts
There is a peace and calmness which we feel after staring into it's beautiful light.
It's just one of life's little joys to smell the turf and wheaten bread in our dearest little irish home!
Precious Wellbeing

17/03/2026

Childhood Memories

The days of my youth, are now past and long gone.
But the memories of childhood, they still linger on.
And sometimes it seems, like it was yesterday.
When in truth it is really a lifetime away.
Our mother and father called Mary and Tom.
For many long years now,
They both have been gone.
But here in our hearts, they will always remain.
In the little thatched house,
At the end of the lane.
Our house it was simple,
As most were one time.
A roof of fine thatch,and walls white washed with lime.
Three small little windows,
And only one door.
In the kitchen inside,we
Had flags on the floor.
With the turf from the bog,
On a big open fire.
And the smell of home cooking, your heart would desire.
No microwave oven back then in the day.
For the cooking was done, in the old fashioned way.
And I can remember when night time would fall.
Our light it then came, from a lamp on the wall.
And that was before electricity came.
And our water we got from the well on the lane.
The food that we ate, ourselves had to grow.
Sure we were organic,
A long time ago.
The bread it was baked, the hens they would lay.
And the milk from the cow,
We could get twice a day.
Now thats a brief glimpse,
Of how things used to be.
No fridge or no freezer, no phone or t.v.
And the clothes that we wore, they were crisp and were clean.
And yes you have guessed it.
No washing machine.
Now that is my story,
I Tell to you all.
And sometimes in my memory, its back there I call.
A world so much different, from this one today.
As I said once before, its a lifetime away.
Martin O'Hara

17/03/2026

An Old Woman of the Roads,

O, to have a little house!
To own the hearth and stool and all!
The heaped up sods upon the fire,
The pile of turf against the wall!
To have a clock with weights and chains
And pendulum swinging up and down!
A dresser filled with shining delph,
Speckled and white and blue and brown!
I could be busy all the day
Clearing and sweeping hearth and floor,
And fixing on their shelf again
My white and blue and speckled store!
I could be quiet there at night
Beside the fire and by myself,
Sure of a bed and loth to leave
The ticking clock and the shining delph!
Och! but I'm weary of mist and dark,
And roads where there's never a house nor bush,
And tired I am of bog and road,
And the crying wind and the lonesome hush!
And I am praying to God on high,
And I am praying Him night and day,
For a little house - house of my own -
Out of the wind's and the rain's way
by Pádraic Colum.

17/03/2026

May the Irish hills caress you.
May her lakes and rivers bless you.
May the luck of the Irish enfold you.
May the blessings of Saint Patrick behold you.



Precious Wellbeing

17/03/2026