Chickens, eggs and the Kilrush Farmer’s Market

Having made it back to the Kilrush Farmer’s Market, I made a point to bring my camera along and was happy to find that the chickens I was so delighted to see there a couple of weeks ago were back! And, although I again controlled the urge to buy a hen, I came a bit closer this time and bought some fresh eggs from a boy who appeared to be about the same age as Eoin. As professional and businesslike as this young man was, he was still a boy, and I watched as he eagerly pushed forward a particular half-dozen carton, which he seemed to favor, trying to sell it to an elderly man who was ahead of me at the stand. I noticed that the carton contained an oddly shaped egg prominently perched at one end. However, the man didn’t acknowledge the boy’s hints and instead took the carton closest to him. When my turn came I couldn’t resist the boy’s enthusiasm for this particular half-dozen. He inched the carton toward me and though he didn’t guarantee it, he told me that the oddly shaped egg might contain a double-yolk! He said this with the bright-eyed enthusiasm of a child who is not yet bored with the subject of double-yolk fresh eggs, in spite of having to sell eggs at a farmer’s market stand – and probably help gather them in the morning.

Well, as I had promised Eoin earlier in the day, for dinner that evening I made him a bit of an Irish breakfast of eggs and black and white pudding. Of course we had to use the egg with the potential double-yolk and as I got ready to crack it open Eoin stood watching hopefully – and with the same enthusiasm that his peer exhibited when selling it to me. Unfortunately, all this anticipation was rewarded with only a single yolk.

Sometimes an oddly shaped egg is just an oddly shaped egg!

“Where did this come from?”

My Kilrush Farmer’s Market treasures.

Bipolar West Clare awoke in a manic state this morning – dry, mild and bright! At least it did here in the Kilkee region. After a couple of weeks living with its depressive state, which had me feeling a bit like a character in a John B. Keane tale, this change of mood was overdue and very welcome. Also, as far as I am aware the fine weather today was not predicted, so it came as a very pleasant surprise. In the words of a local business owner, “Where did this come from?!”

The Nevsail Hut at the beach.

This morning, while Eoin was occupied in the Atlantic at Nevsail Watersports Camp, I enjoyed the beginning of this dry, mild day with a trip to the nearby town of Kilrush. After a leisurely breakfast of coffee and a scone at my favorite Kilrush hangout, The Potter’s Hand Café, I followed up with a visit to the farmer’s market in the square. Much to my surprise, not only did this market have the usual stalls selling such things as fresh produce, gorgeous flowers, homemade jams and local cheeses, it also had a vendor selling live chickens! After making my purchases, no chickens included, I took my time walking back to the car enjoying the warmth of the sun and imagining myself, produce and beautiful bouquet in hand, strolling through a village in the south of France!

After collecting Eoin at the end of Nevsail (where a seagull ate his lunch – but that’s another story!) we headed over to Diamond Rocks where I took a walk along the cliffs as Eoin, carrying his net and bucket, enjoyed the mild breeze and sun while searching the Pollock Holes for sea creatures.

Eoin inspecting his treasures.

Unlike last night, the only thunder I heard today was the sound of white, foamy waves pounding against the sun-warmed rocks beneath the cliffs. The cliff walk was a dazzling sight with the bright sun shining down from a sky of blue, highlighting a show of wild grasses in every shade of green sprinkled with tiny wildflowers of purple, yellow and white. This vibrant scene practically took my breath away after so many rainy days of muted colors under grey skies. And standing atop the highest cliff looking across Intrinsic Bay, with the warmth of the sun allowing me to finally remove my sweater for the first time in many days, there was no reason to imagine I was anywhere other than the west of Ireland!

As I write this it is after ten o’clock in the evening. The sky is still clear, the air is still mild and I hear the peaceful sound of cattle lowing in a nearby field – perhaps asking each other, “Where did this come from?!”