Alice Taylor remembers her childhood home – the farm with all its tools and animals, the home with its equipment for living, its daily challenges, constant hard work, and its comforts too.She describes the huge open fireplace where all the cooking was done, where the big black kettle hung permanently from the crane over the flames; here the family sat in the evenings, talking, knitting, going over the events of the day, saying the rosary. She experienced the sow being brought indoors to have her precious brood of bonhams. She recalls the faithful, beloved horses and their wonderfully varied outfits – one set of tackle for each job they did on the farm; the ritual of lighting the oil lamps – from the fancy one in the parlour to the tiny one under the Sacred Heart picture; the excitement of threshing day and the satisfaction of a good harvest – the stations, the neighbours, and later the local dancehall and cinema.All the jobs and tools of a way of life long gone live on in the hearts of those who were formed by it. Here Alice Taylor celebrates them all with love.'magical … reading the book, I felt a faint ache in my heart … I find myself longing for those days … it is essential reading.' Irish Independent