The Story of Tinnock

Tinnock

Tinnock in the height of summer, adored with a Tipperary flag

In the early days of our relationship, when I was off work, Trev would drive me from Kilkenny to his village, Ballingarry. On one of those days, we drove past this overgrown farmhouse with a 'For Sale' sign hanging over the gate. There was a horse in front of the house, trees knocking against the roof, brambles as far as you could see, but I thought it was the most beautiful house I could imagine. I said "I would like to live there one day". Under two years later, we were married and stood in front of it holding the keys. Some things were meant to be. 

The heart of our home, an old reconditioned Rayburn called Big Bertha. 

We made so many mistakes, there was no money, but we had time and plenty of love and determination. There was sanding plaster at 3am, lifting Lino to find original flagstones, learning to tile, no heating or running water in the depths of winter, finding secret paths through the ditches, locking doors with brooms, figuring out how to get rid of the damp, night visits from a friendly fox, and countless other problems and delights that arose. We had help of course, my father in law was there at every step with us, and Trevs brothers all got a call at some stage to help with manning a digger, or cutting down a tree. It wasn’t an overnight renovation, in fact it is still going on, and I suspect it will go on for most of our life, little by little.

The day we got the keys and last summer.

Before and After - The kitchen

Before and After - The dining room

Before and After - The sitting room

It is one of those houses that everyone has a story about. Old Billy stopped by the gate every day and raised his walking stick in greeting while he stood looking over the place where he worked as a seasonal worker for many years. We have an open invitation to the old family that came before us, as far as we are concerned, it is as much theirs as it is ours. They have left their marks the same as we leave ours.

Mowing the grass in the orchard at the start of spring

It is a magical place. Teapots in trees, shoes up chinmeys, red squirrels flying through trees, deer tiptoeing though the paddock, milk bottles by the creek, hedges full of fruit and berries, a place where people tend to want to stay and chat. 

We are uncovering its story a little more every year and fall in love with it again.

All my love from Tinnock,
Kirsten x