Storm Ellen was forecast. My husband Tim and I walked around the garden, putting away anything that might blow over. We had our tea. There was a possibility of a power cut, so my daughter Julie made my grandson Ricky’s bottles. As the wind gathered momentum, it stripped some leaves from the Boston ivy on the house. The leaves tumbled around the lawn awkwardly; the stems still strong and unready to drop. Ellen saw to their premature demise in the last days of summer. The birch tree visible from the living room window was blowing wildly. It’s shiny, deep green leaves rustled, but the sound did not reach our ears as we were too far away.

A storm always has the potential to do damage

Ricky sat in my lap; mesmerised by the blowing trees and shrubs and the howling of the wind. To his little ears, Ellen must have sounded ferocious indeed. At eight months Ricky did not feel the anxiousness the rest of us felt. A storm always has the potential to do damage. Julie settled him for bed. We were in the middle of watching The Darkest Hour when we were plunged into darkness. We locked the doors and went to bed. The storm was even louder there.

The following morning, the garden looked ragged, with small branches broken and blown around

The rain beat forcefully against the window. I wondered if the glass could possibly blow in.

The following morning, the garden looked ragged, with small branches broken and blown around. The story was the same around the farm, with no major trees lost. Electricity and water outage were burdens that needed to be sorted. We got off lightly in comparison to other areas.

Insults

Before storm Ellen, we’d gotten a new setback from storm COVID-19. The moods in the house were already grim following the announcement of new COVID-19 restrictions. With rising cases, it was expected but still disappointing.

Last weekend, we had a lovely family meal. Now, it would be outside the guidelines. Julie, her husband David, and baby Ricky, Tim, my son Diarmuid and I make six. So we can’t invite our other two sons, Colm and Philip, and their fiancées to tea in our house again, unless we are outside.

It will be back to showering and changing my clothes before I interact with the rest of the family

The threat of COVID-19 entering our home has heightened again. Philip informed me that once school starts, he and Aileen will have to stop coming into the house as Aileen will once again be mixing with her students. We discussed it and I will be in the same boat. I was sad. It will be back to showering and changing my clothes before I interact with the rest of the family. This is what people on the frontline are doing on a daily basis. It’s time-consuming and annoying, but necessary.

So while the country was reeling from storm Ellen and storm COVID-19; storm Oireachtas Golf Society landed on us with 80 insults showering down on our continued efforts to keep our families, work colleagues and neighbours safe. Tim, Julie, Colm and I sat around the breakfast table.

I had a lump of disgust in the pit of my stomach

We were incredulous at the reports from the dinner at the Station House Hotel, in Clifden, where 80 people gathered –some shaking hands and not bothering to social distance. We discussed how we felt. I had a lump of disgust in the pit of my stomach. We felt angry and let down by people that we expect to be leaders.

Wise words from Andy Doyle

I believe people are fed up with restrictions and have endured lost loved ones, contact, careers and businesses. The idea that attendees cite assurances that the guidelines were being followed is nonsense. Where was the personal responsibility? You wear a mask when out; you wash or sanitise your hands. You do not shake hands! You look around. You see too many people not social distancing. You show leadership; you leave! People are making these responsible decisions daily.

We deserve respect. We deserve better leadership

We are a sophisticated, educated public who have responded to the call of duty to stay safe and keep others safe. We deserve respect. We deserve better leadership. We don’t need to be talking about this kind of selfish stupidity. We have too much on our own minds. So my advice to our rural community is to take stock of Andy Doyle’s piece in Irish Country Living two weeks ago, where he describes his experience with contracting COVID-19.

Take your leadership from his stark and honest words and keep washing your hands, social distancing and isolating where necessary.