Heron & Moss

22/10/2026

If you ever spent an evening at Nick’s in Killorglin, you’ll remember the red doors, the food and how difficult it could be to leave once the singing started.

I remember all of that—and one Valentine’s evening when I left things rather late.

**The Most Romantic Table in the House**
Read the full story on Heron & Moss. Link in bio. https://heronandmoss.ie/2026/10/22/the-most-romantic-table-in-the-house/

*Image: an AI-assisted artist’s impression inspired by my memories of Nick’s.*

15/10/2026

I thought choosing the menu was the cook’s job.

Leonard had other ideas.

**Never Serve Stroganoff to a Caretaker**

Read the story on Heron & Moss—and find a recipe worth keeping for an autumn Sunday.

**Link in bio.**

02/10/2026

24/09/2026

“Anseo.”

For generations, it was one of the first words heard in Irish classrooms each morning.

The roll book opened. A name was called. A child answered.

Those books were never intended to become anything more than school records. Yet in schools across Ireland, many of them are still there — filled with names written decades ago in the careful hands of teachers who are long gone.

And if you knew where to look, your own name might still be among them.

**Anseo** — a new story on Heron & Moss.

Read the full piece at **heronandmoss.ie**
**Link in bio.**

23/09/2026

One morning, your name was called in a primary-school classroom for the last time.

You answered, “Anseo.”

You went home that afternoon. The roll book stayed.

Send this to the person who sat beside you.

08/09/2026

They built three houses. But this is the one Helen wishes she could keep them all in a little longer.

From the outside, Hatfield House looks beautifully resolved. But that isn’t really the story of this house.

It is a story of what Helen and Gary learned from the two homes that came before it. Of rooms designed around seven children. Of disagreements over concrete and greenery, schoolbags in the boot room, homework on the kitchen island, film nights beneath the hawthorn — and three white sofas that somehow survived all three houses.

I had expected to write about a beautiful home. Somewhere along the way, it became a story about something else: the brief period in family life when the house is full, everyone is still coming through the door, and you know it won’t always be this way.

Helen put it better than I ever could:

“If I had a pause button, I’d press it now.”

My thanks to Helen and Gary for opening the door to Hatfield House and trusting me with their story.

The Third House is now on Heron & Moss.

If stories about homes, people, memory and the ordinary things that end up meaning the most are your kind of thing, follow heronandmoss. There are many more to come.

Full story at heronandmoss.ie — link in bio.

Hatfield House SelfBuildIreland KerryHomes Kerry HomeAndFamily HeronAndMoss

03/09/2026

Someone told me once that every ciotóg began as a twin.

I have absolutely no idea who.

I hadn't thought about it for years. It was just one of those strange little things you hear, half believe, half dismiss, and somehow remember.

A piseog.

But recently I came across something that brought that old story back to me — and made it considerably harder to forget.

It also left me wondering about the stories we inherit without knowing where they came from, and the Irish words we somehow know without remembering ever learning them.

Piseog. Ciotóg.

And somewhere behind both of them, that wonderfully unreliable old authority:

They say…

A Piseog About a Ciotóg
Full story on https://heronandmoss.ie/stories/

31/08/2026

A stone went into the pot first.

After that came an onion ring, three restaurant kitchens, a classroom full of children and one piece of advice I certainly never needed to hear twice.

Somehow, it all became soup.

The Soup That Was Already There is now on Heron & Moss—along with the recipe it eventually produced.

Memories from the late Nick’s Restaurant, The Glenbeigh Hotel and Jacks Coastguard Restaurant | Seafood Restaurant | Wedding Venue.

No Brussels sprouts were involved.

Read the full story through the link in my bio.

30/08/2026

I had never been inside a gym until I was fifty-three.

I expected everyone to know what they were doing while I tried to work out whether the equipment in front of me was for sitting on, lifting or keeping well away from.

What I found was a small room filled with energy, encouragement and laughter. I became stronger than I had thought possible, learned that a little praise could persuade me to lift almost anything and discovered that a chin-up bar could be regarded as largely decorative.

It took being away from the gym to notice how much those Tuesday and Thursday evenings had come to hold: familiar faces, companionship and the comfort of being known without having to explain yourself.

With thanks to Chris O Sullivan for allowing me to tell the story—and for bringing so much energy to the room.

The Room I Nearly Didn’t Enter is now on Heron & Moss.

Read the full story through the link in my bio or at heronandmoss.ie. https://heronandmoss.ie/2026/08/30/the-room-i-nearly-didnt-enter/