Harry's Gate

No, not Harry's Game; read on.  In March 1996, after six years a-lookin' we bought an old farm-house (with 7 hectares and some outbuildings) halfway up a hill in the Irish Midlands. It required A Lot of work: the 1941 vintage house had no plumbing (inside or out); the electric was rudimentary; half the front-door was missing; and there was a long-ignored hole in the roof. The Beloved was the contractor - sourcing well-borers, plumbers, sparkies, central heating ppl able for underfloor heating, tilers, builders, carpenters . . . who all came in series or parallel as required. It took a year of unremitting effort, by-passing obstacles great and small; incl. driving the lads to keep working till 6pm rather than gawping at Comet Hale-Bopp. Don't imagine I did much on site - I was usually in town

We threw a party for everyone and their families on the Sunday of St. Patrick's weekend 1997 and woke up in our own new beds, in our own new bedrooms, in our own new home. We had exhausted all our treasure and stamina and had still only made the farm-house habitable. But it was enough core infrastructure to start raising two small girls, a few sheep and some chickens; and living the good life. It took ten (10) years to get our mojo back for building.  In 2007 a couple of craftsman builders Harry and James coursed over our horizon and were tasked to put a slated roof on the most solid of the derelict sheds. They were only in roofing for the money: James was an architectural heritage bloke: all lime-mortar and details; while Harry was an artist in metalwork who would have stopped in his forge if there was any market for his craft. They were a bit on the blow-in side, like ourselves, and I remember a few hilarious lunches when they came up to the kitchen for soup and cold-cuts.

When the slating was done, we had pity on young Harry and commissioned him to make two steel arty "pedestrian" gates to keep dogs and sheep out of the garden while allowing easy human access [it's all in the hanging and the hinges]. I had recently returned from Santiago and the design referenced the concha de peregrino. A very few of the hikers up our lane have caught the reference and talked about their own camino. Here is Harry's top gate between the two granite pillars that I made a bit more vertical to frame (and hang) the steel.

Now, I ask you: does it look like a gate? Despite the the sunburst / scallop design, it still looks like a gate, yes? rather than a bedstead . . . or a toilet?? 

but one walker last week was bamboozled enough, by a trick of the light or an optical illusion, to squat in the lee of the gatepost for a piddle. Fine, fair enough, but also thought it was fine fair enough to leave her tinkle tissue for me to pick up and contribute to our compost heap. They say that Chinese peasant farmers with holdings abutting the road would install a closet with a bucket in the hope of securing some humanure as free fertilizer. But we're not in Kansas China anymore! It's not the first time I've had to clean up after the entitled.