Mrs Donnegal
I like Mrs Donnegal. She has seen much in her time. Here is a little piece from book 11.
Mrs Donnegal had taken the charge of milking the cows twice a day to keep them in supportable health and was applied to for gathering the eggs laid by the brown hens each day, but the most important task Mrs Donnegal kept was making supper at the farmhouse. Since her husband had passed on, she had taken a great joy in finding employment about the house and found comfort in being able to walk outside for many hours of the day. She would often insist on helping her two eldest sons but they proclaimed that her greatest assistance to them was in finding them wives to bear her grandchildren. These were mere japes at best but Mrs Donnegal could not help but feel that her sons were desirous of settling down. They had women enough she knew, for any unmarried man of forty-three must have someone to keep him company at night, but she felt that perhaps their remarks had come from their gathering a sense of her lonesomeness. She could not deny that the vast and verdant fields of Tyferrim were isolating but there was comfort accorded in the sounds of the whipping winds roaring over the tall grass of the plains. She felt that due to her husband’s deteriorated condition she was happier now than she had been for the past twenty-six years. Her children had always given her much in the ways of motherly pride and adoration but there was a something wanting that she had felt every time she attend her ailing husband. She knew what it was, recognized it and attempted to squelch it without alerting her children to the tears she cried or to the secretive wishes she harboured, but though tried as she might to remind herself how impossible her desires were, she could not be rid of them. The nagging incredulity of the situation still overcame her sensibilities. Her mind told her that the man she loved more than any other creature in Tyferrim was gone but her heart was bewitched into believing otherwise. She could not explain this feeling nor did she wish to do so. She assumed it was a trick of the spirit increased by the inner ramblings of an intellect deprived of a husband’s affections these twenty-six years, and though she knew these notions could only afford her pain, it was a pain she would rather feel over emptiness. These were the musings of Mrs Donnegal as she prepared supper for her two eldest boys, as she was given the idea to make enough for three men instead of two.
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| Sheamas Donnegal and Boudicca |
Mrs Donnegal had taken the charge of milking the cows twice a day to keep them in supportable health and was applied to for gathering the eggs laid by the brown hens each day, but the most important task Mrs Donnegal kept was making supper at the farmhouse. Since her husband had passed on, she had taken a great joy in finding employment about the house and found comfort in being able to walk outside for many hours of the day. She would often insist on helping her two eldest sons but they proclaimed that her greatest assistance to them was in finding them wives to bear her grandchildren. These were mere japes at best but Mrs Donnegal could not help but feel that her sons were desirous of settling down. They had women enough she knew, for any unmarried man of forty-three must have someone to keep him company at night, but she felt that perhaps their remarks had come from their gathering a sense of her lonesomeness. She could not deny that the vast and verdant fields of Tyferrim were isolating but there was comfort accorded in the sounds of the whipping winds roaring over the tall grass of the plains. She felt that due to her husband’s deteriorated condition she was happier now than she had been for the past twenty-six years. Her children had always given her much in the ways of motherly pride and adoration but there was a something wanting that she had felt every time she attend her ailing husband. She knew what it was, recognized it and attempted to squelch it without alerting her children to the tears she cried or to the secretive wishes she harboured, but though tried as she might to remind herself how impossible her desires were, she could not be rid of them. The nagging incredulity of the situation still overcame her sensibilities. Her mind told her that the man she loved more than any other creature in Tyferrim was gone but her heart was bewitched into believing otherwise. She could not explain this feeling nor did she wish to do so. She assumed it was a trick of the spirit increased by the inner ramblings of an intellect deprived of a husband’s affections these twenty-six years, and though she knew these notions could only afford her pain, it was a pain she would rather feel over emptiness. These were the musings of Mrs Donnegal as she prepared supper for her two eldest boys, as she was given the idea to make enough for three men instead of two.
I really like Mrs Donnegal :) for the way she is (and that she always try to make you EAT hahahaha), for what she's been through, for how she never complained for all those years while taking care of her ill husband ( a good man though) who did not even knew who she was, while deep in her heart she longed to be with someone else she loved so much. She is and incredible woman and mother :)
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