Róisín, Diarmuid, Clodagh and Aibhlin McCarthy are pretty much your typical Irish children. Weekend mornings are spent at hurling and camogie sessions, the younger ones like pasta with ketchup and a sneaky go on mum Deirdre’s smartphone, and the eldest, 11-year-old Róisín, loves shopping in Penneys. The only difference is that they live in paradise by way of west Cork.
Dad John McCarthy, one of 11 children, is the fourth generation of his family to farm at Ballymacredmond, on a far-flung patch of green that stops abruptly at the Celtic Sea. He takes pride in his small herd of 80 cows and there’s always plenty to do to get the rich milk sent off to the local dairy co-operative and on to be made into Kerrygold Butter.
Luckily, the children are around to lend a hand. “We go out in the evenings to help with milking,” says Róisín. “The cows gather at the gate so all you have to do is open the gate and climb under the wire. Morning milking is from half six to half eight. The tanker takes all our milk to the cooperative and makes it into butter.”
Diarmuid, 10, adds: “We scrape and wash the parlour then feed the calves. It’s dirty work, but Dad jokes that someone has to do it! And calving time is even busier.”
Róisín agrees: “Calving is manic. Dad’ll be up at one o’clock in the night trying to calve a cow.
“I love the calfhouse when there’s calves there; they sniff you and when you put your hand out they kind of back away, but if you leave your hand out, they’ll creep up and lick it.”
Like their mum and dad – and his dad before him and his dad before him – the kids know their animals (including dogs Doracha and Louie) very well. “Cows have huge long eyelashes to bat away the flies from their eyes,” says Róisín. “They can get grumpy, but when they are happy they keep to themselves and they’re calm. They eat silage in the winter, which smells lovely, like grass.”
Diarmuid says: “They love grass. We make sure that they get as much fresh grass and as much fresh air as possible … they go quite crazy, they jump up and down – they really love it.”
There’s time for fun, too. Diarmuid’s favourite bit of the farm is the view from the fields towards the old lookout tower, while Róisín likes climbing up a big straw bale in one of the sheds and watching the calves playing.
With butterflies, buttercups, daisies and dandelions everywhere and a variety of birds nesting in the whitewashed building across from the farmhouse (they can fly in easily since the window was broken during hurling practise), nature is right on the children’s doorstep. It’s difficult to see why they’d ever want to leave this beautiful, peaceful place.
“We have cousins in the city. When they come here, they go crazy tearing around everywhere, all around the trees, up and down the back,” says Róisín. “Mum just says it’s the space. Farming is hard work and it can be time-consuming, but I wouldn’t choose to live in the city. It’d be very loud. I like it quiet. I love the country. There’s always some nice places on a farm.”
A Kerrygold tale: pure and simple
The Kerrygold story is a simple one. “We work with small co-operative farms where small herds are free to graze on lush Irish meadows. It means Kerrygold cows are healthy and happy, free to roam outside. It’s these cows, and countless generations of dairy knowhow, that makes our butter taste so good. We always know where all of our milk comes from, which is why we promise to only produce the most delicious, golden dairy, pure and simple.”
