While money might not grow on trees, there are many townies who will tell you that there is no shortage of cash just waiting to be lifted from the land, and also made in the milking parlor.
To those who have never spent a rainy week working the fields, the agricultural industry often seems like a lucrative business to be in.
While this is certainly true for some, ask most older farmers and they will tell you a different story; earning a living from land and livestock usually leads to a hard, long and, often, lonely life.
Recently, I visited a 200-year-old farmhouse in Drumlegagh to meet the comparatively young man who lives inside.
Danny Timoney, now 86, spent his working days as a dairy farmer, toiling away in the fields and sheds, which he has since passed onto his son, Kevin and grandson, Kedar.
Sitting in a well-cushioned armchair in his living room, the rolling, rainy hills framed by the window behind him, a comfortably retired Danny looked back on his 60 years in farming and reflected on how Plough On has helped brighten the latter part of his life.
“Well, the first thing I like about Plough On is that it is free.
“When you have been reared to think that most good things cost money, it is nice to get something that works, without having to open your wallet,” laughed Danny, whose wit seems untouched by time.
Answering the question of whether farming is a labour of love, Danny was unsentimental.
“That certainly isn’t how I would describe it.
“Farming is not a job, it is a way of life, though it isn’t always the best one.
“But, if you are brought up with it, you don’t know any better. It is just the way you make your living.”
Danny now lives at home with his wife Oonagh, who has been a guide at the Ulster American Folk Park for the last 27 years.
“I will be honest with you, the greatest pleasure I get is hearing the whipping machine starting up in the morning and me still in bed, knowing I don’t have to go out to it.
”That is some change, I can tell you. I used to get up at 5am to milk cows before the tanker arrived at 7am.
“It wasn’t for me, but I did it. The son and grandson are different. They would work from morning to night and love it. They must get it from my wife,” laughed Danny.
Taking us back to the moment he went from helping out on the farm to actually committing his life to it, Danny recalled leaving St Columb’s College, Derry.
“I pulled the plug after only being there for a couple of years. It was a desperate place. There was not a day passed that you didn’t get the strap.
“Anyway, at the time I decided to leave, the government had a thing called the ‘small farmers scheme’ on the go, and that entitled you to £1,000, which was some money at the time.
“My father had two farms, one in Tullymuck and this one here. He signed one over to me, I got the grant, took on eight cattle, and that was the start of it. The next year I had 12, then 24, and it went on like that for years and years… Well, I tried sheep at a time too, but I spent most my time getting them back from my neighbours.”
Danny’s working days came to an end 16 years ago, when he was aged 70.
“I’ll tell you what happened, my grandson more or less sacked me,” laughed Danny.
“I fell twice out in the milking parlor – slipping on cow dung, of course – and banged my head.
“After the second time, I went out that night and the grandson told me to go back into the house.
“’Why?’, I asked him, and he turned around and told me, ‘You are getting to be a bit of a disaster out here’. And that was the last of it. I never went out again.”
With his retirement has come an abundance of free time. With his new fortune of this once so scarce resource, Danny has spent many days in Belfast and Dublin, digging through records that might reveal his roots.
“I now know nearly all my great great grandparents,” he said, happily.
But hobbies cannot provide a person with everything they need, and just as genealogy has given Danny a new interest, Plough On has provided him with a fresh group of friends.
“You don’t have to be completely alone to be lonely, if you understand what I mean. I have my wife and family here, but you need friends in your life as well.
“When I get down to the group and meet the boys, we have our own kind of craic, telling old yarns and the odd lie.
“There are some great characters and it is a delight to spend time with them.”
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