My country memories: Marian Keyes

'You knew you'd arrived at my granny and granddad's when their sheep dog Panda came running out to meet the car. They lived in a tiny cottage on a smallholding in a place called Ballyea in County Clare, south-west Ireland. I don't think anyone can understand how remote it was - when I've been back to visit it's actually very hard to find the roads. It's like part of a parallel universe.

'They had about two acres of land with a few cows and sold the milk to the creamery, and they also owned some of the bog where they had rights to harvest the peat. They had no electricity, or running water and the land around them was very barren. It was a tough life, no doubt about that, but they were always so happy and cheerful, and despite being a city girl who was squeamish about the smell of cows, I absolutely loved it there. It was a beautiful place in a very bleak way, with a sort of bare, windswept and rocky beauty.

'Despite the remoteness, there was also a real sense of community. Most people were smallholders, and in the summer everybody would work my granddad's fields for a couple of days to bring in the hay. I can remember taking tea and sandwiches down to them. There is such a small window of time in which you can harvest, so they had to work from sun up to sun down without time to stop for food.

'When you're a farmer you are on duty seven days a week, and the rest of the year my granddad had no help at all. He had his routine of getting up very, very early to milk the cows and start his day's work. My granny did all the cooking, looked after the hens and kept the house clean, which must have been hard when every drop of water had to be pulled from the well.

'Inside, the cottage had simple black flagstone floors and whitewashed walls. The chairs were handmade by my grandfather with mismatched wood and twine, and they cooked everything in a big black pot held over the fire with iron sticks. There was a large dresser filled with all this beautiful and delicate willow-patterned Delft, on which we would eat our dinner of bacon, cabbage and potatoes. They also had lots of books - they were both so hungry for education. My grandfather was very clever and a voracious reader, and my grandmother had a great love of life and was the most fantastic anecdote-teller. I'm sure this is where I get my love of stories from.

'Because they lived such an isolated existence they were delighted to see anyone that passed. Everyone from the postman to the man from the creamery would be brought in and given tea and bread - they were all bringers of news. I often remember falling asleep to the sound of them chatting with the neighbours around the fire. The house had just three rooms, so I don't know how we fitted in, but at the time it never seemed a challenge. We would sleep top to toe, and above my bed was a picture of an angel watching over children, which made me feel very safe.

'In the mornings we had Marietta biscuits for breakfast and I thought that was what everybody got in Clare. They were very plain, but had little holes in them, so we would sandwich two together with butter and it would squeeze out through the holes. In the day time there were all kinds of bold and naughty things for us to get up to that we couldn't do at home, like climbing the ladder to the top of the haystack, which used to make my dad so mad.

'I went back to see the place about ten years ago with my husband and felt a sense of wonder that they managed to live a very challenging life with such cheerfulness. After my granddad died, granny couldn't run it anymore and she went into a home. The place passed to my mother's brother and it was just let go. Eventually everything was taken - even the black flagstones were stolen from the floor. It was very sad. I wish it hadn't fallen into disrepair and that we still had a connection and could return there every summer. When I went inside, the roof was pretty much gone, but on the floor I found the picture of the angel that hung over my bed. The glass had fallen out, but the image was intact. I brought it home and my mother has had it reframed and it now hangs in her house in Dublin. Of all the beautiful things to find, I was delighted it was that - I've made my mother promise I'm next in line.'

Marian Keyes lives in Dublin with her husband Tony. She has written 12 novels. Her latest, The Brightest Star in the Sky (Michael Joseph, hardback £18.99) is available now.

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