A self-sufficient life for Susanna

SUSANNA Anker is unwilling to develop an emotional link with her hens. Definitely not the ones that end their days on a plate in her family home in Cahermurphy, Kilmihil. Susanna’s self-sufficiency doesn’t stop at rearing and then plucking her fowl, though. She turns and foots her own turf, keeps bees, grows vegetables, spins the wool from her sheep and keeps the odd pig, who goes down the same route as the hens.
Years ago, rearing, killing and plucking hens, geese and ducks was all the rage in West Clare. Not so much now, although that’s something that Susanna is definitely redressing.
“You just have to be in that frame of mind,” she says, reflecting on what happens when the hens’ heads roll.
“If you know that you’re going to eat them, they’re not going to be pets. I don’t give them a name. Otherwise you wouldn’t have the heart to kill them. When their time is up, you have to be able to do it yourself, whether you like it or not,” Susanna smiles.
While she kills the hens herself, she gets some help in terminating the pigs’ stint in the field at the back of her rustic cottage.
“If you rear a pig, you’ll be feeding it twice a day for half a year and cleaning the pigs every day. You have to be really committed to them and look after them. At the end it’s like a reward. The killing is just part of it that has to be done. I wouldn’t be able to kill a pig but you have to be there to catch the blood and make the black pudding,” Susanna notes.
All of this is a few steps removed from her childhood in a brandy distillery, operated by her parents, in Northern Switzerland. Nor does Susanna’s life with her three daughters have much in common with her brief banking career in her native country.
“I thought that it would be great, a good career. But I got depressed. I didn’t even know what was wrong with me. I just love working with my hands,” she reflects.
When she’s not speculatively eyeing her rotund fowl or animals, Susanna earns a living as a textile craft teacher, while she also makes her own clothes.
“I teach textile craft in schools, mainly primary schools, where children learn how to sew and then make felt, which is made from sheep’s wool. They can learn to make their own fabric, sew something or how to weave.
“Then I go to other groups, like women’s groups, who want to learn something new or relearn something that they probably did one time but can’t remember,” she explains.
Under the umbrella Clare County Council’s Artist in the School Scheme, Susanna has imparted the secrets of her craft at several primary schools in West Clare and Ennis.
“What I noticed is that a lot of children have lost a lot of skills that would have been normal years ago. Some couldn’t even tie a knot or can’t tie their own shoelaces any more,” Susanna observes.
“Also, they learn that they have to be patient. They didn’t realise how much work was involved, that the result wasn’t instant and that they have to keep at something and see it through. It’s a nice process and they get something at the end as well,” she says, adding that in some instances pupils had created their own slippers and pencil cases.
Susanna also hosts workshops for ICA groups and teaches sewing at several locations throughout the county.
“I grew up doing textile craft in school. My grandmother taught me how to knit socks. I made my own clothes from a young age. Then I continued on. When I went to college, I did a dressmaking course. It was a bit more complicated but the principles were the same.”
Susanna finds that older people appreciate her skills, which were more prevalent in their day.
“They are really amazed and are delighted to see it. I often do a craft demonstration at open days at Seed Savers and people love to see the old crafts. Especially the elderly people because they remember it. They’d say ‘my mother had one of those and I’m delighted to see it again’.”
Susanna has lived in Clare since 1992 and in Kilmihil since 1997. Her sister lived in Kilmaley for 16 years before relocating to Germany.
“I used to travel a lot and I loved going to Ireland. I liked the space and the countryside and also the lifestyle you can have. Even now, if I said to someone that I live almost four miles away from the shop in Switzerland, they can’t comprehend the distance. They’d be freaked out. Whereas here, you are used to it and would be prepared to travel,” she said.
Susanna owns a couple of fields at the back of her house, from which you can see acres of forestry.
“I keep my own sheep so I can spin my own wool. You can dye your own wool with plants and tree barks, like people used to do in the old days. That’s what attracts me. I like the old ways and I was lucky to meet people that had a lot of skills, although they’re kind of forgotten now. There were basket makers around and people working with leather, although they’re not around any more but I met them when I first came here,” she recalls.
Susanna stresses that people don’t need much land to achieve self-sufficiency. A small plot is plenty.
“It’s totally possible and you don’t need to have acres of land. What you need is interest and you have to be enthusiastic about living where you are. You can’t just give it up for a bit and say ‘I’ll catch up with it later on’. You have to keep it up. Last year, for example, I didn’t have a good season with the bees but you have to be always looking after them.”
Susanna took up bee keeping about eight years ago.
“Banner Bee Keepers give courses and I got a tutor. A really kind man came out and he showed me several times during one season. He found me a colony of bees. He was really committed and showed me how to keep bees. I don’t make honey on a grand scale. If I have a bit left, I give it to the neighbours.”
A regular at local craft fairs, Susanna has noticed that not everyone selling wares is a craftsman or woman.
“I could be part of a craft fair and genuinely do everything by hand and start with a raw item that I turn into a craft. I think that’s being mixed up, in that some people don’t understand what crafts is really about. Some crafts require a skill that you need years to be able to get good at it. Sometimes I have to take a stand and say we can’t call everything a craft,” she reasons.
Life in Cahermurphy is often dictated by the climate, which has become increasingly unpredictable.
“You have to make the most out of it because the weather isn’t always great. A lot of it is to do with the seasons. Sometimes it doesn’t always work out but you can’t just throw the towel in,” Susanna laughs, as the clouds hover, threatening to unload over the placid Kilmihil townland.