IGREW up on an old-fashioned working farm about five miles from Dublin, in a hinterland called Dundrum. It was owned by the Overend sisters, who lived like it was the Victorian era - with a cook, maid and bell board in the kitchen. When my old man finished a day on the farm, he'd get his gladrags on to serve them dinner.
The strongest memory I have of my early life there is of walking between the handles of a plough, my old man holding the handles behind me, and a massive bruiser of a horse in front - a big bay mare. I
