Lighten Up: Kate Winslet's message to Irish farmers
Kate Winslet had another secret reason for her recent trip to Cork, reveals Irish Examiner satire writer Denis Lehane.
I suppose you heard the news that Kate Winslet was in Cork.
We failed to keep it a secret.
I warned her team three weeks ago: "The secret of Fatima will be easier to keep.
"Even the dogs on the street will know she's here if Ballymaloe is on the cards."
Ballymaloe, you see, is Ireland's worst-kept secret.
Anyhow, it became public news quickly, and there was nothing I could do about it.
Now the real reason Miss Winslet was in Cork had nothing at all to do with frivolities like cooking.
In the name of heaven, sure who would come here to spend all their time banging saucepans and twisting egg timers?
No. You'll know by now that, of course, she came here to meet myself and others in farming to discuss the chronic weather, for she had read about our woes on the front page of the Farm Exam and wanted to see if Hollywood could do something about it.
In fairness to the girl, she listened intently to me as I spilled the beans on the situation. I left no stone unturned.
I showed her my muddy wellingtons. I pulled out my torn oilskins and tossed my soaking-wet donkey jacket at her feet.
"Will you show me the poaching?" she then asked. "For I have heard it is fearful."
"I'll do one better," I vowed, and so I took her to the cattle mart, where farmers weren't long surrounding us and telling her exactly what was on their minds.
"Miss Winslet," says I, as farmers appeared from all corners, "The situation is diabolical. 'Tis like Titanic only without the lifeboats and the special effects.
"'Tis sink or swim," I roared.
She shed a tear for us, and I begged her to stop, for couldn't she see there was enough water about already?
Kate then said she would tell DeCaprio all about it as soon as she got home, for he's no stranger to the water either.
DeCaprio knows only too well what it's like to be up to your armpits in water.
Kate had a very simple message for the farmers of Ireland. She asked us all to "Keep dry."
I thanked her for her kind words and for her listening ear.
Kate Winslet then went on to tell me that she knows all about the problems in Irish farming because she gets the Irish Examiner every Thursday - specifically for the farming supplement.
"It's very popular down in Hollywood Boulevard," she bragged, obviously trying hard to impress me.
But that didn't surprise me in the least.
"Are you a married man Mr Lehane?" the screen siren then asked, clearly smitten with my rugged good looks and earthy charms.
"Alas, I am," says I, "And have been with almost thirty years."
"Well, your wife must be the luckiest woman in the world," the Oscar winner then proclaimed.
I agreed with her, of course, for there would be little point in denying it.
"She counts her lucky stars every night before getting into bed with this fine lump of a man," I roared while beating my chest.
Kate was all agog.
"Well, if you ever separate," she cooed. "Make sure you give me a call."
"Oh, I will for sure," I chuckled, stomping my muddy boots in a puddle, before warning her that a divorced farmer will probably only come with half a farm.
"Better half a farm than no farm at all," the savvy star of the silver screen then quipped, before slipping into her limousine and speeding off back to Hollywood, no doubt to tell them all about the rain and her time in Cork.
