AT STROKESTOWN HOUSE After driving in the dark through an arch of tall trees, we parked in the half moon space shaped by this big house, and smelled the mulled wine as it wafted out the door. On either side of the hallway, in two large rooms, people admired the red fires glowing in the old grates, the walls lined with pieces of Delft, candlesticks, ornaments, paintings. Then I remembered why these artefacts were here, how tenants were punished if they did not pay their rent. A shipload drowned at sea, after fleeing from the famine years. In the library, I listened to thirty two voices from Longford and Mullingar, singing carols and bringing the Christmas story to life. Later, in the kitchen we drank steaming wine and mince pies. Leaving the large rooms behind, in the winding corridor I noticed how the stones were placed to make such grand designs. How men must have slaved to create all this. -- Mary Guckian, born 1942 in Kiltoghert, Co. Leitrim. Her books include "Perfume of the Soil" and "The Road to Gowel," Swan Press, Dublin. Mary enjoys photography and produced a series of postcards during the 1980s that sold around Ireland, and her work has been exhibited.