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Breast Cancer Treatment, Cancer Language, Depression, Language matters, Memoir, Mental Health, Northern Ireland, Ordinary Things, World Mental Health Day 2013
where is it likely to go better?
Photo: Barry’s, Portrush by Six Mile Images roll·er coast·er noun ˈrō-lər-ˌkō-stər, ˈrō-lē-ˌkō- Definition of ROLLER COASTER 1. A steep, sharply curving elevated railway with small open passenger cars that is operated at high speeds as a ride, especially in an amusement park. 2. An action, event, or experience marked by abrupt, extreme change in circumstance, quality, or behavior. You. Have. Cancer. A cliché comes…
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Archbishop Desmond Tutu, Governor Jan Brewer, Immigration, Memoir, Politics, Racial Profiing, SB1070, Seamus Heaney, Sectarianism
America – a no-go area.
In his first ten days in office, the President of the United States has shown us that the lessons of history do not apply to him. Swiftly and proudly, he has signed a string of Executive Orders, the most recent barring citizens of Iran, Iraq, Libya, Somalia, Sudan, Syria and Yemen from entering America for at least 90 days. He’s not done…
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In Every Thing Give Thanks . . .
Several years ago, my friend and I enrolled in a college photography class. This was not something to check off a bucket list, just a little thing I had been meaning to do for about thirty years. I had never made the time for it until a cancer diagnosis shifted my priorities. Until then, I had been oh so busy being busy, bemoaning…
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A Sense of Wonder, Aging, Barmbrack, Belfast, Best friends, Dispatch from the Diaspora, Good Vibrations, Hyndford Street, In the Days Before Rock n' Roll, Irish culture, Little Feat, Madame George, Memoir, Milestones, Music, Norn Iron Soul Food, Northern Ireland, Paris Buns, pop culture, Pop Music, Pop-in Records, Record Shops, Rites of passage, Rituals, Seamus Heaney, Snowball, Soundtracks of our Lives, Terri Hooley, Themes of childhood, Van Morrison, Vinyl Records, WagonWheel, When the Healing Has Begun
Caught up One More Time . . . on Cyprus Avenue
From Cyprus Avenue on Van Morrison's 70th birthday - when the familiar refrain streamed across a continent into my kitchen in the desert, and the appreciative whistles from the Belfast crowd, my whole world stopped for a second. Back street jelly roll . . .
