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Arizona, Awesome Women, Family, Health Activist Writer's Challenge 2013, Memoir, Memory, Ordinary Things, Poetry, Soundtracks of our Lives, Van Morrison, Wendy Cope, Writing
behind the rituals
This is an updated version of a piece of writing I started over a year ago. Today seemed as good a day as any to be thankful for all the routines and rituals that keep the little trio that is my family on solid ground. Day 22 of this month-long writing challenge asks that we write about something ordinary that inspires or…
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9/11, Belfast, Boston Marathon 2013, Damian Gorman, Facebook, Health Activist Writer's Challenge 2013, Memoir, Northern Ireland, Poetry, Seamus Heaney, Seamus Heaney, Seamus Heaney, Soundtracks of our Lives, television, The Troubles, The Troubles
boston . . . without warning
Until September 11th, I had taken for granted the sense of security I felt as a woman who had traded in Northern Ireland for America. Foolishly, I had too quickly dropped my guard, almost forgetting anything can happen. I grew complacent and smug, confident that – unlike her mother – my American daughter would never have to look twice at an…
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Fiftieth Birthday, Hair, Health Activist Writer's Challenge 2013, Memoir, Memoir, Memory, Northern Ireland Culture, Poetry, Seamus Heaney, Seamus Heaney, Soundtracks of our Lives, Themes of childhood, Themes of Childhood, Writing
’emotion recollected in tranquility’ . . . sort of
I find writing neither quick nor easy. So elusive are the ideas and then the words to attach to them, I may as well be divining for water. Although I signed up for this 30 day Writer’s Challenge voluntarily, it feels a bit like cruel and unusual punishment some days. Like today. It is Day 13 of the Health Activist Writers…
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Blogging, Educating Rita, Field of Dreams, Goodfellas, grandmother, Memoir, Memoir, Northern Ireland, Soundtracks of our Lives, The Deer Hunter, The Natural, The Troubles, Themes of Childhood, Versatile Blogger Awards, Writing
Versatile? Moi?
Last July, I got lost on the Internet. As you do. On the way back Home, I bumped into Lesley Richardson, a self-proclaimed unpublished writer. Before long, I discovered that, like me, Lesley has badly behaved hair that she has learned to embrace, a husband, a beautiful teenage daughter, and a cat. She has just turned fifty, as will I…
