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put the kettle on: happy mother’s day
One afternoon in the household appliances section of a store in Guadalajara, I paused by an impressive selection of irons before placing one in my grocery cart. Atonement, I suppose for that time in Phoenix when, in an act of mild rebellion, I donated my ironing board to Goodwill. If you’re from a certain time and place in Northern Ireland, you’ll understand this was no small act. I was raised by a mother who ironed everything, including handkerchiefs, socks, and dishcloths. My mother is far away in Castledawson, the village that made her, and it is Mother’s Day there. With all good intentions, I had marked the day on the…
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international women’s day: for my grandmother
There are still unguarded moments of dislocation that bring a crushing loneliness and a visceral longing for “home,” for brightly painted front doors and blue space; for a slow pace in a rainy place where strangers say hello to each other; where church bells peal and roosters crow; where there are unplanned sessions in pubs that stay open late if you sing another song for them; and, where there's always a bus to the city. I will know it when I find it. I will be home.
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Dispatch from the Diaspora, Feminism, Love, Meg Ryan, Milestones, Nora Ephron, Online dating, Relationships, Rob Reiner, Social Media, When Harry Met Sally, You've Got Mail
match point ~ seeking romance & mr. right
A match made in heaven? No. In spite of all the tactics and algorithms deployed to make sense of our checked boxes and declare us a 100% match or subsequently updating our relationship as 'official' on Facebook, we are making this match right here, right here where angels fear to tread, in the messiness of the middle of two lives that collided at the best and worst of times. There is no wrong time.
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And you can tell everybody, this is our song …
Over our first few years of singing together, it became our song, a staple in a repertoire of songs into which listeners will stitch their own meaning too.
