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Aging, Blogging, Breast Cancer Awareness Month, Depression, Health Statistics, Memoir, Mental Health, World Health Organization, World Mental Health Day 2013, Writing
the woman in the yellow wallpaper & me . . .
“Mental illness affects all of us, but there are still many myths and misconceptions about these disorders. If people are willing to talk openly about mental health, we can defeat stigma and discrimination against people with mental illnesses. ” ~ Former First Lady Rosalynn Carter, October 10, 2013 marks the twenty first anniversary of World Mental Health Day, established by The World Federation for Mental Health (WFMH). The theme this year is “mental health and older adults.” Last year, depression was at the forefront, with the World Health Organization (WHO) estimating that 350 million people worldwide are affected by the illness. In spite of this number, and the fact that depression can and…
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Anahorish, Antrim, Arizona, Artisans, Being young, Belfast, Language matters, McClelland Irish Library, Memoir, Northern Ireland, Northern Ireland Culture, Ordinary Things, Phoenix, Phoenix Landmarks, Soundtracks of our Lives, Ted Hughes, The Diviner, The Forge, Writing
a cool whiskey for seamus heaney & me
No better way to end a night celebrating the poetry of Seamus Heaney than with a Powers whiskey and a bit of craic. The only thing missing was a turf fire, but this is Phoenix, Arizona, the weather still warm on the first Friday of October. No need yet for a hot whiskey, not the way my father makes it as a cure for the cold or whatever ails you, methodically warming the glass before adding two spoonfuls of sugar and a decent ‘nip’ of Powers. So the glass won’t crack, he’s always careful to place a metal spoon in it before pouring in the boiling water. The final touch, a slice…
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Anahorish, California, Castledawson, grandmother, Memoir, Memoir, Mother Daughter Relationship, Ordinary Things, Poetry, Seamus Heaney, Seamus Heaney, Themes of Childhood
doing a dance for seamus heaney
Ironing shirts, folding sheets, the mundane tasks that Seamus Heaney transformed into magical spots of time that make me think of my mother back in Castledawson, County Derry a great armful of sheets rescued from the clothes-line before the rain begins to fall. Then, the folding, a precise ritual, my father her partner in a dance handed down from one generation to the next. And I’ll hear Seamus Heaney remembering his own mother. My daughter learned those same moves not by the ironing board in my mother’s kitchen, but before the fog rolled in on the end of a windy afternoon on the sandy edges of California. Folding a blue beach…
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Antrim Guardian, Beautiful Girls, Breaking Bad, Dallas, Enough Said, Facebook, James Gandolfini, Memoir, Movies, Rich Man Poor Man, Soundtracks of our Lives, television, The Sopranos, Themes of Childhood, Twitter
from falconetti to gus fring & the distance in between . . .
The last time I was in the grip of a television series was in the 1970s and Abba’s Fernando was the most popular tune on my transistor radio. It was long before Netflix, box-sets of DVDs, iTunes, Amazon, and illegal downloads changed the way we watch TV. It was before Dallas and bookies taking bets on “Who shot JR?”; before “The Thorn Birds” with wily Father Ralph de Bricassart breaking his vow of celibacy, fathering a child with the lovely Meggie, and still ending up as a Cardinal in the Vatican; and, it was before we watched ‘Roots,’ horrified, as Kunta Kinte was sold into slavery in America and whipped within an inch…
