I used to sing in the car to myself, to my babies, to the sky. In our “before Ireland” days, I’d wake up with the sun to drive my husband to work. Then I’d sit in the parking lot on sweaty afternoons waiting for him to clock out with a hungry, fussy baby passing minutes in the backseat.Read More
So you're probably wondering what happened to my great big one word of 2015. Well, you'll have to pop over to Velvet Ashes to read all about it, but here's the bottom line:
We can fit any word we want into the story of our life. This year could’ve been the year of Grief, the year of Rejection, the year of Income Shortfall, the year of Eczema. And any word we choose can dissipate with the first thaw of Spring. I regret to inform you that in choosing any One Word, you will be humbled. We can start strong and trip over our good intentions, hiding those words away with all our forgotten plans or crushed hopes. I may have done that, too, this year.
I love the smokestacks in the port of Dublin. I've heard they're disused, unneeded, but the general population (or perhaps, the more traditional, sentimental of the population) fight against their potential destruction. I can see why they would fight it.Read More