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It's a strange thing, no longer living in America. News and life and things happen in your old homeland and you see passing glimpses of it, but never the stories underneath. It's ok, really, this disconnect. I enjoy not having to make some sort of statement or...
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Nine months pregnant with Asher and I'd sit in a bed of weeds. Matt would grab hold of my arms and lower me down as I could neither bend nor reach over my belly to the ground. He would check on the veg, plucking and pulling what was ripe.
Read moreSince moving, my writing has been a bit... er... irregular. My trusty macbook fizzled nearly as soon as we landed on Irish soil (bad battery, bad charger, dying motherboard, etc.) and our desktop is stationed in our office/library/playroom, so it's been taken over by a 3 year old with an addiction to Netflix.
I had this vision for a place to write in the bay window of our bedroom, away from the bustle of the kitchen and the laundry, looking out on that one tiny mountain in the distance. But, you know, feeding the kids and getting car insurance and other such adult responsibilities take priority, so I sighed a lot. Pinned a lot of things. Made a very hefty to do list for Matt ("you know, whenever you can, no rush...(sigh)").
Read moreI can pick up accents. It's kind of a gift.
Drop me anywhere in the western hemisphere (so far) and I can pick up the cadence, the lilt, the structure and the pronunciations of someone else's mother tongue. Places I've experimented with this include, but are not limited to, Wisconsin, Canada, New England, the Deep South, Ireland and England. Scotland is the lone exception. It it an impossible - though beautiful - accent.
And I used to do impressions.
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A lot of things get put on hold when you move: organizing, cooking, and cleaning, to name just a few. Also on my hold list these past few months? Reading. You know I love to read, whether I finish the book or not, and I've missed these down times of...
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