Irish movies (My top 5, and five more to see)

October 16, 2013 Karen Huber

There are two kinds of Irish movies. The kind Americans love and the somewhat realistic kind. Leap Year falls into the former category. Once in the latter. It's like any movie filmed in a city/state/country you know well. Location discrepancies or flubbed accents can detract from an otherwise well-told story. And while I'm no expert, Gerard Butler's accent in P.S. I Love You is a prime example (or Julia Roberts in Michael Collins or Tom Cruise in Far and Away... you get the idea).

I hesitate to even list my favourite Irish films - pronounced fil-ims - as I'm sure there are some unrealistic aspects to them, but for the benefit of my massive world-wide audience (amiright?!), here's my top five:

An outsider's observations on justice

October 15, 2013 Karen Huber

Photo by Stephen Bergin on Unsplash — Photo by Stephen Bergin on Unsplash

In the mornings, the children and I listen to the news over our cereal and coffee. Today is a big day. It is budget day in Ireland and it is release day for John Gilligan. We didn't live here when he was sent to prison, but we had read the stories and seen the footage. We had heard...

In the garden where we mine our hearts :: At home in Ireland

October 14, 2013 Karen Huber

I wrote this six months ago, but it's probably my favourite post from this year. So yes, it's kind of cheating. I hope you'll forgive me, anyway, as I'm still learning and relearning the lesson here over and over and over again... Nine months pregnant with Asher and...

Sundays with the poets

October 13, 2013 Karen Huber

I never saw a man who looked
With such a wistful eye
Upon that little tent of blue
Which prisoners call the sky,
And at every drifting cloud that went
With sails of silver by.

From The Ballad of Reading Gaol by Oscar Wilde

This October I'm writing every day on being at home in Ireland. But on Sundays I'll be sharing the words of others... with pictures that, of course, will never do their words justice.

The flip side

October 12, 2013 Karen Huber

And then there are the days you're all alone. The house is devoid of food. You have taken stock and made the list and prepared the children and remembered the shopping bags.

Of course, you forget the list and the children forget you or any word of virtue you've ever spoken. The grocery store is full and they trail behind you leap-frogging and crashing into the cheese aisle. One physically removes himself from the trolley (cart) at the till (register), getting stuck and crying to anyone who will listen. You bag your own bags and give your brood the curtest, loudest (because you just don't care anymore how quiet your American voice is) direction to Go. Now.

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