Six weeks have passed and I am still fairly house bound. At this stage I am crawling the four walls, that common form of cabin fever, . . .
Amidst the bizarreness of the current world, I went off as happy as you like to replace my ten year driving licence which had finally expired. It's a funny experience, the Driving Licence . . .
For so many reasons this week I’m feeling grateful for the small things. The new generation of robins in the garden, the golden glow of an Irish autumn day, the roof over my head. Apparently . . .
There's an exquisite late blooming iris outside my window. It catches the precious dewey light and as everything around it is dying back, grabs the spotlight at . . .
"I think of when I was in high school in the 1940s: the white girls got their hair crinkled up by chemicals and heat so it would curl, and the black girls got their hair mashed flat by . . .