After a three month sabbatical, I have decided that it is time that I remount my trusty steed and start driving once more. While I understand that, after my abject failure at my last test would indicate that the wisest course of action would have been to continue my classes on schedule. Regular practice is the means by which people obtain their driver’s licences. Continue reading Back on the saddle again
Like the wailing from the lost souls in hell, my alarm clock started ringing at 6.30am. For most daytime dwelling, commuter folk – particularly those with offspring – this is a normal time to start the day. Not for my good self. I have my morning routine, refined to a precision that would make an Olympian proud. A simple matter of misplacing my keys for thirty seconds can mean the difference between catching, or missing my bus to the grim, industrial wastelands of North County Dublin. Continue reading The wastelands on a snowy winter’s morning
I felt slightly soiled after reading this tawdry tale of opportunism and malice; but for those of you outside Ireland (or those of you without an affinity for ‘human interest’ stories – what the kids these days called ‘clickbait’) then you might not yet have heard this sordid story. Continue reading #Bloggergate: The White Moose edition. A deeply grubby tale.
The Pavillion Theatre in Dun Laoghaire was my destination last night, to see ‘Forgotten’ – the one-man show written by and starring Pat Kinevane. Through the media of Japanese kabuki theatre and Irish storytelling. Kinevane tells the interlinked tales of four geriatrics living in care homes (or ‘assisted living facilities’ as they are so euphemistically described by Americans) in Ireland.
Continue reading Theatre times: ‘Forgotten’ by Pat Kinevane
Yesterday evening I went to clown class. It is part of an ongoing series of clowning workshops that have taken place with the theatre group, but the first one I could attend. Continue reading Murphy, the red-nosed clown.
I was a child when the Kerry Babies case was the biggest news story in the country. I can remember it being splashed all over the news, and can recall the bare bones of the story. I can remember the picture of Joanne Hayes on the front page of every newspaper, every day for what seems like months, during the Tribunal of Inquiry into the original case. I can remember my father describing it is as a horror film. Continue reading The Dark Tale of the Kerry Babies
She wasn’t a friend of mine. I didn’t know her. She had no idea that I existed. But Dolores dying makes me incredibly sad. Continue reading Dolores O’Riordan – the voice of Limerick
I am in Limerick again this weekend. This is the third consecutive weekend I have spent here. Granted the first two coincided with Christmas but that’s irrelevant. It means that I have had a growing urge to explore the region. Continue reading The castle
That was an attention grabbing title, I am sure you’ll agree.
It is partly true, it is also partly a personal challenge. Continue reading I have written a book
Christmas was gluttonous. Some exercise was needed. What better way to stretch one’s legs, while communing with nature, than a canal walk from the city, to where the canal joins the river, and onward to the University of Limerick, along the banks of the River Shannon. Continue reading Shannon Banks