There we were, out on the ocean, lilting and bouncing like the jig of the same name, quickly moving from high to low. Michael is skipper: deeply tanned face, hoop ring in one ear – a pirate look, without being too cliched about it. We’re in a RIB, a rigid bottom, inflatable around the rim, light … Continue reading Out on the Ocean
It is 1978. Everyone is talking about Close Encounters of the Third Kind. It has taken longer to get to Ireland. All films do. “Everyone says its brilliant,” my brothers say. “We’re going,” they say. I am interested, but not interested enough to beg to go along with them. I tell you this because, were … Continue reading Portrush, Harbour Diving Boards
In this place there is no bedtime and no set time to rise, both are done in keeping with one’s mood, whim, energies. In this place there is always energy. This place has loose joints, vitality, a spring in its step. Here, skin is smooth, wrinkles are fine tracings of smile lines, worries are pushed … Continue reading Summer at Home
Either her mum – if she was taking the boy to football – would drop her off, or I would drive the mile through the park to collect her. For a while, I themed our dinners by colour. Accidentally at first, a game we stumbled upon because of orange week – the week we had … Continue reading Every End Is A New Beginning
Games are easily mastered with only three years of life experience in your bones. Nothing about the world has made you cynical, nothing or no one makes you feel foolish. A game is whatever you think of, and whatever you think of is endlessly fascinating, hilarious, wonderful. The almost three-year-old had found the bouncy egg, … Continue reading The Game of Life
I am alone in the carriage when the train pulls out of Derry. I take a seat on the left by a window, the side that will skirt the water, give me the best views along this stunning section of line. As the train gains speed along the Foyle estuary three boys tumble into the … Continue reading Off The Rails (I)
There’s something about staring out to sea that slows one’s breathing, and no matter how rough the sea is, the mind calms, ideas stir, if you happen to be with someone, easy conversation flows. I was sitting on a bench yesterday, looking out to sea, friend beside me, take away coffees, scones in brown paper … Continue reading If I Knew Then
‘Bomb the hill, bomb the hill!’ He scoots off. ‘What’s he saying?’ I ask the dad. ‘He’s saying he wants to bomb the hill.’ So, I had heard correctly. ‘He’s two years old and can barely say my name, but he can say ‘bomb the hill’? You need to go to parenting classes. What does … Continue reading Bomb Hills Not Countries
Christmas 1983, and the blue box with the yellow cursive print that says ‘Trivial Pursuit’ is the big family present of the year. Games would last for hours. If it got too late, the board and pieces were left in place with orders not to touch so it could be resumed the next day. My … Continue reading Playing Trivial Pursuit
On the fun to be had in falling into water.
My Edinburgh Press 