A car horn is for two things: 1. To indicate peril, threat to life, impending death. In this instance the horn should be used in a sharp, short burst to alert adjacent vehicle(s) to the possibility of a horrible accident about to unfurl. 2. It’s a rural town in Ireland and the local publican’s daughter … Continue reading Beep Beep
I’m better. Pretty much. The fire in my head has been doused. T. told me to drink hot whiskey. I didn’t. Not because it wasn’t a good idea, I just forgot to uncork the bottle of Bush each evening. Y. suggested I gently tap below my eyes, from the bridge of my nose to my temples, tracing the … Continue reading Dream Angus
My husband used to say, “we are all ethnic somewhere.” It is a true and wise leveller. Another favourite line of his, in response to someone asking him, “Where is that accent from?” was to bounce back in his soft, mellifluous Canadian tones, “What accent? I don't have an accent, you’re the one with the … Continue reading Everyone Has An Accent
“It was Christmas Eve babe In the drunk tank An old man said to me, won't see another one And then he sang a song The Rare Old Mountain Dew I turned my face away And dreamed about you” (Fairytale of New York, The Pogues) “Is anyone going to help me peel this bottomless bag … Continue reading Can’t Make It All Alone
In both the religious and the secular world, November is the month of remembering the dead: the ordinary dead, the glorious dead, the forgotten dead. Remembrance Sunday fell this month and people are still wearing their poppies (a smattering of white now joining the red). They are probably worn for different reasons: to respectfully call … Continue reading Past Glories
“I was sick and tired of everything, when I called you last night from Edinburgh. All I do is eat and sleep and sing, wishing every show was the last show.” (Abba, Super Trouper) Ok, in the real lyrics it’s Glasgow rather than Edinburgh, which seems to me such an unlikely city to feature in … Continue reading Super Trouper
I’m back in Ireland for a visit, on the windy north coast. Two years ago I was jettisoned back here, life interrupted, everything suspended after K. died. It was an unreal time, those early months. Your world contracts to the size of a snow globe, sometimes calm, but often shaken – those little white flecks making … Continue reading Those We Miss
‘You took a mystery and made me want it / You got a pedestal and put me on it/ You made me love you out feeling nothing/ Something that you do.’ Remember it? ‘Chain Reaction’- written by the Bee Gees and made famous by the sweet tones of Diana Ross. It’s a great floor-filler. Those opening lyrics, … Continue reading On A Pedestal
“I just don't get it. Never did. Does nothing for me. Can’t read it, can't write it, can't understand it.” J. and I were out on the dock with his guitar, singing; exchanging songs, old and new, and in between times we’d chat about this and that. ‘This’ was why I liked to write, and … Continue reading Lyrics of Life
Every so often my father used to tell me: ‘these days are the best days of your life.’ It would confuse me. ‘You told me that last year,’ I’d remind him. He wasn’t forgetful. He knew full well he’d told me the same thing a year ago. He tried to explain: those were the best days, just as … Continue reading These Days
