Diary of a busyish woman

  Our memories are never exact & that’s a fact. They’re coloured by the emotions of then & now; and what we want to remember. Perhaps I only walked with my father once or twice to the five acre wood or perhaps it was a more regular event - I don’t know. All I can share are my memories.  Leaving Mum, grandparents & sisters behind, I walked beside Dad, independently, silently, admiring my wellies! Down the lane, across the road, Dad climbed over the gate & I clambered through the lower bars. (That was what I now know as a blacksmith’s gate - lower bars close together to prevent lambs skipping through & the space widening as you looked from the ground up, the frame secured by a diagonal bar). Anyway back to our walk, we continued up the field towards the wood with Dad stopping every so often to look around, checking the cattle who took no notice of us, taking a look at the neighbours’ fields; & pointing out flowers like gorse or blackberry, which were buzzing, as t

Hi, No photos this time because I'm on a bit of a rant: Hubby & I like our coffee. He's all Americano & I like Cappuccino. We like full-bodied strong but not bitter coffee. I make a pot of filtered coffee most mornings when I'm at home and just have it with a drop of milk. I've tried black, but it just doesn't work for me. Always on the lookout for places that serve good coffee, we were on our way home from Kerry recently. We stopped at one hotel, where the receptionist didn't even look up from her computer screen and the bar was closed. I suggested we could get a cup and sit to read the paper in the foyer where the furniture looked really comfy, but Hubby was having none of it. He had previous experience of being served the coffee from a coffee jug and it was super weak in his opinion. Retreating to our vehicle, we continued on our merry, or not so merry, way. Before long, I spied a simple sign, 'Coffee House'. That was all the encouragement

Habits are funny old things. We talk of the ' habits of a lifetime' or 'breaking the habit '. Habits are part of a routine be they good or bad. We also talk of 'addictive habits ' - a work colleague took me to one side, when I was in my 20's, and explained how easy it is to fall into the habit of drinking too much alcohol. Easy to get the habit and can be brutally difficult to lose it! He was, and still is, a member of Alcoholics Anonymous. I often think of him and the influence he had on me for long-term good. September and January herald new resolutions:- increasing fitness; losing the holiday kilo/pounds; healthier lifestyle. The problem is that after the first few weeks, so many of us slide right back into same old, same old. We don't tend to appreciate our environment half enough because it's like a habit - always there and we are unaware of the small imperceptible changes that happen daily unless of course there is a catastrophe. Autumn Co

Recently I met a few people with whom I'd attended secondary school. 40 years on and we had all travelled different paths & had a great time comparing notes. One of the things that I have been reflecting has been the different attitudes to food which were expressed that afternoon. The group included myself - a meat producer & carnivore although vegetables, fruit etc constitute a large part of my diet; a coeliac ; and a vegan but the person with whom I'm actually identifying is a 'locavore'. Our health, food experience and adventures, animal welfare knowledge & assumptions are among the contributory factors to our food choices these days. Gone are the days for many when there was no choice but to eat in season and whatever was affordable - with sweets & cordial as treats. I've said it before that my childhood was extremely rich and we neither realised nor appreciated it. Our farm was pretty well self-sufficient as was normal in those days. Our gran

Hi. Please bear with me because I'm not a psychologist/psychotherapist/counsellor or someone with a qualification on modern society. Recently, I met with a group of schoolfriends, one of whom I hadn't met since 1978/79! That's a heck of a long time and the conversation could have been awkward, because we have all gone in different directions; achieved different ambitions or not; married, single, divorced... The variables were incredible. What transpired was, for me, truly special. At one point, I was asked if I was ok because I was so quiet! I was revelling. There were no sides; no competition, just a genuine interest in how we were all doing. It was fantastic. We were all comfortable with each other. I'm fairly forthright and honestly, at this age if people don't like me or some aspect of my lifestyle (including the fact that I prefer to read a book/cook & bake/write my blog to doing housework, which will still await me tomorrow), I really don't mind. I

I'm currently a church warden in St. Fachtna's Cathedral , Rosscarbery . It's a small role I've taken on this year for the third in a row. While I may be of some use ensuring everything is ready for Sunday morning at 11:30, let me assure you that I do it for very selfish reasons. Let me explain:- There are so many of these 'mindfulness' courses that people flock to attend, I'm in awe. In awe, because every Sunday, I'm in the Cathedral for perhaps 45 minutes before the service. The preparation doesn't take that long, so why am I there? This is my selfish time. I stop. I sit for anywhere between 10 and 15 minutes.  I sit at the back of the church and I don't have a book or a screen in front of me. I just sit and look:-  St. Fachtna's Cathedral, Rosscarbery at the walls - built to last with a little care from ensuing generations;  the stained glass window on my right (there is another in the transept);  the stained glass windows th