Diary of a busyish woman

The Forbes quote today was: ' Have your own definition of success...so you can fulfill your dreams, not someone else's expectations of your dreams. Elliot Fletcher I read this quote & immediately saved it. Since then, I've looked at it, thought about it, applied it to our situation & to me, and then thought some more.  Let's get real here - if we have children, we have expectations. Be they right or wrong, in various ways, obvious and subtle, we do our best to have those expectations realised from their friends to the subject choices they make in secondary school, college choices, even down to our expectation for their personal lives and the type of person they choose to marry. Ideally, we would like them to be a 'chip off the old block'.  It's not going to happen! Even though when we see children and you'd know who they were before they spoke as they are so like a particular parent, currently all children are the product of two peo

Hi everyone, I think my post about being Over 50 & Seriously Unfit must have tapped a few people on the shoulder. I hope none is as unfit as I was & over such an extended period, and that the article I wrote will encourage people to do rather than think about exercise. To a degree, it comes down to self-belief, I think. If you're hit regularly with negative comments, then it is only to be expected that you'll start to believe them. You may wonder why I used the verb 'hit' but that's what it can feel like - being flayed by tongues & words. In my case, I know that those who told me that I couldn't participate in this or that exercise or sport, were doing it for the very best reasons. Looking back on my teen years, I always seemed to be on the edge looking in because I couldn't get involved. So how did I cope? There were two sides to the equation: - the non-participant role which could have led to me withdrawing from inter-action with my peers e

This is a real bugbear of mine and the longer we're in the 'food business', the more it irks me. I love nothing better than eating from a menu where the provenance is defined - whether the animals have been reared organically, free range, chemical free or intensive; the vegetables come from wherever; even milk and cream. I admire the many dining establishments who genuinely try to use as  many as they can source & afford. Unfortunately when I see words like 'local' I tend to see red. Local is like artisan. Who's applying & indeed checking the definition? A few years ago, I enjoyed a weekend in Killarney, and as I was on a 'weekend off' decided to forego the full Irish breakfast in favour of the cold meat plate consisting of local meats. Foolishly I assumed these meats would have been sourced in Co. Kerry or at most West Cork, but no, they had been sourced on the island of Ireland! To an American who is accustomed to vast distances, and the not

Christmas time is hectic in every food producer's business especially when in fresh produce, so yesterday I spent in the office - filing, filing, checking information, filing, sorting a few queries, and still my desk isn't clear. I thought, 30 years ago, that the advent of computers would reduce if not eliminate paper records.  At the time, I remember I worked for a stockbroker as a very junior Junior. It was fascinating. Every day these cards would arrive and it was my job to file them removing the old out-of-date cards. These contained information on company prices; trends; shares etc. Because of where the office was situated, I was also responsible for filing the exact same information in the Cork Stock Exchange. This quiet room situated at the back of the buildig was hidden behind a heavy green curtain in the Y.M.C.A. building in Marlboro St,. Cork. With the curtain closed and the door locked, I would spend a few minutes after filing to just look at all the files and infor

Hi I've become quite fascinated in recent years with obituaries whether I knew the person or not. If that sounds morbid, it's not. It's really an opportunity for the writer to essentially write a critique of a person and his/her life. As long as there's nothing slanderous, I don't think there are any real limitations on what's written and published unless one takes the difference between good and bad taste into account. It's like a eulogy at a funeral. I had never heard a Eulogy until one of my grand-aunts died and on an unseasonably hot April day in Kinsale in 1976, I sat in the Methodist Church and really wondered if, somehow or other, I was at the wrong funeral. I remember taking a quick look at the congregation and, no, there was my family, Auntie Mabel's family, friends and relations. Then I wondered if the speaker could have been at the wrong funeral. In fact that's the conclusion I've reached and maintained in the intervening years. The

Post Christmas exhaustion left me open to infection not the blues. From  http://articles.bplans.com/ Hi, One of the problems being busy is that if you have a chance to stop, the body goes into downtime and lets you know in no uncertain terms that there's a time when rest & relaxation is mandatory not optional. Exhaustion Emoji Last weekend, I wasn't feeling too good, but put it down to general tiredness. During the week, I had what I thought were a recurrence of  'hot flushes' which I hadn't suffered for a few months. Finally on Tuesday, I realised as I drove towards home, that things weren't adding up. Made an appointment and visited my G.P. Explained my symptoms and one of her first questions was to ask if I had taken my temperature! I think she held back on the laughter by great self-discipline when I explained why not. Anyway, I threw in a sore, hot ear & the verdict was an ear infection and flu. No, not a heavy cold, but flu. Ther