Late last night, when my husband was out, my son told me a secret. My son wants to tell my husband this secret himself tonight, at 9pm, so until then I must keep it to myself.More
HOME alone, well past midnight.
I am half asleep in bed when my mobile phone vibrates. I fumble around in the bedding.
I’ve set myself the mind-sharpening challenge of establishing internet access in our cabin in the field, single-handed.More
TUESDAY, 1pm, Cork city. I am here to replace my laptop; I can cope with the foreplay no longer; all the selfish technological petting it has demanded of me ever since the day I got it.
Monday, 11 am, and I am in hospital, about to undergo a “routine” procedure which requires “conscious sedation”, a tiny camera on a long black cable for bodily insertion, and for me to “just relax”.More
HOME, 7pm, up in the cabin and our architect has just left. My husband and I are sitting at the kitchen table, scrutinising three sets of floor-plans.More
MONDAY night, and I’ve been summoned down from the cabin. It is dinner time and my husband has cooked.More
WEDNESDAY evening, home, and it would seem my husband has just discovered the 5:2 diet.More
IT’S 6.30pm, Thursday, and my husband and I are yawning at each other across the kitchen table.More
In town. I have just reversed my Nissan into a tight spot on a steep hill and entered cavernous premises advertised by a sign which says “Secondhand Furniture and Other Auld Shite”.
Sligo, Saturday, early afternoon. My sister and I are in the polytunnel, preparing our entries for the Boyle Summer Show, which takes place tomorrow at midday.More
Wednesday, 3 pm, Gort. We are driving up to visit my sister in Sligo, and in keeping with time-honoured tradition, the sky suddenly drops out of its customary high position and lands on the bonnet.More