The notion that we should keep the reference to a woman’s ‘life within the home’, to reflect the work she continues to do, is idiotic

A few months back, somebody suggested I write a column about visiting a medium. I liked the idea straight away, mostly because I’d never have come up with it myself. I’d characterise myself as being both sceptical and open-minded.

There is one film I would love everyone to see. It is based on a true story. The protagonist is an Irish nun living in France and working as a nurse during the Second World War, caring for both German and Allied soldiers.

Throughout the series, the evils of imperialism are not so much sidestepped as erased, which will go unnoticed by much of the British public, educated as they are into an absolute ignorance of their monarchy’s impact

Our beloved language isn't doing well

Domestic violence is just as devastating and as deadly as the violence we might be unlucky enough to suffer on the streets. So why do we view them differently?

John Lennon didn’t make it to Christmas in 1980 — he was killed two weeks shy of it, by a man craving fame and clutching a copy of The Catcher in The Rye, an American classic about the protection of innocence.

As a mother of three, I remember the intense focus that was placed on skin-to-skin contact after giving birth. My second baby was whisked away the second she emerged. My third was taken to the ICU not too long after she was born too.

It’s official. 2023 is the year of the sequin. Stores are bursting with flashy, sparkly, plastic little discs and Ireland is turning itself into one giant gyrating human disco ball for Christmas. It’s lovely for us, for the week or two that’s in it.

There’s a house on my walk to work that makes me happy every time I pass it. The glow of it turns my dark mornings brighter and more joyful.