SO you’re probably back to work today and doubtless a colleague or two will pose the perennial Irish question: so how did you get over the Christmas?

“IT’S absolutely fucking jammed down there.”

WHY didn’t the Government TDs, now kicking-up over the budget, do so earlier.

BY the time you read this you may well have some idea how tough the next year will be.

WHAT was striking about the marches in Ireland last weekend following the death of Savita Halappanavar was how so many of those attending had never been on a political march of any sort before.

AMERICAN politicians regularly — and often hilariously — describe their country as the “greatest democracy in the world”, despite the fact a president can just squeak election in terms of real votes but win a landslide in the electoral college; despite the fact the balance of powers between Congress and the president are such that the system often seizes up; and despite the fact that new laws are sometimes not made by the legislature but by the US Supreme Court.

IN the late 1980s, like many Irish people, I emigrated to London.

WE’RE stuffed with bad news and cynicism, and the clocks just went back, and it’s dark and miserable, and Christmas is coming (and who can afford that?), and now the Government is asking people to vote on some referendum — another one? — something to do with kids.

WE don’t credit the Brits with ‘giving’ us our country; or, at least, giving us the idea of it.

Moore Street used to be the epitome of auld Dublin but now resembles the street scenes from Blade Runner: an exotic mix of fruit and veg sellers, stalls offering designer bags of dubious provenance and rows of small shops selling supposedly smart phones.