“Can you cut my hair? It’s only a trim...”

TUBES, buses, taxis and planes have returned me home safely from Geneva to west Cork.

I walk into my kitchen, glad to be back.

I haven’t seen my teenage daughters for five days and they greet me now with smiles like sunbeams. I’ve bought them each a silver ring with a heart on it, from a French shop full of candy stripes and rose prints, a world of sparkle and strawberries that reminded me of them. I give them their rings. They’re delighted.