Friday, March 31, 2017


30th March 2017

Where The Fault Lies 

Apologies to all my loyal readers for the relative silence with regard to posts on my blog over the last few weeks.
The fault lies with the fact that I have a "new" laptop ( from my son - second hand,  not so old), which I am trying, when I feel motivated, to move all my working files to.
I can't access my blog on the new model as I don't remember my password and the old contraption has it saved for me so I never needed it.
Needless to say I am writing now on that computer, which is getting hot and will probably burst into flames at any moment leaving my blog floating round in the "clouds" with no chance of me ever getting to see it again, which would be hugely disappointing and frustrating.
But I am going to throw caution to the wind and carry on writing and hope that I am not unrecognisable and  buried in a pile of ash when someone comes looking for me tomorrow.
I am looking forward to a visit from my son next week and he assures me that he will be able to help me to sort it.

It is now 20th May and I'm still getting a hot leg with the old laptop on my leg. I just feel comfortable with this one .

Friday, March 24, 2017


24th March 2017

Just want to wish my lovely husband a very Happy Birthday today.

Haven't written much on my blog lately . But here is a Six Sentence challenge for this week, using the prompt : Point


Do you use butter or margarine and why do you make that choice  and is there any point in spending at least twice as much to have real butter?
I lick my lips and fingers as butter melts and drips from  my toasted rolls, while I ponder that for years when we were bringing up the children we chose, for reasons of cost and many mouths to feed, to buy cheap margarine.
Because, isn't it true that you wouldn't want your margarine dripping down your chin or to bite into thick lumps of it in your sandwich, which means that you eat less or none at all,  being as it's not the tastiest accompaniment to your fresh bread.
But  the children have left home and so now we spoil ourselves, eating nearly half a pound of butter each every week.
My mother and my grandmother both had butter in their pantry or fridge all the time, having no time at all for the unnatural alternative and mum would bring her own with her ( only Kerrygold would do) whenever she came to visit.
It has become, for me, one of the pleasures of life, which I don't want to give up but which I have to watch carefully because I am eating a lot more bread and new potatoes, both tasting so delicious with the added knob of butter.

Saturday, March 11, 2017


11th March 2017

It is heartwarming to see that my blog has had over 28,100 visits. Thank you to all those who read and comment. 

Enjoyed the writing workshop this morning.

So this six sentence challenge incorporates the cue word "will" and one of the themes of the workshop.


She would not be known by that name anymore- Philomena - the name they gave her when aged five and an orphan she was taken to the convent in Eniscorthy.
Although her will was nearly broken, working everyday in the the laundry with  little food, no conversation, or any time for childlike activities, something deep inside her clung to a hope of new beginnings and a better life.
The secret silence had become as loud as thunder, a silence that separated, a silence that pulled a chain tight around her soul and now Marie was going to shatter that silence.
Even before she spoke and although she was worried how her family would react she felt the fetters fall and a longed for freedom fill her lungs with promise.
So, after supper one day , when her husband and children were bantering about whose turn it was to do the washing up, she sat them down and spilled it out and tears fell and bathed the hurt that all of them felt.
Not one of them spoke for a moment or two but when they did they said everything would be ok and they hugged her, while she said, "my name is Marie" and they nodded.

And out in the garden just now plants seem to be growing as you look at them and there are four goldfish in the pond.
Today was definitely a bit spring like.

Friday, March 3, 2017

Ash Wednesday

3rd Mar 2017

The cue for this week's six sentence story is the word  "return".

Ash Wednesday

"You have some dirt on your forehead," the young girl at the supermarket checkout announced whilst efficiently scanning the contents on of my shopping basket.
"Yes, it's ashes in the form of a cross," I replied and that was all I could say as the customer behind me had already taken her attention with stories of where she was going later and why she was in such a hurry.
In actual fact the little cross, which we receive on Ash Wednesday, the start of lent,  did look  more like a thumb sized blob, a bit of dirt.
It made me think that this muck, this easy way of life that I've slipped into where I think only of myself and my own concerns, is precisely what I need to clean up during these forty days.
So, I will return to the narrow way, spending time in prayer and trying and come closer to The Lord.
I will look foreward to living the Easter story with joy as a brighter, more spiritual me.