Baby, you can drive my car.

This is a long, long, long and winding tale of a government, a virus and me. As with all stories, plot twists abound, driven by pathos, frustration and, ultimately, redemption. Our heroine tries to bear up under it all, sometimes with grace and sometimes lacking grace entirely, occasionally coerced into screaming like a banshee, and then trying desperately to center and calm the mind. Let me tell you, desperation is not a fit state for a calm mind! How she cursed those gurus who know ways of contentment. She would find herself trying to be reasonable and rational: surely this…Continue Reading

The Unknown Known of America

The Unknown Known. In his most recent book, “We Don’t Know Ourselves,” Irish Times columnist Fintan O’Toole coins this term to describe the myriad times in the past 65 years of his life that the Irish people have chosen to bury what they know to be true. Girls disappearing to “visit an aunt in England” for nine months or more? A deeply corrupt but engaging prime minister? Priests molesting little boys? A briefly lucrative but totally chimeric Celtic tiger? You know the truth in your heart and your soul. But you can’t know it, because to know it is to…Continue Reading

‘I can do this.’ Rwandan women work to find their path

In Rwanda, as in many cultures throughout the world, teenaged mothers are terribly marginalized. Especially in rural areas of the country, many girls are without access to proper birth control or reproductive education. Many are victims of gender-based violence, and yet, of course, they are blamed for their pregnancy. “Once you’re a teen mother here, you’re basically garbage. It’s your fault, your stigma, your shame. Your parents disown you. If you are a victim of rape, you don’t admit it because you don’t expect people to believe you,” said my daughter Bridget Rhinehart, the Rwandan country director for the Swedish…Continue Reading

Kwibuka, remember, the Rwandan genocide

One million people in 100 days. That is how many ethnic Tutsis were believed to have been murdered by Hutu forces — their fellow countrymen — in the 1994 Rwandan genocide. One million people in 100 days. Try to wrap your head around what that means. In order to kill that many people in so short a period of time, thousands, tens of thousands were wiped out en masse – in churches, in basements, in hospitals, whole communities gone in an instant, dumped in mass graves. Women and children especially were targeted so that there would be no next generations.…Continue Reading

Ukrainian thoughts from Irish soil

There is a deepening sense of unease here. If I still lived in the states, I would be horrified, angry, insulted about the war in Ukraine – all of the emotions my American friends and family are feeling and perhaps more. I would not, at least not immediately, be adding to that an anxious unrest and an inkling of fear that comes from living in Europe right now. World War I, World War II, these were Europe’s wars. Yes, America was deeply involved, but the fighting was in France and England, Brussels and Italy. And even though Ireland is not…Continue Reading

Ripped from today’s headlines

I turn to current events in today’s blog. I fully get this will not be everyone’s cup of tea, but there’s a lot happening on this side of the pond right now. Perhaps most pressing is the Russian troop buildup on the border of Ukraine. It seems pretty clear that Europe is holding its collective breath at the moment. Presidents, prime ministers and high-ranking officials have been visiting with Russian President Vladimir Putin and Ukrainian president Volodymyr Zalensky at a fair clip in recent weeks – Emmanuel Macron of France, Olaf Scholz of Germany, British Foreign Secretary Liz Truss and…Continue Reading

Crows and ravens and jackdaws, oh my!

This is a tale of the raven, the crow. For most of my life, if I may borrow liberally from Edgar Allan Poe, my feelings about these corvids and their cousins could be summed up in a single word: nevermore. Nevermore would I see anything redeeming in these bulky, black, opportunistic creatures who scatter their smaller avian brothers and sisters to grab the tastiest morsels for themselves. Oh, smart no doubt, that was obvious, but using that intelligence as a robber. And that screeching! That a group of crows is called a murder, I found not at all surprising. Nevermore!…Continue Reading

A ‘very authentically Irish’ holiday extravaganza

As an American, I feel I may be presumptuous, dare I say even brazen, to be writing this blog about a seemingly sacred Irish institution that is integral to the holiday heart of this country. No, I’m not talking about advent, not the Solstice, not midnight Mass. Ah, no. I’m talking about outrageous Christmas jumpers (that’s sweaters to the uninitiated), a cacophony of red and green. I’m talking about glitzy show numbers, one-liners to put Henny Youngman to shame, cute children running the show and running amok. I’m talking pathos and humor and tears and laughter. This, my friends from…Continue Reading

The neophyte traveler heads to the continent

I am a traveling neophyte, despite my rather advanced age. In this, I have no expectations or preconceived notions, but also not a lot of savvy. You can plan and plan in advance of a trip, visiting many websites, reading articles, looking for the best airfares and lodging to fit your budget, but in the end, unexpected surprises are bound to occur. And there was more than one for me, as I wended my way to the Algarve region of Portugal recently – my first foray to the European continent since moving to Ireland. The size and magnitude of Albufeira,…Continue Reading

Thoughts on turning 70

Because I was born on Oct. 27, 1951, I have recently had a birthday that is seen by many as one of some import. I acknowledge this, while I also choose not to allow a word, seventy, to hold sway. These decade birthdays have become anxiety-producing mileposts imposed on us all by a society that devalues age.  ‘I’m 30! Egads! I have to be an adult!’ As if maturity could not be attained at 25 or 29, as if you will turn into a slug if you’re swimming in uncertainty at 31. ‘I’m 50 today and what have I done…Continue Reading