Home is a moving target

Us expats have many little tricks we us to get us through being away from the motherland and family. We discuss a four year plan but as the years pass, the four year plan starts every September, until you realise you’ve been nearly ten years abroad, you’re kids know more Arabic than Irish and you’re…

Don’t be Amazing

There’s one thing I can’t help but notice since I’m back in Ireland for summer and that is the emphasis on ‘amazing’.   It seems, grand, fine and just alright no longer exist and everything from a burger to a minibreak is…..amazing. Talk to anybody about a night out and they’ll tell you the meal was…

Price of Granny

Halfway through our stay back home and the results of being around extended family are evident. The kids go to mass with Granny, tend the garden with Grandad, go with aunty Claire to the Pet Farm with Uncle Sean to the match and so on, over the course of the summer their circle triples in…

Water Water Everywhere

There’s certain comfort in always knowing that no matter what happens with the Irish weather it will a., not suit everyone but b., and rather amazingly, not suit anyone! For a country that has made talking about the weather an accepted topic for conversation nationwide, it is amazing that this glorious weather is not widely…

Daisy Chains

Earlier this week I left the 52 degrees of Qatar and looked forward to arriving home to a nice damp 17 degrees with a drizzle. It wasn’t to be, we pulled into the coach station to a splintering 29degrees and not a promise of rain. As we reluctantly discarded our fleecy hoodies which we have…

Is there nothing sacred?

Well, there you have it, we have it all now. We’ve got divorce, we’ve got equality between heterosexual and homosexual marriage, we’ve got the Health Service Executive providing gender changes and now we have abortion. Ireland is truly a liberal country. We now have national approval and the supporting legislation to shape and mould ourselves…

The Debs in Doha

It every girl’s dream and every parent’s nightmare, prom. Call it what you want, I called it the debs, others called it graduation and more called it passing out.  The passing out part was what I was afraid of. Back in my day the debs was an awkward affair, firstly you had to ask a…