I have become a bit obsessed about the concept of momentum. I think it’s because of the pandemic and the fact that movement, in whatever realm of life, tends to need nurturing and watching so that it doesn’t grind to a halt, spiral out of control or go mad in some of a vast array of ways.

It is all too easy to start something and then get diverted or disheartened and soon it can all become, ‘sure what’s another day?, ignoring the activity that needs a bit of a shove.

I started doing computer courses with exams at the beginning of the pandemic – voluntarily – and have found that even a day away from doing a bit leaves me thinking, Ah, sure I’ll get back to that tomorrow.

The same kind of thing is at issue with my exercising. The sprained ankle put a major spanner in the works and it has been very hard to get what seemed like a ‘natural’ momentum back. Momentum is very seldom ‘natural.’ We have to push on or the grind to a halt is pretty much inevitable.


I was in full flow writing this the other day when hubby, who is currently doing his bit for the pandemic by staying at home, came into the kitchen where I was engrossed in looking up quotes about momentum. I had wandered on from momentum to progress and read out two particular quotes to him which had caught my eye:

A map of the world that does not include Utopia is not worth even glancing at, for it leaves out the one country at which Humanity is always landing. And when Humanity lands there, it looks out, and, seeing a better country, sets sail. Progress is the realisation of Utopias.”

Oscar Wilde

We can only see a short distance ahead, but we can see plenty there that needs to be done.”

Alan Turing

Hubby agreed that the quotes were great and then said:

‘How about we realise a Utopia and get cracking on spring-cleaning the kitchen. There’s plenty that needs to be done from what I can see. It’s all about momentum, isn’t it?’

So, I had really shot myself in the foot and there was nothing for it but to jump up and say: ‘Right O, let’s get cracking, we may as well do it to music.’

Hours later, with a pristine kitchen and a delighted hubby, I was absolutely worn out and swore to never, ever read out half written blog posts again or maybe even fully written ones.

I am definitely more of an Oscar and hubby is an Alan in the quotes department!

A Stitch in Time …

I didn’t quite tell the whole story when I wrote recently about wanting to return to knitting.

It all came about when son was talking about hand knitted hats and how he was looking at ordering one online. He is a hat man supreme.

Before I knew it, I heard myself say, ‘Sure I could knit you a hat in a few hours.’

The more I was looking at yarns and needles on Irish knitting sites, the more I was convinced that I would be knitting Aran sweaters in no time.

The parcel arrived with a pair of needles and a big ball of chunky wool. I had a pattern at the ready, thanks to all your help.

I sat down at the kitchen table with Puppy Stan eyeing up the ball of wool and my look of mystification.

I had forgotten how to hold the needles, cast on, follow the most basic pattern. A complete blank.

My boasting screamed at me and this felt like the worst own goal of the season, so far.

I picked up the needles and saw them as daggers – I once fell down the stairs as a child and got stabbed in the tummy by a needle in a sock I was using to turn a heel – yes I could turn heels when I was eight but that’s a lifetime ago.

I could hear son’s jaunty footsteps approaching and put on my most confident face. A stitch cast itself on somehow and became 74.

‘Oh you’ve started? , he said picking up the wool to check its texture.

‘Ah yeah, knitting memory, ‘ I said. ‘Just like riding a bike, you never forget. What was that you said the other day about muscle memory?’

It’s taking shape when there’s no one around and memories are flooding back like an unravelling of every stich I every knitted.

Puppy Stan may end up wearing the hat but I did say the first one would be a warm up!

Social Distance

I am still having issues about feeling like the invisible woman when I am out walking. I crave social distance and now that my ankle is still very unstable after the sprain, I find it extremely unnerving to have to step off pavements to avoid gaggles of people who clearly never heard of the 2 metre guidance or the concept of single file or just plain manners.

I heard of one approach to achieving a bit of space from a friend of mine who has a big ferocious looking dog. He walks on the inner and has the dog on the outside and finds that people keep a very wide berth.

Maybe I need to rent an Irish Wolfhound or a huge German Shepherd as our dogs don’t do the trick when it comes to scary, scary. Instead, kids come running to ask if they can pet them!

I’d love to hear of any strategies you have found that work for you, apart from screaming or glaring at people, when you are walking alone and wanting that 2 metres.

PS. I see some people pulling up a mask as I approach as if to send out a silent message but as I wear glasses this could lead to some steamy encounters!

PPS.Would singing loudly do the trick as I am a crow? What songs would work best, I wonder …

Three Years – Give or Take

I got a letter from the bank the other day that offered me all sorts of concessions on the grounds that I was three years older than I actually am.

In that moment, I saw with the clearest of clear vision that I wanted to hold onto those years, no matter how great the concessions.

I pretty much ran to the bank and asked them to give me back my time. The official with whom I was dealing was about half my age and, while very polite, clearly didn’t see the impact that being robbed of three years has the older one gets.

She asked me if I wanted the letter back and it felt like the time I was asked if I wanted my gallstone to put on the mantlepiece.

Empty handed, yet shed of years, I danced home and vowed to make the very, very most of those precious three years.

Don’t be fooled by the calendar. There are only as many days in the year as you make use of.

Charles Richards

No Escape

I am absolutely hopeless when it comes to household duties and am a great one for shoving things into already crammed spaces just to make it seem like I am at least half civilised.

My ways have been rightly found out in the last while as hubby has been off work due to the Covid restrictions. He is much more ‘house proud’ than I am and has taken to cleaning out presses, cupboards, rooms, behind beds, under cushions … you name it, he’s finding it.

I have just made a mad attempt to scour out the fridge before he got cracking on it and it’s now pristine and half empty with in-date stuff. No more landslides for the moment, every time the door is opened.

I blame my grandmother, Jean, for all this cos she was every bit as bad as I am but you should have seen her garden with its array of vegetables and healthy flowers. She also minded the lambs and hens and baked the most delicious food, some with her homemade butter.

I loved her house and all the clutter that came with it. I can just see her in my long distance memory calling me to help her to collect some newly laid eggs.

No doubt, I am not alone in being discovered during this lockdown. I guess it could be a helluva lot worse!

Now to try and find my jacket, which is probably hanging up somewhere  in astonishment …

My Go To Woman ~ Dorothy Parker

There’s days when I need Dorothy Parker to entertain me and this is one of them. No matter what, she’ll change the subject, bring a smile, a shake of the head or pure wonderment.

Honesty means nothing until you are tested under circumstances where you are sure you could get away with dishonesty. (Dorothy Parker)


Creativity is a wild mind and a disciplined eye. (Dorothy Parker)


Time may be a great healer but it’s a lousy beautician. (Dorothy Parker)


There’s a hell of a difference between wisecracking and wit. Wit has truth in it; wisecracking is simply calisthenics with words. (Dorothy Parker)


That woman speaks eighteen languages and can’t say ‘No’ in any of them. Dorothy Parker).





Autumnal Wendings

Today  is our 25th Wedding Anniversary so it’s a day of reflection on the flow of life as we push into our Autumn together:

Winding Ways


Gliding Along



And how could I not include this dog-eared quote from one of Dad’s many books of Humorous Quotations? (After all, he and Mother lived to see 60 years of married bliss!)

Some people ask the secret of our long marriage. We take time to go to the restaurant two times a week. A little candlelight dinner, soft music and dancing. She goes on Tuesdays, I go on Fridays. (Henny Youngman) 


My Inner Idiot

In these days of positivity, you’re not really meant to admit to being stupid about stuff but I’m bursting with words and sayings that sing idiocy. And, who among us doesn’t lie, sit, dance, waver, wave , reel, do handstands and U-turns on the idiotic continuum most of the time?

It’s great to have a repertoire of words with which to tick oneself off for foolishness so just in case you’d like a menu, here’s a few starters.

#1.  Meet the eejit …

#2. What a big galute! 

#3. The Irish didn’t create the word amadán for nothing.

#4. Okay, okay, I know I’m a right  gom.

#5. I think I’ll give grinds on loop-the-lu-las after that performance.

#6. They obviously saw this gomdoodle coming

#7. How could I have been such a clown?

#8. Yes, I’ll have to admit it after THAT: ‘I am a complete and utter head-the-ball.’

#9. As Dad used to say, ‘I’m thicker than the walls of China and they are thick indeed.’ 

#10. In the immortal words of Uncle Wilfred, ‘I’m a little eegit.’ 





Watch those Hyphens!

The Random House Treasury of Humorous Quotations (1996) was a constant companion of Dad’s and it now lives on my desk beside the computer.

This quote got me chuckling this morning and seeing hyphens and flowers through different eyes:

All flowers are flirtatious – particularly if they carry hyphenated names. The more hyphens in the name, the flirtier the flower. The one-hyphen flowers – black-eyed Susan; lady smock; musk-rose – may give you only a shy glance and then drop their eyes; the two-hyphen flowers – forget-me-not; flower-de-luce – keep glancing. Flowers with three or more hyphens flirt all over the garden  and continue even when they are cut and arranged in vases. John-go-to-bed-at-noon does not go their simply to sleep.  (Williard R. Espy)

I went off on a search of flowers’ names and immediately hit on a likely partner for John—–


Who else but Amaryllis Belladonna, otherwise known as Naked Lady!  Here she is in all her glory:

Amaryllis Belladonna ~ Naked Lady
Amaryllis Belladonna ~ Naked Lady

Not too long after noon here in Ireland so I’d best let them have their siesta while I go and do some Christmas-cleaning-hoovering-dusting-washing-ironing-relaxing –