It's not all been hard work. At the end of March we went to Dublin.
A little down at heel, far too expensive, not quite how I’d imagined it; what I liked best was the people. They really had something. This is a city where administrators and lawyers look like poets and you can catch the wisdom in ordinary people’s eyes. When I asked the young man at the bar for a guide to the stock of whiskies, he replied in the finest descriptive prose. The vibe was infectious but easy and when the woman who’d downed enough pints of Guinness to fell a six foot man told me I fitted in very well, I was more than ready to believe her.
Bridget McCormac, born in Dublin, youngest of 19 children and my paternal great grandmother, whatever part of you swims around in my DNA you’re still resonating.