T is for Tallaght and U is for Unknown


T should be for tardiness cos I’ve fallen behind in my A to Z Challenge, but today T is actually for Tallaght. My beloved home town 🙂

Tallaght has had a bad rap over the years, but I for one am proud to have been born and bred there. I was brought up in St. Maelruan’s Park, went to primary school in Our Lady of Loreto GNS (as it was then), and went to secondary school in Old Bawn Community School. I lived in Tallaght until I was 27. I worked in Dublin city centre while I was hairdressing and then worked locally in Xtra Vision on the Greenhills Road and then for The Echo Newspaper before moving to the UK in 1999. But my heart never left Tallaght.

I remember being sent to Reilly’s butchers for chops and I was to tell the butcher they had to be nice ones. (Never knew what that meant). I have a vague recollection of buying a lucky bag in Riordan’s shop in the village, but the shop I remember best is Conlon’s – officially known as The Lilac Centre 🙂 I spent a lot of time walking around the old Tallaght Town Centre. I bought my first record, ‘Hold Me Now’ by the Thompson Twins, in Radio Shack. And every so often, my brother sent me there for new needles for his record player. I bought my lipstick upstairs from the make-up stall and my cigarette (singular), with three matches and a corner of the matchbox from the kiosk. I would go shopping with my mam in H. Williams, until she changed to Dunnes Stores in Kilnamanagh, which was a long walk or a bus ride away if I was meeting her from work. Chips were bought from Borza or Macari’s the odd time, but mostly they were made at home from giant potatoes and cooked in, what would now be considered, a very dangerous deep fat fryer. Halloween costumes were often a black plastic bag and a plastic mask, and McKeowns were always the first to have their tree up for Christmas. I feel blessed to hail from such a place

The Tallaght Flag 🙂

U is for Unknown
an ode to Tallaght

If you have never been there, only heard about its faults
Took the slagging on the telly with more than a pinch o’ salt
If you’ve read the papers saying Tallaght’s just debris
Then you’ve never stopped to look and see the beauty I can see

The hills that wrap around it, like the arms of God himself
The river running through it, like a vein of purest health
The playing fields and football fields of Davis’s and Anne’s
The house where Newtown Rangers got its name, proudly still stands

The Sean Walsh Park, the Tymon Park, the Dodder Valley Park
Though some might try to ruin them, they are part of Tallaght’s heart
Shops and hotels, the Luas line, have made the place a hub
But even Shamrock Rovers, could not beat the Hell Fire Club

The Dragon and Ahernes, The Old Mill, that once was Bridget Burkes
Places for a pint, to wash away the strain of work
The Priory in the Village, St. Maelruan’s up the Road
It’s a place you can believe in, no matter what your Holy code

Can you only really love it, if it is where you are from?
Can you see past all the negative, if it’s not where you were born?
If you’ve never stood in Tallaght, thanking God that it’s your home
Then to you maybe this little town will always be unknown

Memories, like the corners of my mind


I love the Facebook memories function. I enjoy looking back at them; most of the time they are a good laugh. One day last week, some memories popped up that threw me back to what was a very dark time, and I suddenly realised how far I’ve come.

When we moved back to Ireland in 2007 I was in a bad way. I finally let out the sadness that I’d been holding in for a long time. I was on mild medication and going to counselling. I thought that was the beginning of the end; but it turned out to be the beginning of the slow road back to health and strength.

I’m surprised to see myself smiling in the memory photos; inwardly I felt like I was crumbling. Even my hair was awful. I remember coming home from the hairdressers and I cried my eyes out. It didn’t take much to make me cry, but I was so upset by the hatchet job I’d ended up with. Maybe I was too dazed I didn’t communicate properly. I’m sure I showed her a photo, but whatever happened I pretty much ended up with a crew cut. I looked as dreadful as I felt.

The photos are of a holiday we were taking in South East of Ireland in 2008. Friends let us stay in their holiday home. It was a refuge we were grateful for. It was in the middle of nowhere, with no wifi and hardly any phone signal. Just what we needed. Richard was doing a lot of reading and studying for Bible college and sermon prep. I would sit on the floor each day with my guitar, singing and crying to God. It was the lowest I had ever been. I felt sure I’d never recover. I was convinced I was going to die of sadness. It was like I’d saved it up for years; it all came out in one go. Seriously, how I’m smiling in those pics, I don’t know. I remember feeling so empty.

It’s hard to believe the difference. And I suppose that’s the point of this post really. To say that things can change. I didn’t believe God would be ‘the strength of my heart’ – even though I sang it through tears, sitting on that floor.

After my mam died in 2005, God had led to me a beautiful verse which I had taped to my monitor in work. 1 Peter 5:10 And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast. I had been hanging on to that hope. I didn’t just want restoration. I wanted it to be true that “he himself” would restore me, even though I did not believe he would.

Over time though, it has become true for me. I feel stronger, firmer and more steadfast than I ever have. That’s not to say that I don’t have rough days,  just flick through some old posts here and you’ll get the drift.

I just want to encourage anyone who feels overwhelmed with sadness. It can change. God can turn your mourning into dancing. It takes time, and a lot of clinging on. He does it though; I promise.

Better than that… HE promises.

Don’t give up! One day, these sad days will be memories.

A x

T is for Thankful


I’ll finish this AtoZ Challenge, if it’s the last thing I do! 🙂

I know i’ve been a bit hit and miss lately and it is frustrating, but rather than go on and on about how busy I am, I want to just stop and take some time to be thankful.

11105483096_d61fc93bff_nMy job is wrecking my head, but I’m grateful for it – it’s a source of provision that I haven’t had for a few years. To be able to pay the basic bills without worrying every month, is such a blessing after the last few years of living week to week for most of the time – thank you God for my job.

We have some issues with our flat AND  our landlord – but I’m grateful for this little haven. It’s a gorgeous little flat. Near to everyone we love and near enough to everywhere we need to be. We’ve been able to host a few fun evenings and dinners here. It’s perfect for us.

I did say I wouldn’t go on about how busy I am. but I AM busy! Lots of the things I have to do are great though. I love my writing, though I’m constantly playing catch up. Meself and himself have attended/taken some meetings at another church which has meant we’ve been going to two churches at the same time really. Will be able to give you the whys and wherefores of that soon, but it’s the best reason in the world to be busy. And though I miss Spirit Radio I still am able to give them a hand with some stuff, from across the water. I thank God for all the interesting things I have to do, as well as my full-time job – see #1 🙂

I seem to be ‘well’ at the moment. Only a short-term cold a few weeks ago, none of the autumn/winter lurgy that usually floors me this time of year. Emotionally, I feel positive, hopeful and excited about the future… as I said… more anon. It’s so nice to love Ireland but not be sad and pining for it; which I did a lot of when I lived here in Wales the last time. I feel really settled and happy to be living here.

Myself and himself, though a lot of our 15 years together have been difficult, we’re happier than we’ve ever been. I don’t shove that in anyone’s face, or feel any sense of superiority about it. I know lots of people who didn’t come out the other side of difficulties as we have; and I don’t take it for granted. But I am thankful.

I’m so grateful to you aswell. I’ve been a most unfaithful blogger, but you readers seem to be very supportive. I don’t have a big audience, but I do have a faithful one, so thanks for that. And thanks for reading my ramblings. I mean it! Thank you

There are some new things coming my way and they may even change the ‘theme’ of this blog – not that it ever had a theme. Not sure what will happen really. But right here and right now, I’m thankful to God for all I have and hoping in Him for all that is to come.

Can’t ask for much more than that really 🙂 x

photo credit: Sign via photopin (license)

Creative Christians in Wales


Last night I’d a great evening chatting to some of the Creative Christians in Wales group.

It was a small gathering in a coffee shop in Cardiff, chatting about set up and making some plans. The vision, though still in its formative stage, is to give creative believers an opportunity to share their art, network, encourage each other and pray together.

It’s not often I get to talk about my creative life, within the context of my faith in a Creator God. We talked about how we reflect that part of His nature, as creatives, and the hope that this group will give us more opportunity to do that. You know, I worried when I moved to the UK and lost direct contact with a lot of creative people I was connected with, that I would somehow lose out. This is not the first, but the greatest reassurance that won’t happen.

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The group on Facebook has artists, writers, poets, graphic designers, photographers, videographers, musicians, and at least one excellent deliverer of the spoken word. Jordan Sheehy… you must check her out.

It’s great to be part of such a group. Last night we discussed potential. There’s so many things the group could be and do. I’m excited to be involved at this early stage. Watch this space, as they say…

You don’t have tick all three boxes to get involved. It’s not an exclusive club. So if you’re a Christian, in Wales, interested in the arts then great, be sure to get in touch. However, if you only fall in to one or two of the categories, please do connect if you’d like to. There’s the Twitter feed, a Facebook page, and keep your eye out for a blog coming soon. It will showcase some of the artists and encourage discussion about faith and the arts.

Oh and in case you’re worried I’ve forgotten I’m Irish…. Lá Fhéile Padraig shona dhuit
(Happy St. Patrick’s Day) 🙂 x

Moving to the UK – it’s further than you think


small__8645846222The title of this blogpost will surely, one day, be the title of a book. I will write of how I took the 300 (ish) mile journey from Kildare, Ireland to Newport, South Wales – only to find that I might as well have come from the centre of a densely populated (but only by trees and macaws) jungle.

We have been here over a month and we are still filling out forms. Long forms, with tiny boxes, wanting nitty, not forgetting that gritty, information about who we are, where we have been and what emissions we are emitting into beautiful Welsh air; from our car, you understand.

We’ve gone through the job seekers allowance application twice since we got here (that must be some kind of record). We made the mistake of leaving the country for a few days, so had to close down the claim and reopen it. Having lived in the UK before, I have a UK National Insurance Number already. A huge relief, as I’m not sure there’s enough ink in my pen to fill in that form.

Job hunting has begun in earnest and there’s one application and impending interview that I’m very excited about. If you’re of the praying persuasion, do please pray for God’s will in that one.

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A selection of said forms…

I get that there have to be checks to make sure people are who they say they are. I’m happy to wait my turn in the dole office and actually BE a jobseeker to get Job Seekers Allowance. Having been an NHS patient before, I am REALLY grateful for the health service. It’s not perfect, and many may think it’s a shambles. In Ireland, you PAY for the shambles, so I’m happy to wait my turn in a doctor’s surgery here too… That reminds me; I must register with a doctor. (Note to self, buy another pen!)

I will make one complaint, that is the process of reregistering the car from Irish reg to UK reg. That is still not done, as the hurdles we have to jump would challenge Red Rum on his best day. As well as it being complicated, it has turned out to be very, VERY expensive. So if you’re considering importing your car from Ireland to the UK, my advice is… don’t. I’m not kidding; had I known, I’d have sold mine and taken the loss on the chin.

Having said all that we’re very happy to be here. Enjoying being back in Malpas Road Evangelical Church, and hopeful for the future.

My heart is in Ireland, always will be. Difference this time is, it’s not broken to be away from Ireland. Thanks God for that.

photo credit: amandabhslater via photopin cc