I must have been twelve or thirteen when I had my first prohibitive glimpse inside No. 1 Rutland Street. My father had told me to wait in the car as he delivered a case of whiskey and a gift of blinking black & white dogs. He had problems negotiating the heavy door so I held […]
Limerick Musings…Recovery
The annual summer visit to Limerick this year was marked by the turn of the key in the door of the house that is now the family home without my mother. I wrote about that feeling of absence many years ago, in a poem called Emptynest, on the death of my father, when we children […]