Last night felt like peak summer in New England.
First we had this.
Then this.
Then this.


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Last night felt like peak summer in New England.
First we had this.
Then this.
Then this.


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Is anyone else stumped when they have to choose their eye color for an official document like their REAL ID/Drivers License?
Last time I chose Hazel, but I really don’t think that was right.

The Massachusetts choices are: Black, Brown, Gray, Hazel, Pink, Blue, Dichromatic, Green, Maroon, and Unknown.

Maybe Gray is the closest?

Or basic Blue?
But definitely not Hazel, right? I think I messed up picking Hazel.
It’s not a big deal, but I think this may be the type of thing that concerns me more now that I feel like our country is descending into authoritarianism. In movies, Nazis are always asking people for their papers, Are my papers in order?
Free Gift Article from the NYT
Excerpt: Belarus is a warning that democracy is fragile and that authoritarianism is not a wrecking ball but a hatchet, which slowly chips away until everything is broken beyond recognition.
I just turned my house upside down looking for our “America the Beautiful” National Parks Annual Senior Pass that we bought last year to go to Yellowstone and Grand Tetons. It lets people 62+ get a whole car full of people into any national park for free. (It only costs $20, if you buy it in person.)
Good news! I found our pass in my husband’s wallet, even though he checked there himself. (Senior citizens cannot be trusted in these matters!) And even better, it’s good through September 30. So, I can book a post-Labor Day trip to one of our great national parks. I basically have to, right? I can’t let that Senior Pass go to waste!
I thought about Yosemite, because it’s such a wildly popular national park, especially for international travelers, but that’s a big commitment for people from the East Coast.
So, the national park I’ve most wanted to return to for many years (I haven’t been there since 1976) and that my husband has never been to is….
Drumroll
In the great state of Maine.
I’m going through my Bucket List so fast you guys. I’ll be good to kick it by the time I’m 65. 😉

My parents have traveled a lot. They’ve been to many countries and seen many things. And one thing I’ve noticed is that they’ve forgotten quite a few specifics of late. I’m not blaming them (they’re pretty darn old), but I’d like to not forget as much as possible.
Typically, I take photos of signs or menus to remember where I was, but now our phones tell us exactly where each pic was taken (which is handy).
In any case, this post is mostly for me, like a diary. And possibly for my kids or grandkids who may someday wonder where exactly we went in Ireland on that trip we took back in 2025.





































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Lo and behold, I’m able to answer today’s daily prompt! (Typically I see a message saying that I have already answered the daily prompt, as I’ve been blogging regularly for well over a year now.)
How do you waste the most time every day?
The big news is that I started this blog when I turned 50 and named it accordingly, but the seasons…they go round and round…and now I’m 60.
And, I’m still wasting far too much time looking at social media. I’ve even added TikTok to my repertoire. Oy.
But here’s what I’m going to try to stop wasting so much time on this decade: controlling situations and worrying about outcomes. I’m really REALLY going to try to live in the moment more. I want to enjoy my life.
Stephanie’s terrific response about worry reminded me that just recognizing when you’re fretting is a step in the right direction.
From the moment we get a positive pregnancy test to the day we die, moms will worry about their kids, but the active “molding” phase of that job is over for me. I can relax. I’ve told my kids everything I think they should know. We got them all the shots, hosted all the birthday parties, went to all the games, helped with all the homework, paid all the tuition bills. We did good! If I die tomorrow, they will be fine.
So, as a first step, here’s three things I enjoyed recently:
Final thought: hating DJT and everything he represents and does has been a pretty major feature of the past ten years for me. In order to enjoy my life more, I need to somehow let that go a bit. My feeling is that maybe by staying involved in my church (which is full of activists), I can feel like I’m doing something without letting the political situation make me feel hopeless. Would love any tips that other like-minded people may have about this.

On our last full day in Ireland, we figured out how to take a commuter train from Connolly Station in Dublin to Drogheda (about 45 minutes away) and then grabbed a cab to the Brú na Bóinne Visitor Center—commonly referred to as “Newgrange.”
Brú na Bóinne is one of the world’s most important prehistoric archaeological sites. Older than both the pyramids and Stonehenge, it’s home to the massive passage tombs of Newgrange, Knowth, and Dowth. With advance tickets, you can tour Knowth and Newgrange with a guide.






You can ascend to the top of the largest mound at Knowth and actually go inside the Newgrange tomb through a narrow, rocky passageway to experience this 5,000 year old sacred space which was engineered with astonishing precision to align with the solstice sun, when it miraculously lights the inner burial chamber.

It’s a surreal feeling to stand in an underground chamber built by humans 5,000 years ago. At one point, the guide extinguished all light in the tomb, submerging the chamber into pitch blackness, and then demonstrated with an artificial light how the chamber lights up (for about 17 minutes) on the winter solstice.





It is believed that the passage tombs of Brú na Bóinne were Stone Age burial sites for high-status individuals, where cremated human remains were placed in stone basins within the chambers. These tombs reflect a Neolithic belief system centered on death, ancestor worship, and a deep reverence for cosmic cycles—especially the sun.
In addition to human remains, archaeologists have found animal bones—including those of cattle, birds, and dogs. It is thought they had ritual significance, possibly as offerings or symbolic companions in the afterlife, reflecting complex spiritual beliefs that linked humans, animals, and the natural world.
Pre-Christianity is fascinating, right?? Because nobody really knows what they believed or were actually thinking! What do you think?
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After Kilkenny, it was onwards to Dublin—the great capital city of the Republic of Ireland. We approached Dublin from the south, which was described as the “posh” side of town.
After a lovely lunch surrounded by ancient giant trees at The Fern House (and quick shopping in the attached Avoca store), we headed to the city for something completely different— a moving tour of Kilmainham Gaol.


This historic prison is a powerful symbol of Irish nationalism, as it held many leaders of Ireland’s rebellions, including the 14 men executed after the 1916 Easter Rising. (On the way to the prison, the guide played Rod Stewart’s beautiful song Grace about Joseph Plunkett—one of the 14 rebellion leaders—who was allowed to marry his childhood sweetheart Grace shortly before his execution.)

The next morning, the sun came out and we did a walking tour and saw many of the city’s iconic sites:



Meanwhile, my son John (who had been in Sweden for work) joined us in Dublin, which was fantastic. It was so great to spend time with him!

We did several more museums with him, including EPIC (the Irish Emigration Museum) and the National Museum of Archeology. We also went to many pubs, stores and even a sold-out comedy show, where we were the only Americans and the comedians knew it. 🤣 (They did not hold back on the Trump jokes, which was awesome.)

And NOW, if you’re still reading, here’s the most amazing thing that happened in Dublin. You may remember that this trip was inspired, in part, by my Irish roots. Thanks to my mother’s extensive genealogy research, I have a lot of information about my great grandmother’s family, including the names and addresses of her parents—and their parents.
One night we walked by the address of the home where my great grandmother’s mother grew up and believe it or not, her father’s name is STILL on the door: Beverly Smyth.



I also found the church where my grandfather’s maternal grandparents got married in 1879:

And of course, I went inside the church too, because I’m like that!



I had two other Dublin addresses for the Barrys, but did not have time to see them when I was there, so I’ll have to go back.
But the bottom line is: I’m a DUBLINER people. My people were city folk. They were not digging potatoes in County Cork. So the next time I go to the Dubliner bar in Boston, I’ll know I belong.

It really is in a prime city location and currently up for rent! Here’s the street it’s on:

According to the realtor, the “Beverly Smyth & Sons” nameplate can never be removed because the property is on Dublin’s list of protected properties. So maybe someday my granddaughter will visit Dublin and see her great x5 grandparents’ home.
FINAL THOUGHT: we have far too many Johns and Marys in the family tree (on both the Irish and Italian sides). Giving your kids unique first names will help future generations keep it all straight. 😜
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I got back Monday night from Ireland and it was a really great trip, though I did end up testing positive for Covid on Tuesday. I don’t feel too bad…just a slight sore throat and some coughing (no fever). (I am fully vaccinated.) I will be wearing a mask when out until next week and I’ve moved into the guest room, so my husband hopefully doesn’t get it.
I have too many pictures! After leaving the stunning Dingle Peninsula, we went to Kilkenny by way of the adorable thatched roof village of Adare and the iconic Rock of Cashel:











After leaving Kilkenny, we went to Glendalough—a monastic site in County Wicklow, founded in the 6th century by St. Kevin. The weather was very misty/rainy that day, but I thought it added to the ancient mystique of the place.




Next: Dublin
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A cat outside my window has awoken me early here in the westernmost part of Europe—the Dingle peninsula.
I’ve officially turned sixty and it’s OK!
I had two shots of Bailey’s before ascending the iconic Cliffs of Moher. Highly recommend.

The sun came out yesterday and it was spectacular.



I’ve been to at least four pubs and had my first Guinness, which I liked. (I got a half pint, which you can do.) I’ve learned I do not like straight whisky.
Music abounds.

They have free healthcare and college here! And I have not seen a single American chain—no Starbucks, no Dunkin, no McDonald’s. Weed is illegal here. So…🍻!

Sláinte!
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As of today, May 31, 2025, Greater Boston is experiencing its 12th consecutive rainy weekend. Since early March, every weekend has included some measurable rainfall, with more than half of those weekends seeing rain on both Saturday and Sunday.
GenX, there are a couple of rain songs from our childhood that will never leave my brain.
The first is “Rainy Days and Mondays” by The Carpenters. It came out in 1971.
The other one is “Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head” by BJ Thomas. (I didn’t know the artist. I looked it up just now.) It came out in 1969, so perhaps only older GenXers like me remember this one. Apparently it was featured in the movie “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid,” but I don’t remember that. I just remember singing the song along with the radio, with the most memorable line being “Just like the guy whose feet are too big for his bed.” I always pictured that guy. His feet must have been enormous.
What are your rain songs? You know—those songs that just emerge in your brain on rainy days.