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View My Stats From Bath to Cork with Baby Grace :: August :: 2007
Depression & HealthAugust 31, 2007 11:07 pm

Again I realise how wonderful Google Alert is.

In response to my ‘alert’ for Depression, this evening I find a blog from Tennessee which is inspired by the story of what’s happened Owen Wilson.  I find out that he’s a Hollywood star, that he’s in deep trouble.

Newscoma writes:

"People get depressed. And sometimes, its unbearable. And sometimes, it gets so bad, they do drastic things.

Even famous funny people.

I’ve thought a lot about this situation this week. It’s been rolling around in my mind. The thing is, do we hear when people call for help? Are we intuitive enough to realize when someone is in a dangerous place?"

I think that’s a marvellous phrase "are we intuitive enough…?" 

Comments make a great difference to a blog 

On the blog I read many comments from people who have experienced depression and the struggle to keep going.  It gets me to write my own comment. And I feel better for expressing myself and sending a greeting from Cork.

The thought of connecting with a stranger, across the sea and soil, from Cork to Tennessee… 

Uncategorized, Children, Blogging & MediaAugust 30, 2007 5:32 pm

And I’m still debating whether I’ll post a photo of her.

What do you think?

Should I respect her ‘right’ to silence, her ‘right’ to control her own image?

I don’t find this an easy one. 

But this could be anyone, even an old one of OMani.

 

Depression & Health 4:46 pm

Thanks to

I found this positive approach to the benefits of depression from the west coast of America :

 "In his book, The Wisdom of Depression: A Guide to Understanding and Curing Depression Using Natural Medicine, Jonathan Zuess, M.D., writes:

"Depression is a quest for vision; its essence is transformation. Depression wells up and encompasses us for a time in a state of painful, dream-saturated formlessness, but its true purpose is to provide the opportunity for healing insight, renewal, and reintegration…"

"Depression is one of the basic responses of human beings, produced when we encounter a difficult emotional challenge…it is a natural and healthy response, and is actually specifically designed to help us deal with problems. It only becomes an illness if something goes badly wrong."

 

I wonder what that last phrase "It only becomes an illness if something goes badly wrong." means?

 

How many Irish people are writing on depression? 

When I set up a Google Alert for ‘depression’ I expected it would pick up at least ten blogs that used the word ‘depression’ in posts.  But each day I see about four blogs that contain the word and some of them are about the economy. This has made me think about where a person suffering from depression, looking to see what others were experiencing and how they were coping, would look.

Given the frequency of depression, and the number of people who recover from it, I expected more. 

I would like to open the page of this blog to anyone who would like to write about this, especially if you have experience of supporting someone through the experience. 

 

Poetry, Art & Science, Work & PlayAugust 29, 2007 4:47 pm

Yesterday’s Irish Times had a wonderful set of photographs by Joe OShaughessy, of a man harvesting seaweed.

Lorna Siggins wrote a fine portrait of "Johnai Dubh" (Johnny Clochartaigh), with a description of the work and its commercial context.  Words like ‘climin‘ (a bale of seaweed), ‘feamainn bhui‘ (a type of seaweed,ascophyllum nodosum), ‘Arramara Teo‘ (a state-sponsored seaweed processing-manufacturing ‘factory’ operation that has been running for 60 years), ‘spiteanna feamaine‘ (the right to harvest seaweed)…

There is a shortage of skilled harvesters of seaweed in Ireland.  And a market in Japan for seaweed as an animal-feed supplement.

Why am I so interested in seaweed? 

I guess it’s iconic of my childhood by the sea in Clare. Also, a few years ago, I saw my first seaweed lorry on the road near Roundstone and wrote this poem:

The Seaweed Lorry

How long have I driven the seaweed lorry to Roundstone,

past fuchsia and montbretia?

How long’s the wife practised acupuncture?

My fairest daughter washed the dishes? 

You’d wonder as you pitchfork algae,

watch bits slip off and litter the roads.

They can take their time,

wait their turn to pass.

 

I have many more journeys in me,

many more days going before hearse and caravan.

They can all take their turn

- why should they pass?

I’ve driven this road too long now,

seen their urgent ways,

refused to be edged off my road.

There were houses full

- not enough room for the children -

before there weren’t enough children for the rooms.

I’ve seen them all off,

and still gone back for more seaweed. 

[ Paul O’Mahony, Vital Poems, a self-published collection, 2002] 

 

Maybe it was Johnai Dubh driving that lorry? 

Depression & Health, Poetry, Art & ScienceAugust 28, 2007 8:25 am

Thanks to Google Alert I found this blog in which the author writes about her experience of living with bipolar and the rest of her life.  Looks like she’s a photographer and a writer.

 Looks good.  If I wasn’t rushing to work, I’d write a review.

 

Poetry, Art & ScienceAugust 26, 2007 11:57 pm

"The rain in Clare

is mainly what you wear…" 

Depression & Health, Blogging & MediaAugust 22, 2007 2:26 pm

On Monday The Irish Times published John Waters on depression.

There are many aspects of his piece I find confused, confusing and too showy for its own good. 

I thought about writing a critique.  Then I stumbled across a blog I’d never read:

One of the authors of the blog, Worldbystorm, has written a critique. I didn’t find the post easy to read or follow.  I sent a Comment.

But I was encouraged:

(1) Waters has provoked a response and that’s his role: poor articles can lead to good thinking

(2) This, self-styled, left-wing political blog (The Cedar Lounge Revolution ) has taken depression seriously: I think we need to promote understanding of depression and that will only come through debate and experience.

I added The Cedar Lounge Revolution to my RSS Google Reader.

Depression & Health, Poetry, Art & Science 11:31 am

My friend ‘Garfield’ and I took coffee in Douglas shopping centre this morning.

He’s got into Steinbeck.

I asked him which character in ‘Of Mice and Men‘ he identified with?

He got all slippery, like a politician, and avoided answering.

I must read that book again…

Who do you identify with? 

Poetry, Art & Science, Work & Play, Blogging & Media 6:38 am

I am about to write something for the blog.

I am just after pouring boiling water into a cup. Inside the mug, a sachet of Yogi Tee (’Lakritz Egyptian Spice Ayurvedic spice blend - no black tea’), and I haven’t had one of these for ages. I am locked in the act of composing a summary of what I plan to write. Juggling with names of emotions (like admiration, jealousy, envy, frustration, confusion) and the names of people (like Blank Paige, Dave Snowden, John Walters, Fintan O’Toole, Annette Clancy), I feel the focus narrow and become clearer. I have the sense of being almost ready. Best to leave the bag in the cup a bit longer, to gain more from the infusion. Take time and all will be ready. It is beautifully quiet in the house…

I boot up the laptop. 

Instead of rushing to write, I look to see whether there have been any ‘Comments’. I so yearn for ‘comments’ that I let the distraction of wanting get in the way of giving. Curiosity gets the better of me. Without warning my life is thrown into fresh direction.

There is a comment from Bernard Leddy.  I’d forgotten he existed. My memory is so delicate that the only way I know I met him on a train is that there is written evidence. Bernard Leddy is the organiser of the Lismore Festival of Travel Writing. Because he is, I write about today’s blog as if it were a travelling.  I have fantasies you see.

Why has Bernard followed me up?

I have no way of knowing, so I’ve asked him if he’d mind telling me what is in his mind. You see, it is a good thing to talk to strangers when you are out and about. There will be a day when a stranger will come back to you with treasure.  Will take your hand and guide you across your bog, your steppe, your waterway or whatever field of operation you happen to be on.

Whatever it was I was going to write before the cup of licorice waits for another turn.  It’ll come round. 

Meanwhile there is new colour on the block. 

Depression & Health, Poetry, Art & Science, Work & Play, Children, Blogging & Media, Customer serviceAugust 21, 2007 2:18 pm

I’m about to move house from one side of the river to the other.

We three are moving. 

To Glanmire, a suburb of Cork...

To Glanmire where a psychiatric hospital has just discovered its water supply has e-coli. But the local community outside the hospital grounds has been assured their supply is OK.

Today, in The Irish Times, Lorna Siggins reports that the water in Galway city is safe to drink. It is no longer necessary to boil the tap water.

I wrote before about how horrified and disappointed I was at the lack of public protest in Galway.  So there is no point in repeating that.  However, I continue to be bothered by how dodgy the water is.

According to the Health Service Executive (HSE) a "small number" of those who got ill from the water ‘may continue to suffer from the condition indefinitely.

Indefinitely. 

It was "too early" to say whether those with long-term infections - including young children - would develop chronic conditions such as liver damage…’ 

I didn’t realise people could suffer liver damage from the water. 

I thought the worst they could get was a nasty bout of vomitting and diarrhoea. Permanent liver damage is a different matter.

I wonder what the water quality will be like in Glanmire?  I should probably be wondering about the water we’ve been drinking on the south side since October 2005, when we came to Cork. 

The house move is building up on me.

I feel surrounded by loads of issues and people on whom I’m dependent.  Plummers, tilers, carpenters, electricians, the man who’s going to lay two floors, the one who’s building a bookcase for my office, the woman who helping the Wiffe find furnishings, the one who promised to find me a couple of big stones for the front garden, the man who’s in charge of moving our container from storage in UK to Glanmire, the bank, the solicitor, the life assurance company…

This is complex, exciting and challenging.  I think I better write my way through it, rather than bottling it up. [That’s why this is called ‘House move to Glanmire (1)’]

This is scary.  There might be tension in the house over the next couple of months. 

Work & Play, Children, Customer serviceAugust 20, 2007 5:51 am

This is a new hotel.

The last time I saw it, it was a building site.  The old hotel was being replaced by a modern everything. I remember being sceptical and bothered about the passing away of character, the homogenisation West Cork.  

On Saturday morning, the weather was so dense on the road out of Cork that we nearly turned back. What was the point of going west to Schull if you couldn’t see it?

Fortunately it cleared up. We even went on the boat to Cape Clear Island for the afternoon.  But I’ll leave the story of how ill the Wiffe was on the boat to another time.

 

 

This is going to be about food and an extraordinary young man. (I never found out his name.)

Fresh from the sea spray, Grace, Wiffe and I went eating in the Harbour View hotel bar.  Saturday evening, each had an appetite. We ordered: hamburger & chips, butternut squash risotto, Guinness & beef pie, apple juice, half bottle of Fleurie, and a pint of Guinness.

Food review

Grace’s first hamburger was tasteless, according to the Wiffe…  There was enough risotto for three people: too wet and the flavour shallow. But it was the pie that caused the drama. Enormous, well presented (a circle of pastry beautifully browned sitting on top of a bowl fit for Paul O’Connell), and tough.

The flavour was good.  The meat was good.  All it needed was about two hours more cooking to soften it up. We gave the meal a good talking. We speculated about the kitchen. So when the young man, who’d welcomed us to the table with flourish and impressive warmth, came by and asked ‘How is everything?’, I gave it to him.

I didn’t want to damn the kitchen. My guess was that the cook was fresh out of catering school, and in a hurry: the pie was late on the stove. My hypothesis was that the kitchen had ambition and promise: it was not a lost cause. I might return because I’d been impressed with how clean everything was, and the enormous bed in our room.

With understatement I said what I thought of the pie (the Wiffe said nothing about her risotto; I knew she’d leave most of it). He looked about 23 and listened.  He offered to bring me another. I smiled as if that was a bit of a joke (but, the meat would have been a bit more tender, so he was right to offer, and I was wrong to decline).

The shock 

Five minutes later he brought the bill.  He charged me nothing for the pie. Nothing.  A 100% discount. As if you get your money back unless you are fully satisfied.

I felt overwhelmed. This is not typical of my experience in Ireland. It felt exceptional and impressive. I almost insisted he take something for the meal - after all, there was some good body, flavour and presentation.  Instead I did my best to give him complete & balanced feedback, including the suggestion that the portion would be more attractive if it were smaller. The chef might learn from the comments. I wanted to return to find out.  By giving a refund he ensured I’d be back.

When it comes to food, it is easy to avoid the place in future. Businesses lose customers without ever knowing why. Customer feedback is what drives continuous improvement, I say.

Lesson learned 

But, if you go to Schull, stay in the Harbour View Hotel,  with its fine swimming pool, gym (unsampled), sauna & steam room. Eat in the bar, and let me know if the beef pie has improved. That young man inspired me with confidence; I bet it’ll be much better.

 

Poetry, Art & ScienceAugust 19, 2007 9:13 pm

We were in Schull for the weekend and were lucky enough to find this going on…

 

There was some wonderful art…

 

 and

 

 

even…

 

 

and you can see the whole, official, programme here. 

Depression & Health, Poetry, Art & Science, Work & Play, Children, Blogging & MediaAugust 17, 2007 9:37 am

Blogging takes time.

Anything that takes time is involved in a struggle for space… and a boundary.

I’ve found a wonderful post on Problogger. It’s helped me think about what I’m doing blogging and how it finds a place in my life.  The post is a response to  Robert Scoble’s blog called Things on my mind…

See what you think of it … 

 

Depression & Health, Politics, Work & Play 8:55 am

	
"There is a boundary to men’s passions when they act from feelings; but
none when they are under the influence of imagination."

*** Edmund Burke ***

 
My thanks to Dave Gurteen for this quote.
 
When I read it I thought of InterActions, Annette Clancy’s business blog, where she wages a noble fight for the cause of emotions in working life. 
 
This is not to say Annette would agree with Edmund Burke.  Perhaps she would; perhaps she wouldn’t. Sometimes people pop into my mind.
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