-
Recent Posts
Archives
- September 2025
- July 2019
- August 2018
- June 2018
- January 2018
- December 2017
- November 2017
- June 2017
- May 2017
- February 2017
- October 2016
- September 2016
- April 2016
- March 2016
- February 2016
- December 2015
- October 2015
- September 2015
- July 2015
- June 2015
- May 2015
- April 2015
- March 2015
- February 2015
- January 2015
- December 2014
- November 2014
- October 2014
- September 2014
- June 2014
- May 2014
- April 2014
- March 2014
- February 2014
- January 2014
- December 2013
- November 2013
- October 2013
- September 2013
- August 2013
- July 2013
- June 2013
- May 2013
- April 2013
- March 2013
- February 2013
- January 2013
- December 2012
- November 2012
- October 2012
- September 2012
- August 2012
-
Blogroll
- My Pinterest Page: Some images
- Divilthebit
- Belfast Stories
- The Incubator Literary Journal of new Irish writing
- c.r.o.w – City Right of Way
- Roxana Manouchehri
- Roadside Fiction: New Realist Fiction.
- Maria McManus Poetry and Prose
- Slowly Downward
- Jason O'Rourke
- Madagán: Traditional Irish music and song from Belfast
- TypeWright Editing Services
- Aisling O'Beirn Artist
- Vernacularisms Gaeilge
Click these links to make me a fortune
Recent Comments
Tobin Catherine on Thought for the day jasonoruairc on Where be the Blackbird? marymulrine on Where be the Blackbird? artisannbelfast on Thought for the day jasonoruairc on Thought for the day Top 5 Clicks
- None
Tag Archives: Belfast
Well Raised
Aunt Amelia’s Wheaten Bread I’ll always associate the smell of this freshly-baked wheaten bread with my Aunt Amelia’s house in the countryside near Portadown. She was a dedicated baker, and made bread or scones every day. I have many fond … Continue reading
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged Belfast, Buttermilk, Childhood memories, Countryside, Golden Syrup, humour, Jason O'Rourke, Literature, Portadown, Range, Sacred Heart, short story, Tea, Wheaten Bread Recipe, writing
8 Comments
Chadwick at Large, Part 2.
*** Part 2 will make better sense if you’ve read part 1. You can read it here. *** 31st August, 2013. My Dear Readers, I have gone to the dogs! Yes, it’s true. I have, quite simply, let myself go … Continue reading
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged Aintree, Belfast, Bodhrán, bones, buail an craiceann, burgundy, Celts, Cheltenham, Chilean wine, Cockneys, Cromwell, Donegal, Downpatrick races, Edgar Wankel, flat caps, G&T, Gaelic, gambling, greyhound racing, Guinness, Gullible, humour, Irish Music, Jason O'Rourke, Kinder Surprise, Literature, Mayo, merlot, Munchen, Oktoberfest, short story, Skol, Spoon-players, Sport of KIngs, The Silence of the Lambs, Westport, whiskey, WPLongform, writing
3 Comments
You are my Sunshine (200-word original version)
It‘s a spring morning, and I’m getting dressed. I always keep the bedroom curtains closed, and today there’s a beam of sunlight coming through the gap. I pull a scarf from the drawer, and dust particles fly up, illuminated in … Continue reading
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged Belfast, dead children, fear, ghost story, guilt, Jason O'Rourke, Literature, secret police, short story, writing
Leave a comment
You are my Sunshine
It‘s a beautiful spring morning, and I’m in the gloom of the bedroom getting dressed. The rest of the house is flooded with light; the large windows give uninterrupted views of Rugby Road and the Botanic Gardens; fresh budding trees, … Continue reading
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged 1973, Augusto Pinochet, Belfast, Botanic Gardens, Chile, Communists, denouncing neighbours, emigration, ghost story, guilt, infanticide, Jason O'Rourke, limbo, Literature, Military Coup, murder, Ormeau Road, Rugby Road, secret police, short story, Trade Unionists, Witch Hazel, writing
6 Comments
A New Direction, Part 2.
I recommend that you read Part 1 first, if you haven’t already. It’s here. ~~~ The next morning Davy woke up early. This wasn’t unusual; in fact it had been happening more often over the past few months. He put … Continue reading
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged 2008, A New Direction, A2, Antrim, beach, Belfast, Black Cave Tunnel, bosses, Buzzwords, Carrickfergus, Coast Road, Cushendun, dehumanisation, diary management, Donegal, Down, drones, Financial Crisis, Financial Services, flirting, Fortwilliam, Gandhi's flip flop, Gaoth Dobhair, Glens of Antrim, Gweedore, humour, Jason O'Rourke, Larne, lead generation, Lehman Brothers, Life Insurance, Literature, love, M2, M3, M5, management, Northern Ireland, Part 2, sales targets, Satnav, short story, slaves, South Belfast, stress, Ulster Fry, Working Smarter, WPLongform, writing
2 Comments
Chadwick at Large.
26th July, 2013 My Dear Readers, I have come across an unusual discovery, which I would like to share with you. As you know from reading my column, I am a familiar figure at Belfast’s auction houses, and (although I … Continue reading
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged Anderson's Auctions, Anthropology, baldness, Basel, Belfast, diet, Flann O'Brien, German, Gunter Grass, Heidelberg, humour, Ich bin ein Berliner, Irish flute, Irish Music, Jason O'Rourke, Joyce, Koln, Literature, Miltown Malbay, Nietzsche, Roscommon, rotary engine, short story, Sliabh Luachra, Switzerland, Wankel, water quality, Willie Clancy, WPLongform, writing, Yeats
17 Comments
A New Direction, Part 1
Davy Smyth’s life-changing event occurred at 3.27 p.m. on April 6th, 2012. He was late for his appointment, tired and irritable. He’d been on the road for nearly an hour already, and the journey should have only taken forty minutes. … Continue reading
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged Ballycastle, Ballymena, Belfast, Boreen, Chicken with Black Bean Sauce, Contour lines, Cromac Street, Donegal, Easter, Egg Noodles, Errigle, Fiddle music, First World War, Gaoth Dobhair, Gasworks, Go Ahead, GPS, humour, Insurance, Jason O'Rourke, Literature, love, Madonna, Market, Ormeau Road, Radio 4, Rainbow, Rock Music, romance, Satnav, Shiraz, short story, Tank Warfare, Turf, U-Turn, Whitesnake, WPLongform, writing
6 Comments
The Ten Commandments
I am Belfast City Council’s Health and Environmental Services Department. Thou shalt have no other wheeled bin. Thou shalt not use substitute receptacles. Except thy recycling bin(s), and they shall be used for the appropriate materials only. Thou shalt not … Continue reading
La Savante
The view from the field is spectacular. Behind us rises the mountain, Round Seefin: domed, treeless, majestic. At the very top it is grey with scree, descending into dark brown scrubby heather, and then green patches of grass dotted with … Continue reading
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged Belfast, camping, Co. Down, happiness, Jason O'Rourke, joy, Literature, Mourne Mountains, pain, Round Seefin, Savant, Savante, short story, sorrow, Whin, writing
14 Comments
Vernacularisms 