That’s what the conflict in Northern Ireland has been called for generations. We’ve been told that everything is fine now. The violence has ceased and both sides, Irish Catholics and English Protestants, are getting along fine.
Our taxi driver painted a slightly different picture.
While visiting my daughter during her term abroad in Ireland, we got to meet some of her new friends. These people, from Germany and Finland (and a couple from Australia), are helping her out so much, we decided to pay them back with silly American gifts.
Every 18 months I have the ultimate pleasure of volunteering at a blood and marrow transplant conference. I’ve written about these conferences in the past, saying “These are my people.” This year, in particular, I felt that way even more acutely.
First, there were all those people checking out my book, which was just a thrill.
There was golfing on our “mancation,” our vacation designed specifically to do guy things. There was also batting practice in random fields we found along the way. Sure, there was a little gambling and an impossibly large basket of bacon that we left half-finished on the table. But the whole stated reason for our trip was to visit Minor League baseball fields around the state and in Ohio.
Sometimes I simply love being a freelance writer and photographer. This past week was one of those times.
A large company in Southeast Michigan hired me to travel around photographing people, towns and neighborhoods in and about Detroit for the sole purpose of putting them in a brochure to attract potential employees.
Go see The Fault In Our Stars.
I can’t be any more direct than that. You’ve probably heard about the movie, based on the massively best-selling John Green book of the same title. It centers around Hazel and Gus, two whip-smart teens who are both dealing with cancer. Yes, it’s a Young Adult story supposedly, but you’ll love it if you’re 90.