The Sea

The sea was cold today. But as always, invigorating. Once or twice, it has been so cold that my skin stings but thankfully today was not one of them. I let Buzz and Finn loose, and they were ecstatic. Whilst picking up Buzz’s poo from the pebble beach I had to pick up a few of the stones that it had landed on as he had done quite an effective stone smearing job.

It reminded me of a story when my brother, his wife and their young children went on a picnic to the beach. They had to scale a bit of a cliff to get down to the beach. At the end of the day, they packed up and headed back up the cliff to their car.

When my brother reached the car, he was perplexed as the backpack he was carrying was very heavy. Having eaten their picnic he had thought that there would be less weight to carry back up to the car.

He remarked to his wife’, Crikey,   what have you got in here? rocks?’. She didn’t reply as she was getting the children into the car. He asked her again. She peered over the roof of the car and said, ‘No, I don’t think so, have a look’. He opened the bag and it was full of rocks.

His beautiful wife was in stitches when she recounted this story to me.Just as she was on the day, she filled the bag with rocks.  My brother was able to laugh about it too but it may have taken a little time on the journey home for him to get the joke.


Poem Time


So little, so much

Gone in a touch

A joy to behold

One second, sold

Always taken

Forgotten soul awakening

The greatest gift

To heal a rift

Used to fear or love

You are enough

In this moment given once

Will you cower, or will you dance?

This moment has no limits

Will you reach your personal summit?


Adele Leahy


Poem Shelter

Over fifty homeless people have died so far this year. Two were found this week. Both men in their early 40’s. I saw three tents on Malahide beach last week. It is too sad.



Seek shelter

Away from the

Helter Skelter

Of my mind

Too often unkind

Meeting strangers

Asking for money

My pride is my badge

It’s just for tea

Not for drugs

Do you think I am a mug?

My cup does not runneth over

Am not in possession

Of a four-leaf clover

The luck of the Irish

My arse

My luck is a cardboard box

And food that is scarce

I don’t belong

In a world that does not care

That cannot distinguish

My pavement body

On the footpath

Do the math

Two euro to feed me

Don’t heed me

Look away


Am I worth?

Two euro

Or shall I wither?


Adele Leahy


I wrote this 8 years ago for the Dubai Irish Society annual when I was their chairperson.   At the time it was referencing the end of the recession that we were all experiencing. However, it seems to be just as relevant now.

Oh, and just so that I can manage your expectations.   My twitter bio says that I am a woeful poet and I try to maintain that standard at all times.


Covid Christmas 2020


Our country is kneeling at the altar

It’s promising to comply, to never again falter

The craic and the laughter seem to fade away

But the spirit of our country is only fleetingly held at bay

Our history and our courage will always stand us in good stead

Our love for our country is in our hearts and in our head

We have been through much worse with our heads held high

The love for my country brings a tear to my eye

The diaspora champion our country with their might charm and cheer

Reminding everybody why the Irish are held so dear

This challenge will not define us but will only increase our might

The spirit of our country is our burning brightest light


Adele Leahy



Covid Christmas, We got this



So, shall dis dancing (social distancing) be ok?

Or shall I move further away?

I want to gel with folks

Not buy hand gel and fear I croke

Must I buy a meal with my pint?

Can I not just drink and be ‘ag caint?’

Sesame Street’s’ Grover’ explains ‘near, far ‘

But I just want to drive forever in my car.

I am desperate for a hug

And a snog in a snug

We are good at our compliance

But I need some feckin romance

We’ll get through this but we have lost so many

We’ll light a candle for a euro, when once it was a penny

Santa is Covid safe and so are his crew

Even the naughty will get presents too

We will slay this virus and live free again

Once we have one another all our efforts are not in vain.


Adele Leahy


Sesame Street-Near, far (A fav of mine from when I was a kid.  And now, also.  To be honest, even more so now)






The Menopause Minx

Just because the youngsters have text short codes. Why can’t we?

 Menopause text short codes

HFF-Hot feckin flush

FBSC-Feeling bat shit crazy

HATB-Head about to burst

FIWHF -Feckin insomnia with hot flush


The menopause is rather undignified and relentless. Nobody escapes. My favorite symptoms are the sweats. Whenever I get them, I resemble Shrek in a sauna. I have reached a point of indifference as fretting just leads to more sweating. They say that men sweat and ladies’ glow. No shit Sherlock. I don’t so much glow as glare.

Menopause Blues

The frustration with the perspiration makes me feel flushed away.

 And my emotions in disarray.

I was going to write a poem about it but my hormonal and neurotic mind got in the way.

I am full of hot air and feeling the blues.

 It’s taking all of my energy not to blow a feckin fuse.



There, I feel better now, with that off my sweaty chest.   My menopause minx always knows best.

Where is The Menopause Minx, aka TMM, when I need her, eh? Could we please have her as a modern-day Superhero-Purleeasse.

She would be my ultimate superhero.    Blowing ice cold air onto me when I am mid hot flush.  Giving me extra strength to pull on my spanx when I have over indulged the day before?  Providing me with a somewhat rational mind when my emotions are off the Richter scale. I’m off now to blow that fuse I have been promising myself all day. I deserve it.


That’s all for now.

Have a great day.

Stay fab.



Homonym’s part 2


The Fair

(Homonym’s and Homograph- How many can you find?)

I was being fair in describing him as fair. Pat had skin that was almost translucent. He was Irish and I met him at the fair. He left me for a minute and returned with a minute ceramic leprechaun that he had won at a stall.

His friend Liam passed by and asked him to stall as they had had a row in the bar the night before. Apparently,they had stolen a boat that had no oars and therefore they had nothing to row with.

It turned out that the publican of their fav bar owned the boat and decided to bar them both. Pat wanted to finish the last drop of his drink but couldn’t as the publican punched him for stealing his boat. He showed me the wound by his ear and was fierce wound up by the assault.

Liam was looking for the Waltzer’s and Pat directed him towards them. We headed towards a tree and sat down. I told him that if he was looking for a shift (Irish slang for snog) that he was barking up the wrong tree.


That’s all for now.

Have a great day.

Stay fab.


Homonym’s part 1

Words that have double meanings have for some reason piqued my interest today.

As you can see in the picture a new statue has been erected in Dublin.  Only kidding, this is not Dublin, it is the US, but the picture made me smile. It is unashamedly gratuitous smut. Always guaranteed to put a twinkle in my eye.

The English language can be quite complex with many words that are spelt and sound the same yet having completely different meanings. Apparently, these are called homonym. Who knew, eh? not me.

And words that are spelt the same and sound different, with again, different meanings are called homographs. Such as ‘an ill wind’ and ‘wind down the window’.

I shall be having some fun over the next few days weaving many of these into a narrative just to mess with my head and get my neurons synapsing.

The word ‘bow’ fascinates me, in that it appears to have three different meanings and is both a homonym and a homograph. Now that’s what I call an identity crisis.

‘The girl adorned with a beautiful bow, knew that she would have to bow down in the presence of greatness whilst greeting the Chief at the bow of the boat. The desert trip had made her very thirsty and she was looking forward to a fine meal but in particular a luscious dessert as she had a sweet tooth’.

I take my hat off to anyone learning English as it is not easy.


That’s all for now.

Have a great day.

Stay fab.



Wry bread Ham sandwich

This afternoon I was rinsing my swimming shoes in the kitchen sink to remove the sand from an earlier swim.  The sea was freezing but still refreshing.  I had always harbored (excuse the dreadful pun- pun therapy continues, but is largely unsuccessful) the notion that if you swim fast enough and for long enough- in my case about 10 mins- that you will stave off the cold and warm up. It is not true as the sea is still feckin freezing.

As I am new to sea swimming in the winter, I have convinced myself that I am burning more calories by being so cold. Buzz and Finn were at my ankles looking for treats. I inadvertently knocked a bowl containing a cooked ham joint which was cooling by the sink directly into the sink. I placed it on the cooker to be safe. Silently I said ‘Whew’.

Hunger got the best of me following my swim. I was looking forward to a ham sandwich with lovely fresh rye bread that I had bought from a new bakery that had opened. There was no mustard and I began to look for mustard powder. Finally, I found the mustard powder and in retrieving it from the cupboard knocked the ham off the cooker to the ground.

Things for me happens in threes – good and bad -. I have figured that I now probably manifest this in that it has become a self-fulfilling prophecy. Buzz and Finn went feral on a ham fest. I did manage to rescue some from the floor and rinsed it in the sink, using the 30 second rule. I made my sandwich, got my apple- which I then dropped, therefore fulfilling my rule of three’s.

I sat down and took a big bite of my ham sandwich on rye and smiled wryly. It had sand in it.  From when it had fallen to the floor in the kitchen. I had always wondered where the phrase had come from and now at last, I understood.

I can’t say I was thrilled at the revelation as the sand gritted my teeth removing part of a filling. But there you go. I have since enlightened myself by learning that the sandwich is named after the 4th Earl of Sandwich-John Montagu who needed a handy meal without forks whilst playing cribbage.

That’s all for now.

Have a great day.

Stay fab.




War of the Worlds

The other morning, I overheard somebody playing Jeff Wayne ‘War of the Worlds’ in one of the apartments nearby. Richard Burton was narrating. His voice makes me melt. My windows were closed at the time so the volume was obviously quite high. It was quite apocalyptic. Particularly as I had been singing ‘Oh what a beautiful morning’ from the Oklahoma musical as I made my breakfast. I had looked it up on YouTube to remind myself of the lyrics to the second verse. Which, by the way, are quite beautiful and rather poetic. Here is the link to ‘Oh what a beautiful morning.’

I smiled wryly at the juxtaposition in that if it was going to be the end of the world, at least I was having a lovely morning. I remembered where and when I was when I first heard War of the Worlds.    I must have been about 12 when my brother came back from his world travels whilst working in the Navy.

He brought back so many cassette tapes which he had bought for fifty pence each in South Africa.  Everything from ELO, to Blondie, Peter Gabriel, Queen, Super Tramp and War of The Worlds by Jeff Wayne. He also had a huge Hitachi boom box with massive headphones. loved going to sleep with the headphones on listening to this track. To this day my brother’s musical selection has informed my musical taste.

For the last week I have not been able to get the song ‘Oh, what a beautiful morning’ out of my mind. Considering I have not heard it in decades. Anyhoo, tonight on   ‘I’m a celebrity get me out of here’,   guess what happened?    Russell Watson burst into song, singing, none other than ‘Oh, what a beautiful morning’. There are 97 million songs in the world.   Well, at least, there was the last time I counted them. And there was I singing a rather random one from a movie called ‘Oklahoma’ made 65 years ago. And apparently so was Russell.

So, I am inclined to favor that tomorrow will be a beautiful morning and possibly not the end of the world. I must apologize as I believe I may have incorrectly counted the number of songs in the world.   The number may be in the region of 98 million. I’m off to count them again and I will get back to you.

That’s all for now.

Have a great day.

Stay fab.


Gicky shoes

I had to buy Buzz and Finn new coats as I got them groomed too tight and they were cold. I know, duh!    What was I thinking when I knew the winter was coming? I can only call it a brain fart moment to be honest. I have them every so often.

Buzz was not impressed at all with his. He was so unimpressed he was refusing to go for a walk.    He stood outside my door and looked at me as if to say ‘Really are you serious? You expect me to go walking in this? Don’t you realize that I have a reputation to uphold? ‘. Anyhoo he finally relented and decided to enjoy the walk as he realized that it was contingent on him wearing his new raincoat.

As a young child I had knock knees and my mum forced me to wear disgusting brown orthotic shoes.  Quite similar to the ones in the picture. I was uber defiant and kept saying that they looked like lumps of ‘Gick’ on my feet and I wouldn’t be seen dead in them. ‘Gick’ is the Irish slang for a poo.

My mam had to give up in the end as (like Buzz) I was stubborn.    Anyhoo, I got my way and to this day I have perfect knock knees.  Serves me right for being such a defiant little minx.

That’s all for now.

Have a great day.

Stay fab.