Greetings & Blessings to all
To all the mas, moms, mommys, mamas, mammys mommas, mums, mummys, mams and maters out there:
Beannachtai lá na mathair do gach einne!
Welcome to our May edition. We hope it finds you and yours in good spirits, good company and good health - especially good health!
On our end, we think it appropriate to quote T. S. Eliot: “April is the cruelest month.” Herself was taken to the ER and admitted into the hospital for several days - same old nemesis breathing problems. This is the third April in as many years, we have gone through this, hence the quote.
Tests showed we are now dealing with a serious situation which will require a course of treatment lasting six weeks. After that, they’ll do another test to see if the treatment was successful. Once again, we ask for your prayers, positive thoughts and encouragement. Thank you!”
Request for donations
Once a year, we reluctantly have to make a request for contributions to help us cover our out of pocket expenses and it’s especially crucial this year given already mounting medical bills. If you would like to help, you can do it online at PayPal:
Or by snail mail:
5814 Blue Spruce
Cincinnati, OH 45224
Go raibh maith agat!
Featured Articles on the home page
Mothering Sunday in old Ireland
Poems & lyrics in honour of Irish mothers
Celtic Music for Mother’s Day
May - the month of mirth and merriment
The May Day dew - should you roll naked in it?
How to prevent Mayhem
Beltane bonfires and nettle soup
Bright flames of May
Marry in May & rue the day
John McCormack - Mother Machree
Medals for Mothers -Daniel O’Donnell
In Memory of My Mother
The Little Irish Mother
Did Your Mother come from Ireland - Bing Crosby
My Irish Mother - Kenny Paul
A Mother’s Love is a Blessing - Bridie Gallagher
If you are lucky enough to still have your mother with you, let her know how much you love her every day, not just on Mother’s Day. And if she has already gone to her reward, might we suggest doing what we’ll be doing - wishing we had given her more hugs and told her more often how much we love her.
So there you have it until we write again - God willing, next month.
We’ll take our leave with this old Irish blessing:
May you be blessed with
warmth in your home,
love in your heart,
peace in your soul
and joy in your life.
Bridget & Russ
Get down on your knees and thank God you’re still on your feet
Leave them laughing
When it comes to Irish mothers, we don’t think anything can surpass this mammy’s classic letter to her son. We hope you feel, the same way:
Just a few lines to let you know I'm still alive. I'm writing this letter slowly because I know you can't read fast. We are all doing very well.
You won't recognise the house when you get home - we have moved. Your dad read in the newspaper that most accidents happen within 20 miles from your home, so we moved. I won't be able to send you the address because the last Irish family that lived here took the house numbers when they moved so that they wouldn't have to change their address.
This place is really nice. It even has a washing machine. I'm not sure it works so well though: last week I put a load in and pulled the chain and haven't seen them since.
Your father's got a really good job now. He's got 500 men under him. He's cutting the grass at the cemetery.
Your sister Mary had a baby this morning but I haven't found out if it's a boy or a girl, so I don't know whether you are an auntie or an uncle.
Your brother Tom is still in the army. He's only been there a short while and they've already made him a court martial!
Your Uncle Patrick drowned last week in a vat of whiskey in the Dublin Brewery. Some of his workmates tried to save him but he fought them off bravely. They cremated him and it took three days to put out the fire.
I went to the doctor on Thursday and your father went with me. The doctor put a small tube in my mouth and told me not to talk for ten minutes. Your father offered to buy it from him.
The weather isn't bad here. It only rained twice this week, first for three days and then for four days. Monday was so windy one of the chickens laid the same egg four times.
We had a letter from the under-taker. He said if the last payment on your Grandmother's plot wasn't paid in seven days, up she comes.
About that coat you wanted me to send you, your Uncle Stanley said it would be too heavy to send in the mail with the buttons on, so we cut them off and put them in the pockets.
much has happened.
Your loving Mam
P.S. I was going to send you some money but I had already sealed the envelope.