Mar 4, 2025 | A House In Italy, A Rosie Moment, Book Updates, RE# Your Life
If you have read my book ‘A Rosie Life In Italy’ you may remember that back in 2013, I was living in the cheapest house in Ireland with a colander for a roof, rats scrabbling above my bedroom ceiling, and not enough money to pay for my kids’ school bus fare. Life was, to put it bluntly, a bit of a shit show.
I was 40 years old, and the previous ten years had felt like a relentless game of emotional Whac-A-Mole; Miscarriages. Losing my big sister. My partner battling and then rehabbing from chronic alcoholism. The collapse of my business and income. Our dream of moving to Spain—gone. Every time I thought things might turn a corner, life threw another curveball, and I was exhausted. The chaos in my life was attracting more chaos.
I needed something to shift the trajectory of my life. I wanted to step away from the chaos. I wanted an instruction manual, a step-by-step guide to get out of the rut, to stop spinning in the same downward cycle. But I couldn’t find one.
So, I decided I would create my own.
I knew I wanted to follow my dreams and live life to the full. More importantly, I wanted other women who were feeling the same—trapped, stuck, waiting—to rise with me and grab life by the goolies. Because let’s be honest, we know by now there is no knight in shining armour coming to rescue us. If we want to shake things up, we have to do it ourselves.
Grab It By the Goolies Academy
I knew how to build a website, so I started Life Is Short Magazine. It was an online magazine filled with interviews of inspirational women who had followed their dreams, despite life’s challenges. I wanted their stories to give me and others hope and inspiration and to be proof that it was possible to change course, no matter what life had thrown at you.
I wanted to develop a community of women so we could encourage and learn from each other so alongside it I launched—Grab It By the Goolies Academy—an online space to encourage people to take tangible steps toward their dreams. And, because I don’t do things in halves and I believe in the power of a good book, I decided to write a non-fiction book to kick off the academy and website, called; How To Have A Fabulous Midlife Crisis: A User’s Guide to Dusting Off Your Dreams and Making Them Happen.
Then something I always wanted to happen happened.
Are you following me on Substack??? NO? You are missing so much! It is where I blog now. To start you can read the rest of this post over there and if you are not already on my newsletter list you can subscribe for free:
Read the rest of this post on Substack. Click Here.
Aug 16, 2024 | Living In Italy
Here in our small town in Italy, we often see an elderly couple at the local supermarket. We’ve named them Bill and Betty. I doubt their Italian names are anything close to that, but giving nicknames to Italians we see often helps us give a quick reference when chatting about who we saw when out around town. We only ever see Bill and Betty at the fruit and vegetable aisle in the supermarket doing the same ritual. The old gent, Bill, picks up a piece of veg, smells it, inspects it, and if it passes the test, he carefully places it in the basket which Betty stands holding, patiently waiting for each verdict.
“Don’t forget we need to stop at the supermarket and get a bottle of prosecco,” I say to Ronan on our way to our friend’s house for an afternoon swim, which is naturally followed by an early aperitivo.
“I’ll get a watermelon to take with us too,” Ronan says as we enter the shop and see Bill and Betty.
Watermelons are rampant here at the moment. They are enormous. Carrying them to the cash desk is like an Ironman challenge, but they are the most refreshing thing to munch, during the current 37C days we are having.
Bill and Betty must think the same, as Bill is standing at the large crate of huge watermelons tapping each one with his head bent close.
“What do you think he is listening for?” Ronan asks while I choose a bunch of grapes to take with us also.
“A little hello from inside perhaps?” I say. “Do you think a hollow sound is good or a dull sound is bad? Or would hollow be bad and dull would mean good?” Ronan says, watching Bill carry his chosen watermelon to the cash desk.
“I said hello not hallow. I don’t know if a hallow sound would be good or bad, but a hello would be just freaky.”
I head to the Prosecco aisle and leave Ronan to weigh the grapes behind the usual hoard of German and Dutch camping tourists doing their grocery shopping.
But Ronan decides not to queue, instead Ronan being Ronan goes along tapping each watermelon and holding his head close trying to figure out, or given some divine sign, which would be the best watermelon to buy.
I’m at the cash desk at this stage waiting to pay for the Prosecco and in earshot of the fruit aisle. A Dutch tourist approaches Ronan and starts speaking Italian, Ronan, who doesn’t speak any Italian, asks “Can you speak English?” “Oh yes, great, I am sorry for my poor Italian,” the tourist says to Ronan.
“Can you choose one for me?” he says, pointing at the watermelons. Instead of picking one at random and exiting stage left as quickly as possible, I watch as Ronan goes from watermelon to watermelon, tapping each with his ear close to the crate. A small attentive crowd gathers to watch The Watermelon Tapper before Ronan announces confidently in his best Italian speaking English accent. “This one. Choose-o-this-a-one-a.”
I can’t take the embarrassment any longer so I go wait in the car.
Through the supermarket’s large plate-glass window, I can see several tourists tapping watermelons and listening for the magical mystery sound.
Ronan sits into the car all smiles to himself.
“Ronan,” I say. “Where are the grapes?”
“Oh sorry, I left them down. I got distracted choosing a watermelon.”
“And where is the watermelon?”
“Oh crap… I forgot that too.”
Jun 10, 2024 | Book Updates
I’m very excited that the new edition of A Rosie Life In Italy (Book 1: new edition) is now available for pre-order from Barnes and Noble! There is bonus ‘stuff’ in the back of the new edition, and it has a beautiful new cover so it will look great on your book shelf… have I convinced you enough to buy it yet??
Jun 10, 2024 | Living In Italy
A first draft of a scene for A Rosie Life In Italy 6. It might make it, it might not or it might be edited to read completely different:
“Florence is nice, but I was expecting more. I’m disappointed with it,” says my friend Fatima who is visiting the city for the first time.
“Oh, I’ve heard about this. There’s a name on it, Strendhal Syndrome, it’s like Jerusalem syndrome.”
“Isn’t Jerusalem syndrome when visitors to the city have a psychotic religious break down and believe they are the next Messiah or some religious figure from the bible? That is definitely not what I am experiencing. And Strendhal syndrome is when travellers are so overcome by the beauty of all the architecture and artwork in Florence that they begin to hallucinate and get sick. I think I’m having the opposite,” says Fatima who is much better at facts than me.
“I know! It’s like Paris Syndrome – when Japanese tourists are so disappointed with the reality of Paris that they get sick. It’s an extreme form of culture shock. A day with me in Florence should cure your dis-Strendhal Syndrome or maybe we should call it Strendhalitis?”
We meet at the Basilica di Santa Maria Novella. “I’ll take you on one of my look up-look down tours.”
“Explain what I am getting into?” Does Fatima know me well enough already not to trust me?
“When walking around any Italian city street,” I say explaining, “you need to look up, as there is always an unexpected fresco or an architectural detail that makes you want to stop and stare. But then you need to look down, so you don’t break your ankle on an unexpected step or wobbles in the cobbles.”
“Okay, so where are you taking me to first to trigger a love of Florence?”
“The pharmacy,” I announce as I start to walk. Fatima looks perplexed, following me around the corner and down an unimpressive street.
The pharmacy I am taking her to is no ordinary pharmacy, it is the Farmaceutica di Santa Maria Novella. The waft of bergamot, rose and sandalwood strengthening with every step from the entrance, encourages her to keep moving forward into the wow-ness of the central room, with frescoed ceilings and walls brightly lit by a magnificent, massive glass chandelier. A mouthwatering, witchy display of old style glass bottles with glass stoppers, concoctions of herbal elixirs, soaps and perfumes with smelling card sticks are lined up in polished wooden display cabinets and ready for testing. It’s a delicious step back in time to an apothecary full of lotions and potions, with perfumes created to bring back memories or create new ones.
“Do you know the sense of smell is the most acute awakener of memories?” I state to my friend as I sniff one sample and the explosion of the scent in the back of my nose immediately transports me back to my grandmother’s dressing table and her 4711 perfume. In a two second memory dump I can vividly see the detailed grain in the wood of the heavy piece of furniture against the wall of my granny’s room, blackened by years of polish. It’s three-way mirror where my mother would check the back of her hair before going out with my dad on Monday and Friday nights and I would play with and marvel at how I could ricochet the back of my head to infinity by tweaking the mirrors towards each other. I can physically feel the resistance of the heavy, wide drawers refusing to budge back or forth if not heaved with the same force on each side.
It was this dressing table that gave me the lifelong desire for drawers with runners on the sides that glide effortlessly back into place without the need of sweat or painful nip of a finger.
I had forgotten her mirror. I wonder whatever happened to it.
