June was an incredibly difficult month, both for the world and for me personally. The first photo will demonstrate the former, and I’ll go into more detail about the latter in the last photo.
There’s nothing I can say here that hasn’t already been said, and by those more eloquent than I. But Black lives matter. Plain and simple.
I had some very difficult and emotionally draining conversations this month, both with myself and others. And I’ll continue to have those conversations. I’ll continue to educate myself on how to be an ally.
It saddens me deeply that this is still an issue. That this was ever an issue. And I admit I let a sense of despair take over on certain days. I felt hopeless and useless.
But there is hope. The global protests sowed more seeds of change. They presented a unified and powerful voice that I’m confident will spark real and lasting progress.
We have a long way to go but, together, we can get there.
And, what with June also being Pride month, let me take this opportunity to say (if it wasn’t already abundantly clear) that this is an inclusive space. Regardless of your skin colour, your gender, your sexual orientation, your religion (or lack thereof), your capabilities, your background, or the amount in your bank account, you are welcome here.
As long as you abide by my “don’t be a dick” policy, you’re good people in my book.
Growing potato plants was my proudest moment of June. I planted some (with Scout’s help) at the end of May with zero expectation of success.
But a week or two later, a little sprout popped its head above ground, and more followed a few days later. (I share regular updates on my insta-stories if you want to see how much they’ve grown in recent weeks.)
My black thumbs of yesteryear have miraculously been cured (thank you, universe) and I can’t tell you how excited I am at the prospect of being able to provide for my family with something I grew myself.
They won’t be ready to harvest for about another two months, and obviously we’re not going to survive solely on potatoes (that didn’t work out so well for my ancestors), but it’s a step in the right direction!
It sounds silly but these little plants were little beacons of hope to me in what was otherwise a pretty gloomy month.
(And proof that you can take the girl out of Ireland but…)
In an attempt to cheer myself up, and because I’d barely left the house to do anything but essential stuff like grocery shopping, I decided to take a trip to one of my favourite places in the world – IKEA. (It’s very much a ‘love it or hate it’ place. Which camp do you fall into? My husband is firmly in the latter.)
I figured if I got there at opening time, it’d be pretty quiet. And the large space would help me easily keep my distance from other shoppers.
But lo and behold there was a large queue already waiting when I got there.
Nonetheless, the vast majority were wearing masks, staff only let in a small number at a time, and there was hand sanitiser aplenty at various locations throughout the store.
I spent 5 hours (yes, you heard me) strolling through the store and it was blissful. I needed the alone time, the change of scenery, the inspiration, and the ever-so-slight feeling of freedom and normality (while masked and gloved and staying 6 feet away from people).
And, of course, I didn’t leave empty-handed. Click through to page 2 to see what I bought (and boy did I have trouble getting that into the car!), as well as a very personal story that served as an unpleasant wake-up call.