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Life of Lu


So who is Labhaoise Ni Dhuibhir?
Well first of all, I don't ever call myself Labhaoise.
I go by Louise
or Lu
but never EVER Lulu...
it's just not cute!

I'm from Ireland and have the trademark ginger hair.
While I am no longer living in Ireland I will always have a little of my heart over there.
I live in Scotland, every year I seem to end a wee bit further north.

I love to read
I love to write
I love to twirl

I love people who smile
I love friends who make me smile
I despise rude people
most of all though
I hate sheep.

Why not have a read of the short autobiography I did for a challenge?


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12 years and counting....

It is that time of the year again, my sister's anniversary. 12 years since we bid her farewell.
Well, tomorrow is her anniversary but I am having a very lazy morning and as a result I am writing this today.

For the past 11 years, the entire month of November has been a struggle for me.
In the beginning it was a raw struggle. Every single day from the 10th (her birthday) to the 29th (her anniversary) was like a hot blade slicing through my heart.
I think it is because the loneliness of not having her with us to celebrate her birthday is intensified by the fact that her anniversary is so close, and there is an awareness and an emotional surge in the three weeks between that just lingers in my subconscious.
Now, I definitely do become very low for those three weeks, but it is much easier to bounce out of it as we approach the anniversary and I realise that my irrationality of the last three weeks was simply bottled up emotion from the remaining 49 weeks of the year.

This year was a t…

The day I got a little sister.

Last night, as I got the bus home from work, I got really choked up as the clock turned midnight. Perhaps because I'd been checking product dates all day, I was painfully aware of what date I was stepping into, or perhaps because I had just returned from a trip to Ireland I was painfully aware of it all. I don't know. It's not important.

When I went to bed last night, I started to think about my sister a little more. A lot more. I remember the day she was born. Isn't that weird? I was only 3 years old but I remember. Mam was on the phone from the hospital to Da, and he asked my brother and I if we wanted to speak to our mammy. Naturally we both jumped at the chance to say hi. Our telephone at the time was in the hallway and was a few feet from the ground, so my brother and I had to stand on a chair to speak into it. As the eldest I went first and gushed and oohed as I thought was appropriate. I hopped off my chair and gave the floor to my brother. I was unprepared for…

Moving on.

I realised something the other day. That is not nearly specific enough or dramatic enough for this story. Let me start again...
I had a startling realisation the other day. I think Scotland and I are starting to go our separate ways (and I am not talking about Brexit) I was in Glasgow a few weeks ago, and I went on a tourist bus tour. I actually went on it twice, and I loved it. I got to see all the attractions I have wanted to see over the years: The Cathedral, the Necropolis, The Transport Museum, The People's Palace. It was very similar to something I did just before I left Edinburgh, my own little way of saying goodbye. When I got on the train home, I realised that in my own wee way, I was saying goodbye to Glasgow. Other than a course there on the 11th of May, I have no idea when I am going to be there next. I have no gigs booked, my upcoming flights to Ireland are all from Edinburgh.  I feel rather sad that my attachment to Glasgow has severed. In my head it was where I would…