Derry Girls

Friday morning I played golf at 8:30 a.m. by myself--my first time using the mats that are required throughout the winter. I'm in a winter league--actually I'm captain of one of the 7 teams–and I have to get in a minumum of 8, maximum of 16 cards by 31 January. I have six in so far but didn't put a card in today because I want to readjust to hitting off the mat.

Then to the train station to collect Jennifer Craig and Angela Elliott, two former pupils at Londonderry High School. Which of course means they are Derry girls. We then went to Ann O'Dwyer's house for a lovely lunch.

Ann and Ang were buddies back in the day and hadn't seen each other in decades. It was good craic listening to all the reminiscing. I was two years behind them and Jennifer was four years behind them, so we mostly listened.

Saturday morning I took Paddy for a lovely walk at Lagan Meadows, called in at Ann's to get a bag of goodies the Derry girls had left for me, home, then I took the Glider from the extreme of East Belfast to the extreme of West Belfast, attending a lecture on the Falls Road on the Irish diaspora. The two historians each had a book for sale but I didn't buy either b/c I had just bought two books Tuesday night when I went to hear English author Jonathan Coe speak. An hour's roundtrip on the bus cost me nothing due to being over age 60. Doesn't really seem fair when younger people have it harder than older people.

Saturday evening I went with my friend Marian to see Lyra, a documentary about Lyra McKee, murdered by the New IRA in the Creggan. She was a talented young writer and investigative reporter with so much promise. Killed at 29. The documentary was very well done, with lots of footage of her talking about her excitement about her work. It was heart breaking.

Sunday I had Paddy at Redburn. Always always waiting for a stick. Or ball or frisbee.

As I gazed at down at the port, I remembered an article I read yesterday, an interview with American writer Richard Powers. It said that, to combat climate change, we have to change our acquisitive ways and reconnect with each other and with nature. When I see stacks of shipping containers (not terribly visible in the photo) I think of big box stores and all the crap we buy out of boredom, loneliness, status seeking.  It is well documented that women's magazines do nothing but make women feel bad about themselves, given all the skinny models and their perfect skin/hair/clothes. But home decorating magazines are the same--making us want a do over because our homes are never good enough.

The line from the article that stayed with me was this quote from Richard Powers: "You have two choices: you can imgaine the end of the world, or you can imagine the end of capitalism. And most people right now are imagining the end of the world."

"Powers fears that without a cultural shift we will be unable to halt our degradation of nature. Tackling climate change is 'pitched to us as an engineering problem,' but really it is a 'psychological one.' People bristle when told they have to 'be less: to use less, travel less, consume less,' he said. 'They are grieving for the death of a system that can't be saved.'"

I think the problem with reversing individualistic and materialistic attitudes is technology. It seems to me Instagram, Facebook, Twitter have increased our isolation and our need to curate an image, particularly for younger people. To move to a world view based on a shared destiny and interdependence with the natural world is a big ask for generations who walk around looking at their phones.

After Redburn I called in with Patricia for tea and buns. She hasn't been well and enjoyed having a visitor after self isolating. Then on to the golf course, where I played with Ali and submitted another card. And that was my weekend.

4-6 November