from Ireland

Just when I’d begun to feel that all Europeans were anti-American, I come across Eamonn Fitzgeral’ds latest entry… Thanksgiving for the indispensable nation Seeing that some 60 percent of Rainy Day’s site visits originate from the USA, it would be churlish indeed to let Thanksgiving pass without giving thanks to all those Americas, not just Continue reading from Ireland


Sid tells me to write my own stories, not someone else’s. He means not simply anything I can make up in my head, but my own story. The story that is part of me. To which end: my story currently consists of typing a lot in order to avoid helping my husband to medicate the Continue reading procrastination

no one came home

No one came home 1. Max was in bed that morning, pressed against my feet, walking to my pillow to kiss my nose, long and lean with aqua- marine eyes, my sun prince who thought himself my lover. He was cream and golden orange, strong willed, lord of the other cats and his domain. He Continue reading no one came home