Hilary Fannin

Are all the characters in Hilary Fannin’s new play toxically self-involved or has our national plummet from prosperity left everybody isolated?

The sight of big, naked, depilated turkeys sitting up on the countertop like ghostly jurors makes me feel kind of crushed, but, shag it, all in all I’m grateful

The shoes are more orthopaedic than elegant, big blocky black things that cost a lot of money

I would like to think I no longer foolishly aspire to youthful comeliness

Five people compose letters from Ireland to the wider world. Read theirs, write your own, and we’ll publish the best ones on St Patrick’s Weekend

Let’s ditch Mr Hallmark and have an alternative Valentine’s Day celebration

’Tis the season to hurl our grubby cushions on the bonfire, to stand in front of the dusty mirror holding our midriffs in our capable hands

And that dirty word ‘detox’ will play about your lips like the tingle of aged Stilton or the rosy kiss of a Turkish delight

Apparently Sarah Palin has written a book about putting the Christ back into Christmas. She should drop in to my place. He crops up a lot

Guest psychologists on radio at this time of year tell us to lower our expectations of Christmas. They’re right, of course

My addiction to ‘I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here!’ started around the time my husband was being prodded and probed and diced and spliced in hospital

In my childhood days, couscous was a whispered song, uttered to entice stray cats into a sack

The friendliness of Westport helped rescue me from that November feeling

When my brother was diagnosed, I momentarily felt like I hadn’t been invited out to play

Comedian and mindfulness advocate to be interviewed by playwright John Breen

Battle with a blocked wastepipe plunged me into thought: I don’t really understand the varied tapestry of this country at all

She came of age among tribes of girls wearing furry boots that cost more than a well in a desert, but she came from a different world

Katie Price, the babe who launched a thousand implants, now appears anachronistic, almost antique

I admire Helen Fielding’s nous but I never much bought into Bridget’s world

Fiftysomething: The sheer tedium of Gone Girl, ‘the thriller of the year’, will obliterate your critical faculties

The high nelly is a classic Irish bicycle, and being back in the saddle brings back classic Irish memories

What is tantric sex, and does anyone, except Sting and the finely sculpted Trudie Styler, practise it?

There may be times when the global situation appears so dire, and the self so powerless, but the world is still full of tiny moments of grace

Fiftysomething: In my youth, it felt like the choices on offer to us knee-socked convent girls were desperately limited

Fiftysomething: My mother-in-law was tall and strong and moved in full sail

I brought my Arsenal-supporting son to see his team take on Villa. It all started so well

I grew up in a Dublin suburb, and my son grew up in a Dublin suburb; there the comparison ends

The Going Coastal series continues with a kayaking and walking trip along the shores of west Cork from Union Hall to Ring

Fiftysomething: I found myself fantasising about a different life while decorating recently

Fiftysomething

Fiftysomething

Criticised for looking bored on their visits to a library and a lake this week, Malia and Sasha Obama were just being teenagers

Fiftysomething

The home should be a centre for social change, says US ‘radical homemaker’ Shannon Hayes, who speaks in Dublin this week

Hilary Fannin's Fifty Something column

Fiftysomething

All kinds of everything and nothing about Eurovision

Opinion: Many of my peers have a blind spot and display much hypocrisy when it comes to the Catholic Church

Fiftysomething