How lucky are we to live in a place where autumn makes everything all kinds of burnished beautiful, asks Liz Breslin.
When there's nothing remotely interesting on TV, channelling your inner collage artist is not the answer, writes Liz Breslin.
Unesco City of Literature residency writer Liz Breslin finds a way to cool off in Krakow. Or does she?
Let's face it. There's a lot wrong with the world these days. But two things make me really mad. Stainless steel pineapple slicers and planned obsolescence. Let me explain.
At the end of the day, my wise Irish friend used to say, there is always the night, Liz Breslin writes.
You can’t be good at all the things all the time, and nobody likes a show off, but I would like to be a little bit less distinctly average at growing things, says Liz Breslin.
It's reasonable, when you're away from your people and your place, for an extended amount of time, to feel a little homesick, writes Liz Breslin.
Sometimes the numbers don't add up to much of anything, Liz Breslin writes.
Having exhausted every other angle on rugby this week, Liz Breslin's family started chatting about concussion tests.
There are times when it 's very good to be able to overcome self-doubt. To dwell in a state of certainty, writes Liz Breslin.
Turns out there is much room for improvement in my appreciation of one of Poland's proud culinary/cultural traditions. Mushrooms. (Much room. See what I did there!?), writes Liz Breslin.
After a week at home with the flu (the real sort, the doctor said), we'd tried most things.