“I’m passionate about baking, singing, cooking, dancing, sewing, potting.” Insert whatever activity you like according to whatever cook-off or dance-off or bake-off is airing these days, and you can be sure that you’ll hear every contestant tell us they are ‘passionate’. Which is as it should be; after all, no sane person would put themselves under the spotlight … Continue reading Lukewarm
A.’s car wouldn’t start this morning. It might have been the cold. When we were small, five Hail Marys got our car going when the temperature dropped and the engine hacked like a 30-a-day smoker and refused to budge – it worked every time. Its clogged up mechanical throat cleared and it spluttered to life … Continue reading Prayer Push
“And how do you think you are going to cope when I cast you off to this island, alone?”That’s often the final question on Desert Island Discs, before the guest chooses his or her favourite song, one book, and a luxury item of their choice. (Did you know that Sue Lawley – as guest, not … Continue reading When I’m Alone
‘The old dog for the long road.’ D. taught me that one when I was much younger, when I had more give in my knees. Back then I got the gist of it, though I can't say I fully grasped its depth of meaning. It is one of those sayings to which you nod when … Continue reading Be Still And Wait
Resilience: it has come to be one of those buzz words, a quality we seek to embody for ourselves, our children, our towns, our communities. It is that ability to withstand life’s scouring pad and boiling water, to emerge shiny, free from scrape or scald. Possessing the means to bounce back when the bowling ball … Continue reading Resilience
I arrived into London’s Kings Cross three hours late, running through the connecting underground passageways of the Tube network towards the Victoria line in a pool of sweat. ‘Horses sweat, men perspire, ladies merely glow,’ my father once taught me. Would that it were true. It was 34 degrees and I was sweating. “Sorry! So … Continue reading And Breathe
About ten years ago, on a camping trip, I caught the little toe of my left foot on a rock when I was messing about in a river. Nature had provided a slide in the form of a long rock rendered smooth from thousands of years of water running over it. Taking turns, we would … Continue reading Wounds
There’s a sad old song by Irving Berlin called, ‘What’ll I Do?’ and sometimes I slip into it like a soapy bath and lie there in my pool of gloom. ‘What'll I do when you are far away / and I'm so blue? What'll I do? / What'll I do with just a photograph / to tell my troubles … Continue reading What’ll I Do?