It changes through life, the thing you turn to when the going gets tough; the thing you do to unwind and to clear your head. Some people go off and pound the streets, shove in their ear-pods (or not) and let the pavement absorb their problems with a brisk walk or a long run. And … Continue reading The Thing You Turn To
I left school thirty years ago. Thrown on life’s waves – that’s how I looked upon it. It was a fracture, something daunting, a major life change to be survived rather than to be relished. At least that’s how I think I felt, memory does play funny tricks on the truth. I loved school; I … Continue reading From The Bottom Of My Pencil Case
I had never heard the phrase before and then (how does this happen?) I came across it again within twenty-four hours. ‘Happiness writes white,’ he said. ‘When I am content, I have no inspiration. Ease causes the muse to fly.’ I didn’t want to believe it, that one needs to be tortured in order to … Continue reading Happiness Writes White
I love the part of being home that allows me to meet up with old friends, small reunions that taste so much sweeter after these long months of social confinement. The days of the open door and of ‘come on in’ have not quite returned, but the outdoor replacements – beaches and backyards, park benches … Continue reading Old Friends
‘That's the trouble with reality, it's taken far too seriously.’ It’s a line from a song that’s trapped in my head, dancing around in there as I encourage its sentiment to take root. Back in the nineties an Irish band called An Emotional Fish had a hit song, ‘Celebrate’ and that’s what the line is … Continue reading The Trouble With Reality
I was on the phone last night for an hour talking someone down off their worry ledge. Actually, that’s not true. I wasn’t equipped to talk them down, I didn’t have the script for it, all I could do was listen. And now I’m taking the time to think it through, reflect and work out … Continue reading Worry
‘I don’t like it when you write about any of that fluffy stuff. If it’s a piece on trees and the sky and nature I don’t bother to read to the end. It’s the same with babies; they’re of no interest to me until they are two or three-years old, only then do I bother … Continue reading A Child Is Born
Didn't you just love the story this week about the couple from Yorkshire who won the lottery only to declare they wouldn't be holidaying in a yacht off the Amalfi coast or buying a Maserati, but rather, they were quite happy to keep up their annual holiday in a caravan in Skegness and more than … Continue reading Out Of Tune
I phoned my friend the other night. It’s a bad time of the year for him, the marking of an anniversary that makes him sad. ‘It was a night just like this,’ he told me, ‘gorgeous, still, warm; swallows skimming the grass. I sat out late enjoying an evening that lasted forever, and then the … Continue reading Happiness
I threaded my belt back through the loops of my jeans and fastened the buckle. Then I laced my boots, making a mental note not to wear them next time I flew; such a palaver of eyes and hooks and long laces to wind around my ankles before double knotting. ‘How about a cup of … Continue reading The Truth About Love
