Tag Archives: terminal illness

herself

Posted on March 18, 2012 by

Brought to you from the different world of a year ago; my Mothers’ Day post. My mum is a star. Vibrant and sassy, full of style and charm. A veteran of many a golf club and gin joint. An adventurer, … Continue reading →

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the important stuff

Posted on December 16, 2011 by

I haven’t treated you to a re-post before. There’s not too much here worth saying twice- but this one is. A wee reminder that in amongst the wrapping and the glitter, the toys and the bling, the universe rolls on. Across the world, … Continue reading →

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only a few tears

Posted on October 18, 2011 by

I have no idea how long it took, and I wasn’t filmed, but I gave the talk. I held on to the podium for dear life, I tried to look at the audience, and my voice cracked, but I gave … Continue reading →

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for National Poetry Day

Posted on October 6, 2011 by

To My Mother, by Mary Montague I’ve just bought it, my own birthday present from you; the first one, harbinger of a new era, not good, but inevitable. The years of the frivolous, the desperate clanging attempts to lure me … Continue reading →

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