A muscular fist punches a hole through my chest.Why so scared? Why so scared? Why do you always want to be missed out, skipped over, anonymous? Why make choices that no one will ever see, comment on or know? Here I am still trying to break my arm in The Door rather than speak. I slam myself …
When did magic die for you? I always believed in magic. I mean, really believed in it. Aged 9 I thought if I wished hard enough my cat would talk to me. That he was only hiding his secret self behind his impassive cat face because he could not trust a human. Could never trust a human, not even …
I used to think that the clouds went to bed at night When I saw them softly wandering towards the horizon at sunset I imagined they gathered together In a heap On the horizon Resting Bedded down Until morning came When it was time to stretch and pull away For another day wandering the open …
My cheese sandwich is not like the others. We all want to make a connection. We see a news story, read something on social media, or talk to a friend. We might think, “I know exactly what you mean!” But where we might see stunning similarities, others may only perceive glaring differences. My Cheese Sandwich …
T’was the week before Christmas, when all through the land Not a creature was safe from austerity’s hand. The P45s were placed in the OUT-tray with care, While Chairman and MD made sure they weren’t there. At home, children nestled all snug in their beds, While downstairs mum and dad raged off their …
There’s a cat-shaped hole in our house tonight.
I wanted to be a poet once upon a time. Ha ha. But please feel free to Open door Then a storyteller. Well, I ended up with a blog. Then I wanted to work in advertising. And I did. I was (and am) a creative copywriter. But along the way I learnt how to suffer when my creation was pinned to a …
I’ve been talking to another blogger fourhillsfarm64 about the legacy of being a child who has grown up and lived with the long-term disease and death of a parent (or loved one). I’ve covered some of my own thoughts and experiences on this in previous posts. The outside calm and the inside crying My father was disabled and horribly ill for most of my …
I hate feeling that I’m ‘past it’. That maybe, just maybe, I’m now considered ‘too old’ to be a writer in advertising and marketing. This insecurity is all in my own head. Probably. But I’ve been mulling (ooh I love a good mull) over my 25-odd years in the business, and I’ve noticed a running theme. Good …
Walking to the station this morning. The Chemical Brothers banging away in my earphones. I was striding along. Pumping bass. Deafening synth chords. But, it was all a bit… loud. I got to thinking, “Is this the music I need to hear?” “Am I really enjoying these hyper dance sounds at 8.30am on a beautifully tranquil English summer …
the crone 