Let there be light….

There is such strength in kindness, in reaching out to people when they need it, whether we know them or not, whether we’re sure about how to help or not.



I have discovered through some intense and serious research (participation in a hilarious ranty thread in my favourite online group that keeps getting longer despite being started quite some time ago) everyone has certain things that make them grit their teeth just the slightest bit.  You know, the petty things that irritate, bemuse, or make…

‘Twas the Week Before Christmas

’Twas the week before Christmas, and Violet (aged four) Had more questions re Santa than ever before; Why squeeze down the chimney? Our front door is fine. Does he like fake trees, or should we have pine? We don’t have snow, so what’s with the sleigh? And what does ‘Ho Ho Ho’ even mean, anyway?…

Channelling Pollyanna

There was a fair bit of denial over the course of last evening.  Denial and swears.  And chocolate.  With some wine to take the sting off.  I blame the polls for getting my hopes up.  And my own stupid self for not floating outside my leftie, social consciencey, feminist, anti-phobe, social-media bubble and having a look around at what the other folk were talking about.

Puppy Love?

A puppy turned up at our place on Saturday.  A pudgy, floppy-earred, jumpy-licky, short-wheel-based pup with no sense of boundaries or outliving its welcome.


Generally speaking, I am one of those people who needs to be feeling like death before I go anywhere near a doctor.  Even then, if I think it’s death by virus, standard practice is paracetamol and a healthy dose of avoidance. Partly it’s a hallmark of being a teacher; the preparation of relief work while feverish is just about as…

Mother’s Day.

We have a chequered history, Mother’s Day and I. My first and second were right shitters, if we’re being honest.

Homes away from home

Most of us, if we’re lucky, had at least one friend during our young life whose house became a home away from home, whose parents became surrogates, whose siblings were just as infuriating as our own.

Each to their own?

In this age of individuality, where subjectivity is King and anyone’s opinion and perspective is as valid and correct as anyone else’s, it seems like we’ve lost sight of the fact that there are, indeed, facts. Things that cannot really be contested, no matter who you are and what your experience may be.

So wrong

Activewear enthusiasts, I have judged you harshly. And I was wrong.

How it was.

You’re sitting through one of those excruciating meetings that should have been an email. Its topic is something that you care little about, and that matters in the grand scheme of things not at all.