I will keep this short because, if you have been following these, you will know I've been up-the-walls busy simply by the fact you haven't heard from me. I just want to apologise. My last piece was ambiguous and therefore truly hurtful to some family members. I wrote what I thought was a dry caricature… Continue reading Day 32: Mea Culpa
Here's the thing about bad moods. While I can understand them objectively and am a firm believer in their importance and solidity in the vast landscape of our feelings, I am just not very good at them. As much as I try to accept I'm having a bad day, as much as I call it… Continue reading Day 13: Of course Monday the 13th is a frigging shit show.
Here's the deal. My sister and I have nominated Friday as fag* night or, more alliteratively, Fag Friday because imagination and any soupçon of political correctedness and/or fear of ridicule went out the window with coronavirus. By doing this just once last week, we've now created a whole tradition that feels as old and inherent… Continue reading Day 12: My level of fear does not correlate to the amount of alcohol I drank
I have spent the past few weeks searching for hope in a global sadness occasioned by Nora Quoirin’s death. Unable to stop thinking of the siblings left behind without a sister, it occurred to me that, too often, it takes tragedy to loosen our lips and become verbose on the subject of love. Too often,… Continue reading Honouring Nora Quoirin with an Ode to Sisterhood
In the midst of bleak January, five adult children and their two childlike parents packed themselves into two cars, packed all of their belongings into one suitcase and seven bursting ‘knapsacks’* and jetted off for some sunny R&R. Here’s a relatively accurate account of our travels, filled with artistic licence and a flair for the satirical.