Hanging out in a liminal space

I have a feeling of being in transition, of being in between the not anymore and the not yet. I've been chewing on it ever since I saw my dear friend incarcerated in his body from a stroke, and struggling in a nursing home. The push onto the threshold is also because this is my…

The pettiness of the long-distance writer…

Oh, I'm so fed up. With myself, with my not-writing, with this foolishness that I assign myself only to fail. I find myself avoiding reading reviews of new books because the bitterness of "I shoulda been a " is so strong, though I know full well I don't have the stick-to-itiveness to finish my writing…

Serendipitous Connections

  I'm all grown up now, no kids to tow to rugby games or class performances , no parent-teacher lineups or other shared parental volunteer activities to set up friendships with other grown ups. It used to be easy to meet new folks - we were doing the same things at the same time, our kids…

A humble joy

Once and awhile, I wonder what drove me to abandon all I knew and flee eastwards, where family is distant and old friends are further still. Here I perch on the edge of Canada, blasted by the Atlantic, covered by fog, quite quite alone a lot of the time (I am fortunate to have wonderful…

The new love in my life…

I have a new love in my life. He's quiet, a classic, comfy to hold and hug to me. He lets me touch him whenever I want, enjoys my cuddling with him on the couch while I watch tv, comes out with me to social events and joins in with enthusiasm. He, like me, enjoys…

What do YOU love?

It's one of those "Whiskers on kittens" days, when I am thinking of my favourite things. I'm watching my parrotlets unsuccessfully try to cuddle (my girl, Dora, hates the boy, Bertie, but he likes her and has a twinkle in his eye and an urge to pursue. No wonder she's plucking her feathers), and thinking…

Sometimes, I need the sea…

Okay, as Nanowrimo procrastination, I've wandered about the internet, looking for houses on Nova Scotia's Southern Shore. It is true madness, but all it took was me seeing that there is a Ukulele ceilidh happening there every two years to make me wish to live in Liverpool. Well, that and the view of a multi-coloured…

Tiptoeing through – no – stomping through the tulips

Last night I had an out-of-body experience. I've been trying, half-heartedly, to learn how to play the ukulele for months now. I have my son's old high school uke, a tuner given to me by my friend Bob, and a couple of books far too advanced for my skills. So I've tinkered along, not learning…