Memory is as slippery as an over-buttered kipper. Nourishing though. We’re at the midway point of the challenge, and my theme has taken on a far greater significance than it had when I first rather flippantly chose it. Memory has played tricks on me as I’ve written these posts, putting me in places at different … Continue reading Memory


Writing my post about Cricket for the ‘C’ post reminded me of another reason why I may have a mental block against the sport. His name was James, a mate of mine at school. He looked like a young Prince Charles, even down to the sticky out ears. He was very English, fantastic at sport, … Continue reading James

Fecund (or: Falling in love with two older men from afar)

Fecund is one of my favourite words. It means: fertile, fruitful, reproduction, prolific, rich, pregnant. Juicy word, eh? I remember clearly where I found the word fecund. I was seventeen or eighteen. We were studying David Herbert Lawrence’s The Rainbow for A Level Literature at Princethorpe College, an imposing Catholic boarding school in Warwickshire. There … Continue reading Fecund (or: Falling in love with two older men from afar)


We’re adopting a kitten from a wonderful cat rescue centre called The Kitten Inn next week, and it has made me think about my first cat, Dylan. I moved out of Dad’s house and purchased my first home when I was twenty-three. It was a small, two-bed terraced, with a nice but lonely view of a granite quarry. I hated … Continue reading Dylan