Rebecca is my name. That means I was Becky for the first thirteen years of my life. I still am to my family, or those old friends who know me through my family. I was Becky at primary school and in the first year at intermediate. When I was twelve or thirteen, my parents decided to … Continue reading Rebecca


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


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