I don’t know what it is about 2019 and trying out new things. First there was the choir, and that was stressful enough. Because, as you are by now fully aware, I really hate trying new things. But this week, I joined a gym! I’m always banging on about how I consider myself to be … Continue reading Gym Virgin
Perhaps a year ago, I mentioned on this blog that I was considering joining a choir. It was a fairly wishy-washy plan that I probably wasn’t going to follow through on, but this week, the choir-thing reared its ugly head again. I was the lead singer in amateur bands a couple of times in my … Continue reading Sing!
I was having a conversation with somebody the other day - I don't remember who - about growing up in the 70s. I was born in 1971. And it’s only when you really think back, or your ailing memory is jogged by something, that you start to realise how much times have changed since you … Continue reading You Don’t Know You’re Born!
Ask me what I want for Christmas. Go on, ask. Well, the answer is – I don’t know. Beyond some bed socks and a new pair of pyjamas (t-shirty top, flannel bottoms, please), my wants are simple and few. It’s probably the same for most people my age. If you have a job, and you … Continue reading #mygrownupchristmaslist
There are a couple of American writer-friends of mine who have kindly advised me that I’m pretty nifty at writing ‘slice of life’ blogs. There are probably other writers who say would advise me I’m not that nifty at any kind of writing, but I choose not to listen to them. Lately, I always start … Continue reading London, Baby!
This wasn’t the post I was going to write. I was going to write something quirky and random - the usual. But I was lying in bed unable to sleep the other night. And you know how it is when you can’t sleep. You eventually start to look back over your life history, like you … Continue reading One June Evening in 1996
Is it just me, or was I badly brought up? Either way, I think it's best to know your limitations; it’s easier on one’s fragile ego to just accept there are things you are painfully deficient at or in (whether it's your own fault or your faulty upbringing). Of course, you should pat yourself on … Continue reading 5 things I’m truly terrible at and it’s probably too late to start practising