And so, last week I re-shared an old post about a day in my life as a disabled mother. Because that’s my every day, it was an OK post, and it was Throwback Thursday. I know it might not be Thursday today, but stick with me. Within minutes, less time than it would take to actually read the post, I was re-shared with the comment, ‘So inspiring!’ Well, shit. For what? Did you actually read the post?’ What is it…
I moved to the country about three years ago. I was working through post-natal anxiety and maybe mistakenly thought that the fresh air would rattle my brain back to whatever normal is. (Normal is relative and over-rated) We first moved in with my family. My father wanted to be like The Waltons. But The Waltons is TV. Old TV. (And I love my Dad, but I’ve learned that I also love reliable internet connections and family time that doesn’t involve…
There’s this interesting thing about me. The best part of any holiday or vacation or fuckskioffski or whatever you call it, is the night before you leave. That and Day One. Round about Day Two or Three, I’m already thinking of ways to extend the trip. Because I am a wanderluster like that. And as we approached the middle of our Edinburgh road trip, I got to thinking. Neil will tell you my over-thinking is a scary thing. But stick…
‘You know how new hair grows in under old hair?’ I said to Neil through the bathroom wall. ‘Yeah?’ ‘Well, all my new hair is gray,’ I said. Before we headed off on our most recent road trip, I spent some time looking at myself in the mirror. I figured out some things. I should probably drink more water. I may start wearing some make up, all the time. But not really. Ah’m no bad, as they say over here.…
Yesterday was our wedding anniversary. If you’ve been following along you may know that Neil wasn’t actually home for it, but he’s back today. And the house is happy again. Now. I’m quite fond of complaining saying my husband is decidedly unromantic. Today, this happened. 12.30ish. ‘Mumma, what are you doing?’ ‘I’m calling your father. And if he hasn’t left yet, you’re gonna learn some new words.’ And then this happened. ‘Please tell me you’ve left?’ ‘Shall I tell you where…
