30 June 2016

Dear Diary

When I was 18 I kept a diary for a year. It was small and red. I wrote in it most days. I remember in the beginning my entries were clunky and affected but after a while any contrivance gave way and that little red book really did become a true confessional. The place where my outwardly self-conscious beige self would purge all the colour and all the feeling that was bubbling beneath my skin.

Thinking about it now, 20 years later, is strange. Actually my heart aches a little because even though I lost the diary in a move only months after the year was out there were entries of sadness and of searching in there I can recall now fresh and raw as when I wrote them.

22 June 2016

Winona Forever

Winona Forever. That's what Johnny Depp had tattooed on his arm at the height of his romance with this woman in the early 90s. 

Years later when the relationship was over and Johnny had taken up with model Kate Moss he famously had part of the tat removed. His arm from then on read only 'Wino Forever'.

I did snigger to myself some years back when reading an interview with him where he was talking about living in France and how he'd discovered this great love for red wine. I thought 'cool', so he's making the abridged version of the that tat work for him these days.

Alas, I digress, it's Winona, not Johnny who I want to talk about.

15 June 2016

Country crush

First thing's first. 

Enjoy a listen before reading this post.

Click here

Nice, huh? I stumbled upon Mr Outlaw recently. 

Sadly it's only in the past year or so that I've shed my furtive caterpillar skin and blossomed into what I'd describe as an appreciator of good country music. I say 'sadly' because I really do regret wasting a lot of good listening time ignorant to the charms of country.

8 June 2016

The little things that make me...

Ever have one of those weeks where you feel like no matter how many to do lists you write, how fast you move, how late you stay up at night or how early you rise in the morning you just can't get everything done?

I'm having one now.

Usually it ends in tears. "But I'm not getting anywhere!" I wail as I count up the negatives:
# the house is a pigsty
# the mountain of dirty washing in the laundry could bury all four of my kids
# I've got several hours of work to do on the computer once everyone's in bed for the night
# my novel hasn't seen a new sentence in days
# there's a massive zit brewing on my chin

Well, today I'm going to try something different. The tears have been dried and I've got a pen and paper in my hand.