Recently I’ve noticed new, small changes to my body which have made me pause and consider. As in, think about the stance I always had on aging. ‘Oh it won’t bother me!’ said I, ‘Wrinkles are a sign that you have lived and laughed in your life, bring it on!’. Hmm. Yes well, they ARE.… Read More Mirror, mirror on the wall…
Ok, so we’ve already established that basically, I am rubbish at sports. Always was, no doubt always will be. My sad little attempt to master the art of horse-riding many moons ago left no illusions on that score. But despite the humiliation of that hapless endeavour, I still wasn’t quite ready to give up and just… Read More Scuba, anyone??
A word, a city which until now has conjured up countless images of la tour Eiffel, the Champs Elysee. Fashion. Style. Romance. A hint of French arrogance, according to some. Winding streets, large open spaces, artists on pavements, delicious cafés au lait and melt-in-the-mouth, crumbly croissants au chocolat. Right now you hear it and the… Read More Paris.
For some reason I tend to view money spent at airports differently to the dosh I hand over on a more normal, spending spree. I still see it as a way of “using up” spare cash, taking clever advantage of the special offers that shine and shimmer at me from sparkly glass cases. As… Read More Last call for flight EI607…
I try. I do, I do, I do, I do. It’s rugby world cup time these weeks and almost everyone I know is feverishly caught up in it. So I want to be too. Especially for Ireland, who won the (what’s it called again? oh yeah) Six Nations cup last year which qualifies them for… Read More So, rugby’s the one with the pointy ball – right?
This morning I got the very sad news that a beloved aunt of my husband had died. Quite suddenly, or so it seems. Having come through an emergency operation quite well, we were hoping for a recovery to carry her that bit further. A recovery that would see her march on a little longer through… Read More Goodbye in any language is a big ask
I’m lying, drowsily, beneath a satin, quilted eiderdown. The room is dimly lit, there’s a log fire crackling in the fireplace, “Lady Mary, your breakfast” … ah yes, that little rope I pulled on… “thank you Anna, no I can butter my toast myself today”…. Sigh. And sigh again. Seriously – what’s not to LOVE… Read More “You rang, m’lady?”