Patchwork Time – for World Mental Health Day

I had a go at stitching my patchwork quilt the other night. It’s pretty old now. Dad gave it to me years ago. I spread it on my bed every year, around the time Dad died, because that’s when it starts getting nippy. Early October. I’ve been meaning to repair it for ages, not wanting…

The Zen Phosphorescence of General Knowing

I was thinking that being 37 is a funny age. But they’re all funny ages aren’t they? Because we’ve never lived them before, so they all feel a bit odd and clunky, like new shoes that need to be worn in. Just as you think you’ve got one era of your life straight you move…

Spat On In A Bookshop

Bookshop. Morning. The shopgirl wipes the spittle from her face as a man in a long black coat beflecks her with the bitty remains of his Full Monty breakfast. “No. Sorry, sir. Still no date on the new Game of Thrones book.” “Well, can’t you have a word?” “With George R R Martin, the author?”…