Two years ago I went to a friend’s cottage with a few other women. While I didn’t know all those invited, it was … nice. That was the first and only time I’d gone away without family, D, or the kids since university in Wales. The cottage weekend was good, yet I long for something… Continue Reading
Tag Archives: Wales
Trappist monks make good beer. True story.
First we visited the far south of France then we headed north. Not parka north, but roaring fireplace north. What the what? The temperatures in the northern regions of France have been unseasonably cold and wet this summer. I think I was designed for southern climes, although murk and mist have their own charms. There’s a… Continue Reading
The problem with books
I don’t do drugs. I don’t drink. Well I do. Drink that is, but not an unreasonable amount. I buy books, compulsively. There’s no help for that. And even if there were I’d refuse it.
I can and will read almost anywhere, in the car while waiting for the kids, at the rink, in trees – when I was younger. Anywhere except walking down the street. I saw a woman reading while walking today. She had a confident, fast-moving stride and was entirely engrossed in her book. I’m not that talented. I would be sprawled on the pavement. The contents of my bag rolling across the street causing dangerous road conditions. My arms bent at odd angles in a vain attempt to protect the book and my face. But I would certainly not be striding gracefully, intently reading.… Continue Reading