All the things I do instead of writing…
I never really know why anyone climbs anything. It's a pleasing movement and sometimes attains views and routes that are inaccessible without ropes and other protection. That is my main goal with climbing, getting somewhere I couldn't otherwise. I can't reach little rock summits in the Alps without a rope, or the amazing finish of... Continue Reading →
Perhaps unfortunately for me, my husband and I differ in our attitude to ageing. He perceives it as an absolute loss of strength, whereas I perceive it as a release from many of the aspirations of youth. It is 30 years since I turned 18, and in another 30 years, I will have reached more... Continue Reading →
Tom Stoppard died in December, which will surely have increased interest in the production of Arcadia opening at The Old Vic in January. I had forgotten what a plush venue it is, with very nice carpets, lots of bars, space and staff. Most theatres in the West End feel incredibly cramped, where you join the... Continue Reading →
Almost as if some fates had read my previous post about Pluribus, I was a few short days later confronted with the real life dilemma of who an individual is, as opposed to the body they walk around in. My husband is not really an adrenaline junkie, in the way most people understand that. He... Continue Reading →
The resting writer 