Failing up

I have been resting from my writing more than usual. This is mainly because of the usual loss of faith in any of my abilities, whether creative, professional or maternal. I never embarked on the more creative endeavour of journalism that I wanted when I was 24, because it was quite likely even when newspapers... Continue Reading →

Wisps of change

I was walking to work through Green Park as usual the other day, early on another sunny morning in what should already be Autumn. It is a strange pleasure wearing summer skirts as m feet brush through the falling leaves. Not exactly unwelcome, but does add to the general sense of foreboding about the future.... Continue Reading →

Lost in nine months

I have started a number of posts recently on a variety of topics, all of them very much in the news, and important. Like how pointless the UN seems to be if it keeps pretending Syria isn't poisoning its own citizens, how maybe Edward Snowden's defection to Russia isn't quite as ironic as all that... Continue Reading →

The fear of change

As ever, when anything changes in my life, I descend into introspection. For no particular reason, I start to find my gilded existence tragic, and turn into a  navel-gazing drama queen, nervously necking champagne at a wedding and sloping off home in tears because they’re playing Oasis and I have just drunkenly stepped on my own... Continue Reading →

Between a rock and a play

I have been terribly remiss in writing anything recently - not even my own paper diary (which contains even more endless chatter than this blog). There are several reasons for this, but the main one is that I went on a rock climbing holiday to Spain, in Gandia near Valencia. I have been climbing indoors... Continue Reading →

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