You know ... I used to say “if only I could have a pound for every compliment I receive for them red shoes.” However, over the last few weeks it would be for each time someone has said to me “Gosh ... doesn't time fly ... where did that year go ...?”
These comments have left me rather bemused ... wondering whether I am looking so good now that people have forgotten what has featured in my…
The miles and miles of vines had expired and we were skirting one of those non-descriptive industrial French towns ... so unremarkable I can’t remember its name. We were on the way to a medieval fort up in the mountains.
“I am glad we are going out for the day” said S, “I couldn’t do another day on the beach, it is far too hot. Besides ... I am starting to look like a Sambo.” “…
My mother died 14 years ago, aged 53, of ovarian cancer. She had been diagnosed five years before ... but to be truthful the cancer had probably been there since her early forties, when she was a similar age to me. For a year or two they had said she was peri-menopausal and by the time they realised the real problem, and operated, the tumour was the size of a melon.
I wore a pillar box red jacket to my mother’s funeral…
Well, actually I am not one in a million ... I am one in 28 million. What I am not sure about is whether that makes me more or less special ....?
Last weekend saw the end of the Tour de France. Yes, I know what you are saying. “Tour de France?! What is she on?" That it is up there with my admission about my fondness for fishing.
OK – your thought processes? “Tour de France? No! Oh but hang on there…
