wry writer

I don’t know why my brain decided 3 minutes after putting my head on the pillow the other night, to suddenly start thinking about dragons, but it did.

Once again, this is my territory, discussing books and authors from way back when the dinosaurs still roam the Earth … B.C. yes, before covid, and well before twitter, computers, and any kind of social media.

pixel area I feel like one of the Chosen Ones, picked to go on a quest, or something esoteric, finding myself over on a very new website whose sole purpose is to connect us all to one another by a single pixel.

I be a Beatle … Well, here we are at the end of August, with a whole month of blogging under my belt, not one day missed.

There’s hot chocolate and then there’s Hot Chocolate.

Today I thought to do my version of Tiny Things I Like and then I thought, why not go big, after all, I’m a BIG kinda Gal.

“There goes the last great American dynasty Who knows, if she never showed up, what could've been …” I’ve become something of a Swifty these last few years, having discovered the singer songwriter during lockdown.

If Curiosity Killed the Cat ( so we’re told, by who, I have no idea) then curiosity for me, as a child and adult alike, enriched my life and made it fuller and more interesting than it would have been otherwise.

Someone recently asked me, what rules do I try to live my life by?

Today is the day I got a second chance when the surgeon—this time last year—removed a foot of colon in order to exorcise a small cancerous growth.

I was reading Craig Mod’s essay, Walking the Length of Manhattan, this morning, which left me wondered about some of the epic walks I’ve done in my life.

These are always fun to do, like a reverse wish list of things you haven’t done yet but, might be tempted to do at some future point.

Reading one of Robert Birming's post, We Live and We Learn, made me think of something my mother once told me and I don't know if it was something she learnt or was told, but I distinctly remember her saying to me one time: One of our greatest gift is our…

I realised something today while sat in the chair at the hairdressers as Suzanne got out the razor.

Dear Writer, While it might be true, you are the next Truman Capote, budding Frank Herbert, or even maybe the Ernest Hemingway.

Today.

It’s raining.

Yes, you read right, I’m feeling sorry for myself today.

I absolutely love the Great British Bake Off so, when I saw this book challenge I though 'yeah, sign me up for that one.'

Sometimes, the best of intentions is not enough.

By the way, we ate here.

I swear on my mother’s grave, I am not giving the stiff finger to Frank here.

I read two very interest interconnect blog posts this morning from Jim Mitchell and Sebastian1, both talking about the why and way they blog.

Yesterday, while most people were off out to go see an eclipse, I went into town (well, okay, the city) to go check out a yearly craft fair held in the old quarter, Plein Arts.

the wolf pack, congress centre quebec city