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On Being Rubbish With Endings…

17th May 2017

You may have noticed I’ve not been blogging all that much of late. I’ve been a bit preoccupied.

Back in February I joined our local Am Dram group, the Duston Players, and somehow I have utterly let it take over my life.

Do not misunderstand me – I have happily dived in and let it consume all my time because frankly I’ve been having the best time.

And tonight sees the shows we’ve been working so hard on come to their inevitable climax – the first of the real performances themselves. You’d think I’d be excited, and a good chunk of me is, but I’m preempting the sadness that will no doubt come after the last performance.

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Love is Love is Love…

17th June 2016

Love is love…

This last week has been horrific – the mass shooting in Orlando, the murder of MP Jo Cox… I’ve shed so many tears I don’t know what to do.

So many people have lost sons and brothers, two very young children have been robbed of their mother, and for what?! The world is a cruel place at times, and I can’t help but feel an immense sense of guilt for bringing X into a place filled with such horrors and atrocities.

The one thing that has come out of these awful events is the overwhelming outpouring of love – Lin-Manuel Miranda’s sonnet at the Tony’s;

We live through times when hate and fear seem stronger
We rise and fall and light from dying embers,
Remembrances that hope and love last longer.
And love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love, cannot be killed or swept aside.

a beautiful sentiment carried out by the passengers aboard a Jet Blue flight to Orlando for the grandmother of one of the men murdered at Pulse, the beautiful tributes to MP Jo Cox, and the amazing, brave, statement from her husband. Proof, as in the aftermath of any tragedy, that there is so much joy and goodness in the world, but we only hear about it when something awful happens. I live in hope that this goodness will win out.

We seem to live in a dangerous time, with the apparent rise of the far right again. How are we not learning our lessons from the past?! The ascent of the likes of Donald Trump and Nigel Farage terrifies me, not only as a woman, a hated, lesser species to these people, but also as a human being, scared for my LGBT+ friends, any of my friends who don’t adhere to their “straight white male” ideal. My son has the privilege of being born a “white male” so, in the face of these troubling times, I am determined he should grow up to be sensitive of this privilege, and use it to make this world a better place.

I’m struggling through a tough time with my health at the moment – drained and weepy most of the time. Yesterday was a bad day for me; X woke from his nap having had a nightmare about me not being there, which broke my heart. We cuddled up on my bed for a little bit to help him calm down, and he noticed I was crying. His little concerned face came very close to mine and he wiped away a tear.


“You sad, Mummy?”

‘I am, little man.”

“Take some deep breaths, Mummy. You’re ok. Don’t worry. I love you”


I have never been prouder to be his Mum than in this moment. He is so full of love and sympathy in a way only a toddler can be, not yet tainted by the ills of the world. I hope beyond hope I can raise this little person to love without fear, to always show empathy and offer help, and most importantly, to always be kind at heart. 


Screenshot 2016-06-17 at 13.48.39

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