Strange Flowers by Donal Ryan.

On a day off work, with our exercise, work and dog walking done, we enquire of each other "are we in?". Yes we are! Gentle music on, dog snuggled on the sofa, books out. Interrupted only by the need to eat. Our two-people-and-a-dog-book-club goes from strength to strength. We very often end up enjoying the... Continue Reading →

When is a blogger not a blogger?

When is blogger not a blogger? A runner not a runner? A writer not a writer? I've been soul searching about questions of my 'identity' for the last few weeks. With the positivity I've been encouraged to nurture I've concluded that, as long as I'm returning to any of these, that's enough to still 'be'.... Continue Reading →

Never be the same again….

Sat not three feet from the gently rippling Caribbean sea, I turned the last of the 415 pages of Preparation For The Next Life by Atticus Lish. As a few beads of sweat from the wonderful, sweltering heat dripped onto the cover as I gazed at it in awe, I'm sure there was a tear... Continue Reading →

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