Multiple sclerosis has stolen by corrosive degrees the very thing that sustained us; it has eroded the passion, hollowed us both out; the outer casing is cracked and does not hold.
Today is dedicated solely to the story about dogs for two reasons. The first is that the illustration of the puppies appears in the dedication of the book, and because I came across a couple of photos of the dogs mentioned in the story, and thought that a spot of colour from some real photos... Continue Reading →
I should finish telling you about going shopping after gardening while still wearing my gardening clothes. My shopping was of the unexciting kind. It involved getting a new gas canister on which the production of hot water in my household is dependent, and putting fuel in my car, on which so many aspects of my... Continue Reading →
My handwriting is very scribbly these days, so here is a transcription of the words on the pink bit of paper: Someone in the tax office today reminded me how much I dislike the sound of finger nails drumming on wood. Since the arbitrary delineation marking the passage of time has recently clocked the addition... Continue Reading →
I was quite conscious that the next story in this potted story of me so far was ostensibly about whisky when I attended the convivial gathering after the English Carol Service in my village on Thursday evening. I cannot claim, despite a burning desire for it to be so, that I experienced the expanded state... Continue Reading →