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The oncology meeting: the real truth about a cure for cancer

By on Nov 20, 2017 in Blog Posts, Cancer, Fiction, Writing bits and bobs | 4 comments

“Why don’t we just tell them the truth?”  Asked the intern…

The Handkerchief

By on Nov 12, 2017 in Blog Posts, Spring, Writing bits and bobs | 3 comments

“Hands, hands, handkerchief!” The woman demands in a Scottish accent. She’s standing next to the chocolate brown painted hand-rail at the top of the stairs and blocking the route down.

Messing about in water

By on Sep 13, 2017 in Blog Posts, Spring, Writing bits and bobs | 2 comments

An honourable mention in this month’s writing challenge. The challenge was 250 words featuring something to do with water…

Jane Pickard’s Bicycle

By on Aug 7, 2017 in Blog Posts, Writing bits and bobs | 1 comment

Jane Pickard lived down the road from me as a kid. Her Dad was the local plumber and they lived in a big rambling house that he was refurbishing. The house sat back, across a gently banked field from the lane into the valley. For a time, in the summer of 1980, Jane and I were friends. I played my first game of pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey at her birthday party. I squealed with terrified delight and had my head chopped off there playing oranges-and-lemons at that same party. I don’t remember if Jane didn’t have ponies or if it was just that her access to riding was less free than mine. I do remember dropping in on horse-back and feeling a self-satisfied superiority on the horse front in general. But it bicycles not ponies that moved our friendship. To an outsider my bike was a hand-me-down from my brother. To me it was an honour bestowed upon me by my older, wiser and infinitely more...

The brother-in-law who got away

By on Jul 18, 2017 in Blog Posts, Cancer, Writing bits and bobs | 1 comment

On Friday I heard the news that Ewan Moffet, Phil’s friend and ex-boyfriend had lost his battle with cancer.

For me, Ewan will always be  the brother-in-law that got away. It’s not surprising then that my most vivid memory of him occurred when he wasn’t there in person.

Romany Cream: lost in the Highlands

By on Jun 9, 2017 in Blog Posts, Writing bits and bobs | 1 comment

“We are either here,” Pauline is still panting from the strenuous hike we’ve made along a stony game path up the mountain. She prods at our sodden Ordinance Survey map, “or here.” She points to a different spot. “If we are here, we still stand a chance to make the time cut off.”