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I guess I don’t get to list all the people I’m so glad to know and see — again. But I do want to express one thing: welcome back Deborah! She’s moved her site. And I for one am breathing a sigh of relief. Life without Deborah’s sparkle hardly bears thinking about.

I’m hanging onto your sparkle, Deborah….



I’ve progressed from pedometer to gym. Oh yes I have. So far (okay, two days in) I absolutely love it. I know I’m behind with this. I know it. Don’t write and tell me. But being inside my own music, cycling, or doing the dreaded chin-ups…It’s not that far off my all time favourite activity, now limited by my knees. I can deal with hard work to good music, anyway.


I am not doing any writing. Just thought I’d make that clear. I could list everything else I’ve done — a chicken without the proverbial, in truth — but the heart of the matter is pretty simple. If I don’t make space soon, there’s not going to be much reason to carry on doing much of anything.

Any five minute a day bright ideas? I need a writing personal trainer. Embarrassingly, I’ve let myself go. To rack and ruin.

1) Been thinking about twins. Somehow, and for no clear reason. Except that weeks ago I saw what appeared to be twins (women) both running (separately, one behind the other) for a train in Charing Cross Station. And that day before yesterday I thought I walked past two shopping twins (women again), one with a young child, looking at face creams. And today I maybe saw the same two maybe women twins on Canterbury High Street, walking briskly. Maybe not. You’d think I’d know for sure. But I don’t. I’m wondering if it’s not unusual for me to be in an almost constant state of double take.

2) The number of people working on the house today all at once: 6

3) The number of posé turns I did across the floor in ballet: at least 50. No wonder I’m seeing twins.

4) Hauled a chest of drawers up three steps on my own. Last time I did something like that was 15 years ago, when I carried a different set up an entire flight single-handedly. Nevertheless, proud of myself. Even if R, E, and M might not like it in the sitting room.

5) One of the six men in my house today fixed the tumble dryer. He’d been round to fix the oven last year, and the washing machine several years before that. You’d think therefore that we had a relationship of sorts. Well, no. Despite five others being in the house — in the same open space indeed, talking and joking — I couldn’t entice him to a single off the cuff remark. He did inform me though that the thermostat had gone, in his opinion, because the filter was bunged up. He lifted it up to show me: should be able to see through there. Oops. I tried to tell him, my voice no doubt trailing off, that I did sometimes carry it up to the shower…I did, um, try. He remained unmoved.

6) Another of the men in my house today was the template person. Whenever I asked if something were possible, he replied with a resounding yes. I liked that. We should all be so lucky.


From January 2010, my new blog is Waving and Drowning


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Who am I?

A writer born in Texas, who grew up in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia (yes, like the song), and who's been living in the UK since 1988. I've published two books (see below), and teach creative writing at the University of Kent. I'm married to a composer, and we have two young children. See About for my full profile.