Category Archives: Writing

The Great Asparagus

Yesterday afternoon was an academic treat. I took a break from dry political statistics of the 1830s and attended a lecture on the legacy of European colonialism by now EU member states. I learned many things I didn’t know – … Continue reading

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Monocular

You know you’re getting old when an eye test involves the word ‘cataracts’. Or when you stare at the floor rather than at the attractive young woman walking towards you on the street because you know she’d wonder why ‘that … Continue reading

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Torny

My body is rebelling. I’d like to have taken it out to enjoy some of the sights and fun of Exeter Pride today but my body is cross with me for spending a couple of days moving about and being … Continue reading

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TFI

Friday, said Mr Kipling, annoyingly because he had nothing to do with my Friday and he doesn’t even exist; he’s just a capitalist chimera masquerading as your elderly, cakey friend. I am your elderly, cakey friend, not him, and don’t … Continue reading

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Scribe-tastic

There are certain pleasures only a book nerd can understand. Going into a library and asking for something ‘from the stack’ is one of my favourites because it means I’m such a nerd that I want to look at or … Continue reading

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Wasn’t Me

I didn’t saw a film today. Oh well. Instead I woke up at five in the too early, said ‘fuck right off’ to the clock face, and went back for more sleep in an unconscious position. That’s my preferred sleeping … Continue reading

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The Life Grammatic*

Something glaringly obvious about me has demanded I recognise it properly again – the process of writing is extraordinarily important to me when it comes to understanding who I am and what sort of relationship I have with my world.  … Continue reading

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