Dating: A Middle-Aged Widow’s Open Letter To The Man Who Thinks He Wants To Date Her
Dear You, On Dating Again Putting aside the state of my lady parts for a moment, the rub with the whole middle-aged dating thing…
ALL JOURNAL ENTRIES
Tradition, Turkeygate, Tears & Tantrums
I gulped and pushed down tears as my children asked if we could eat out on Christmas Day. Through the din of their reasoning…
When You’re No Longer The Hippest Person In The Room
Hart graduating from university and then leaving almost immediately for New York may have contributed to my recent writer’s block. Afraid to write too…
If We Are What We Routinely Do, Some Of Us Are In Trouble
“Depending on what they are, our habits will either make us or break us. We become what we repeatedly do.” ~Sean Covey The morning routine…
Don’t Stop Me Now, I’m Having Such A Good Time, I’m Having A Ball
I am having a Bank Holiday weekend full of smiles, laughs and out and out can’t breathe hilarity. This coincides with the start again…
First Things First: Why Don’t You Love Me?
My son Hart and his bestie Ciara have a poignant and hilarious podcast called ‘Why Don’t You Love Me?’ “A weekly deep dive into…
Why Am I Telling You This Story, Again?
Lately, me, colleagues and friends, all peers, begin a riotous, sad, pathetic, funny or otherwise tale. We will then typically stop our narration to…
The One Where Valentine’s Day Was A Matter of Life and Death
Neither fire nor wind, birth nor death can erase our good deeds. ~ Buddha I’ve written a couple of times about Valentine’s Day. The…
We Make Plans And The Universe Says “Bog Off”
There are two kinds of people: 1) those who believe everything happens for a reason; and 2) those who stare very hard at people…
When I Grow Up
When I was at school, I wanted to be an actress. This was in the years before we stopped grouping these creatives into male…
On diabetes and finding love in a homeless place
Hart was 12 when his school came down with a virus which felled the students like a raging forest fire. On average, it took…
Who To Call At 4.00 am?
As an early morning riser, I sometimes forget not everyone starts their day at 4.00 am. In this fit of forgetfulness, I have been…
It All Started When I Didn’t Take My Camera On Holiday
It’s been a while since I’ve updated my blog or, indeed, been that much online, and it all started when I didn’t take my…
On Go-Go Hares and Graduations
It’s never too late to have a happy childhood. ~ Berkeley Breathed I first heard the phrase “Once a man, twice a child” from my mother’s lips….
God, I Wish I’d Been More Kate Sutton Growing Up
1 August 2018 – the funeral day for Kate. May she rest in peace. Our love and support are with her friends and family…
Eight Reasons To End A Successful Blog
Have you ever thought about walking away from your blog? Yep, just up and going. See ya. Bloggers before you have done it. I’ve…
What About Tomorrow?
Be where you are, otherwise you will miss your life. ~ Buddha Growing up, my siblings and I were not allowed to refer to…
Nature Will Out
This week, I came to see that in nursing the hole of Bronson’s passing, there were smaller, gaping wounds which had been left to…
By Any Other Name
At a recent hospital appointment, the medical assistant asked my date of birth, which I gave. He looked up and down from his clipboard…
A Hard Habit To Break
I read somewhere that a good habit is as hard to break as a bad one. My morning habit is to rise about 4.30…
Busy Doing Nothing
My version of doing nothing is sitting down to read a book, perhaps whilst having a cup of peppermint or chai tea. I’ll then…
15-Year Old Afro-Caribbean School Girl Yearns For White TV Hair
This personal essay first appeared in Black Hair Magazine on 27 March 2018 and is reproduced this week on my blog as it is no…
A Lady of Letters
I’m trying to remember the last time I hand wrote a letter to someone. Not counting love letters, thank you notes and letters to…
My teenage daughter wrote about leaving her home
A writing prompt on the internet this week (‘Leaving Home’) reminded me of a piece my then teenage daughter Morgan wrote in 2013. She…
The Nature of Forgiveness
To forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover that the prisoner was you. ~ Lewis B. Smedes A business con man I…
The picture of mothering grey
I am 56 years’ old today and recently considered dying my black hair a fashionable grey. That midlife double bluff where people think we…
I threw a pity party last week. No-one came
Since the radiotherapy days, my immune system is not as robust as it used to be and so I caught flu last week. Although,…
On boy bands and gift horses
I went to see a boy band this week. That’s it then, Fargo, I thought, the last bastion of the middle-aged widow: watching a…
The parental super power of stickability
Underneath all the parenting angst, I yearned for the days when my teenager didn’t see me as the enemy, but their go-to person and…
A lifetime of parenting reduced to a mere four words
As parents, we never know how happy we are until “the next thing,” and there is always the next thing. And have you noticed…
A question of legacy
As reading material goes, I’m not big on biographies or memoirs. (The exception so far to my rule is ‘The Glass House’ by Jeanette Walls.)…
Courage doesn’t always roar – or walk over hot coals
My twin sister and I once went to an Anthony Robbins convention. We’d made it to the final day where he was convincing us…
If that fat bird can do it…
I hate pigeons. In my girlhood, someone told me these birds carry 52 communicable diseases. Since that was over 25 years ago, God only…
The Texas Rangers baseball game, the upset child and the lost teaching moment
American sports fans, TV commentators, and the chattering classes in general, were outraged at a Texas Rangers vs. New York Yankees baseball game when…
We’re all stories in the end
Eight years’ ago, Bronnie died and it is something my youngest daughter Morgan said recently which informs my thoughts today. She and her brother recently met…
Coffee house cool
I took up food photography (This Girl Canon) as a hobby for the hell of it. Nothing as elaborate or artistic as some of the…
Strength in worrying less
2017 is the first year I left behind feeling less worried and more accomplished than I have done since Bronson’s death in 2010. Given…
Resentments and red balloons
This week I’ve been practising letting go (again). You know, the coulda, woulda, shouldas we all have in our kit bag as to why…
A contribution to International Day of the Girl
Let’s talk about sex, baby. Let’s talk about you and me. Let’s talk about all the good things and the bad things that may…
Thanksgiving customs… and immigration
Today’s featured picture is one of the blessed views I can now enjoy having made it through US Customs & Immigration for the Thanksgiving…
In praise of the cookie cutters – a tribute
When I am a little down, one of my go-to remedies is my children – in varying degrees of dosage needed. Sensing that his…
The joy of naughty children
On the trip to London yesterday, I had the pleasure of a live performance of ‘Naughty Child Runs Rampant on London Transport.’ There was…
Self-inflicted kindness
A week of old photographs and sepia memories – and staring into that little girl’s eyes for a long time this week, I tried…
A scent of self: Who do you think you are?
The writing prompt I set for Post-40 Bloggers this week is “The cavalry isn’t coming.” I always try to set the weekly writing prompts for…
In pursuit of imperfection
Thursday on my personal Instagram, I posted a picture of a family portrait, which Bronnie, me and two of the children posed for in…
When you can’t give it away
I’ve often wondered how people begging on the streets fare. I’ve wondered about the percentage of people who give, those who give grudgingly and…
All the fun of the fare
A little girl fell over in front of me recently spilling a bag of sweets, which rolled one by one into oncoming traffic. Her…
Surprise!
I’m thinking surprises this week and surprising things. Like finding £20 in a jacket not worn for a while, or rocking up at the…
Giving in to a sense of community
When I left my tiny village for the city a few years ago, I thought there wouldn’t be the same sense of community. And,…
Passing on passwords
There is a password for everything in modern living, and I am baffled as to how we are expected to keep up with the…
The highs and lows of diabetes
10% of every sale in my floral greeting card line (I Miss My Garden Greeting Cards) is put towards supporting children and adults living…
No laughing matter?
After 911, it was said Americans had lost their will to laugh. The comedy circuit stopped revolving and comedians were loud in their silence….
You must remember this?
Bronnie and I would have been married 20 years today had he lived. As we got married on his birthday, he would also have…
Desire to be published killed writing ability
As a freelance writer, it is a thrill when an independent magazine or publication picks up your work, and always orgasm-inducing when said publication…
Adventurous children in an unsafe world
Whatever I was to write about this week has of course been usurped by the terrible events in Manchester. My heart aches for those…
The Super Power of the Invisible Middle Aged Woman
I am definitely at the age I call my ‘Bermuda Triangle Age.’ The age where middle-aged women can often feel invisible. Friday was my…
A vicious cycle
There seems to be something about a cyclist – or a 5ft woman kitted out in fluorescent yellow – which makes some motorists insane. Admittedly,…
Just a girl who can say ‘No?’
Rather bafflingly this week, I accepted an invitation because the person offering would not take ‘No’ for an answer. Baffling because, up until this week,…
In praise of groundhog days
Most weeks, we go through our days like the Groundhog Day movie. We wake up and do exactly the same thing we did the…
And is there manners still for tea?
I meet a lot of people charged with serving the public who are confused on that point. It is only fitting, therefore, when I…
Happy 30th birthday, Robbie
My first memory of Robbie is as a little boy and me trying to take his hand. I’m not sure if he saw the…
Gratitude to those people we want to punch in the eye
I come from a family of talkers. Inevitably when we get together we talk about situations and the day-to-day trials involved in being human….
The Good Samaritan Lite
Mid-week, on the home straight from the morning workout (that is 15 minutes from home and not quite at the vomiting stage), a gentleman…
Wouldn’t take nothing for my journey now
Apparently, a team of brain zappers in Toronto are able to isolate cells that carry fear-based memories. Tested on lab mice, the rodents could…
Falling in love with boredom
Being a goal oriented person, I am committed to regaining my previous levels of fitness, but what about those days when motivation packs its…
Let’s name this day spring
There is always a day each year – not always the same one – I officially name as spring. My favourite season, spring, is…
May we see our children grow old
The first experience of death that really comes close when we are young is traumatic. Years on, watching your child experience the death of…
Femvertising: powerful or phenomenally patronising?
I was reminded this week to go back and examine how I feel about the recent spate of advertisements pushing female empowerment. This Wednesday,…
Portrait of a lady
Long after one has forgotten what a woman wore, the memory of her perfume lingers. — Christian Dior I have a childhood memory of…
Sincerity is subject to proof
Proofing, also known as proving, is the final rise of shaped bread dough before baking. When I was younger and idealistic, I took exception…
A rose on any day smells as sweet
After years of enduring the Saint Valentine’s Day holiday, I may finally be ready to wave the white flag and surrender. Finally listen to…
Calling time on lateness
Our adult ticks are usually rooted in childhood, like our relaxed attitude to tardiness – or not! On one of the first dates with my…
Helping my son play truant
In the beginning it was my husband who did most of the caregiving of the children — school runs, sports days, nativity plays —…
I’m not racist, but…
This week, an emboldened colleague was waxing non-lyrically about the rightness of jobs first for ‘British’ people – his narrative making it clear British…
Inspired to fly solo
Another source of inspiration for me this week came via a customer at work. A nice guy, but not someone I knew well at…
Apparently, you can go home again
This weekend I visited the village that was my marital home for nearly 20 years. Although, I certainly had no interest in actually going…
Come in 2017, we’ve been expecting you
During the hustle and bustle, and for the first Christmas since Bronnie died, I asked a question. What if I re-framed the experience? Wow! I’m writing this on…
Searching for the absence of noise
I would say my apartment is a calm and noise-free zone. Even so, when I tried an exercise of mindfulness, I became aware of…
Reflecting on Word of the Year 2016
What hit my radar this week? Well, I was disappointed to learn that the word of the year, according to Dictionary.com, is ‘Xenophobia.’ The…
When I am an old woman I shall wear silver sneakers
One of the beauties of growing older, for me at least, has been to stop minding what the chattering classes might say about, well,…
The annual family Christmas card
Near as damn it, each year in the summer, Team Fargo UK and Team Fargo US gather at the Little Compton, Rhode Island house….
Taking civil liberties
Although it wasn’t supposed to have gone ‘like that,’ it did at yesterday’s surprising US election 2016 result. Many shenanigans have taken place during…
Giving disguised as receiving
I love to gift, surprise people or give of my time where that is possible. What I’m not so shiny at is receiving gifts…
Empty nest, emptiness and moving on
Today I brought a successful blog to an end. It is not something I saw coming but, as Mary Oliver says in ‘The Journey,’…
Cooking by osmosis
You add a bit of this, then a smidgen of that and, if it needs a little something extra, add some of this. Growing…
Write even when the world is chaotic
I discovered my productivity was better when writing in public and that the end product was not necessarily crap. I used to be a…
You don’t bring me flowers
Now that he’s gone, I do find it hard to receive flowers from anyone else. Before we married, Bronnie used to send me flowers. It…
You can only take 5 memories with you
Before any big event, he would always say “You’ve got this.” That’s a memory I keep with me. Hmm, I’m going away and can…
A matter of time
By about Tuesday, I see visions of a weekend laid out before me like the whitest of 5-star hotel bed linen. Hello, my name…
On life and lemons
It is dangerous to believe we’ve had our share of an ill-wind. That misfortune should stay awhile but then move on and go find someone else. That…