Whines
- Less a whine, more a howl. Stolen girls, stolen lives, stolen education. Bring Back our Girls. No other words.
- I’m disappointed, ashamed, by my inability to cast a vote. A century has not yet passed since people like me got the right to vote. Elsewhere in the world, girls can’t even go to school. People are fighting for their right to vote and for free and fair elections, but here democracy seems to have dwindled to taking your pick from posh boys in all their bland similarity; fine heads of hair and strangely wrinkle-free foreheads. They spin us spineless lines. Taunting one another with rhetoric worthy of the playground, they offer us nothing of substance. I still want Jed Bartlett to rule the world.
- I know it’s natural for cats to kill, but it is heartbreaking when they take down a butterfly.
Rosé
- May’s amazing. Yesterday, everything was promise, and now it’s here -buzzing, vibrating, green, overwhelming life
- Drinking Rosé with old friends, met when our first children started primary school. Joined together at that moment of severance. Now, we are mellower, wiser. We’ve left the playground.
- Despite a disappointing showing in recent competitions, I am writing lots (so piss off internal critic). This, courtesy of another series of inspirational Writing Events Bath Workshops. Meeting some interesting folk too, including the curator of Still Points Moving World which is part of the Bath Fringe Festival.
