the day after the night before
Itas always interesting - the day after a party - piecing together the memories of the night before. The laughter, the stories, the friends, the music, and t...
Recent Posts
a bit of dolly
Our youngest daughter turned 18 today. How did that happen? How did the little girl who couldn’t walk so well and couldn’t talk so well get to be a grown up?...
coffee oclock
While busy minding my own business yesterday evening, an email arrived in my in-box notifying me that “Substack Notes” had been unleashed on the world. I had...
strange dreams
I had a dream last night that has been rattling around my head all day. When I woke, it took a few moments to gather my thoughts - to re-construct the real f...
who knows
I used to write almost every day. Iam not quite sure what happened. Perhaps life happened. Itas a funny thing a life a isnat it. John Lennon is famously supp...
The Coffee Shop Intervention Requirement
Several days have slipped past since I wrote anything of consequence. Once again I find myself sitting in the dark of the junk room, propped in front of the ...
it never ends
After a long and somewhat idiotic search over the last several years, I appear to have found a half-decent text editor for writing purposes that doesn’t anno...
Explaining my Recent Absence
The clock is ticking towards midnight once more. You find me sitting in the dark of the junk room once more. Perhaps I should stop calling it the ajunk rooma...
Half Past My Bedtime
Somehow itas almost 1am on Friday night (or should that be Saturday morning?). Where does the time go? Iam struggling to cast my mind back over the last few ...
awkward
I just wrote a somewhat awkward agoodbyea message over at Substack, where I had been experimenting with writing personal blog posts for the last several mont...