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Showing posts from March, 2013

The Tab and a Path

I was delighted this week to give an interview to The Tab , the student paper, for my old university, UEA (there’s a writing competition to go with it, too). One of the questions related to what I studied and how that helped me on ‘my path to success’. Pretty circuitously, was my first thought.   Having done some soul-searching at A Level, I’d decided to abandon my first love, English in favour of studying something more career-oriented at university. Or so I thought, thus proving the downside of those head versus heart decisions. The head may give you cool, sensible advice, but without the heart’s commitment and passion some of those decisions can ultimately leave you unfulfilled and wondering about what might have been. All the ‘proper job’ years might have been mentally engaging, but my creative writing ambitions gnawed away at me the whole time. Coincidentally - and as a ‘brain rinse’ from writing – I read Rachel Hore’s lovely novel, The Dream House this week, which took

Sleepers Awake!

Those of you who warned me about the stubborn nature of sinus infections were right as I now wade my way through a second course of grim antibiotics. Not much fun, especially in a week which has highlighted the ‘ticking time bomb’ of antibiotic resistance. My daughter, Lily, has sent me some interesting news about an alternative treatment for sinusitis which can only be described – look away if you’re eating – a bogeyectomy. Nice. I shall look forwards to that then. On a happier and far more aesthetically pleasing note, we made it to see Matthew Bourne’s amazing production of Sleeping Beauty at the Millennium Centre. Just. Wet weather, road works and farm vehicles added an extra frisson to the timings of our journey, but we arrived at the venue with ten minutes to spare. Enough time for a comfort break, certainly – but, quelle surprise - I have to run up to the third floor before I find a queue for the Ladies that doesn’t have ten women in front of me and even then it seems

Tubes, Daffs and Ballet

This week , I’ve been clobbered by another sinus infection which I thought I could beat by myself until The Earache from Hell drove me to the GP. Having consumed more  pharmaceutical  weapons of mass destruction than you can shake a stick at, I’m keeping my fingers crossed that I’ll see some improvement. On a brighter note, Friday was our wedding anniversary, Tom filled the house with daffodils and sent me a very beautiful card created from one of his epaintings.   The weather’s been largely dry and bright, but we only managed a short trip out and about because my ear didn’t enjoy the cold very much. Next week , though, we’re doing something I’m very much looking forwards to. The girls and their other halves kindly gave us vouchers for the Millennium Centre for Christmas. Earlier in the year, I was keen to see the Welsh National Opera’s new production of Alban Berg’s Lulu , but the more I thought about, the less inclined I was to brave such a depressing story after a lon