I will find you in this life,
the next and in every form that follows. 
If I am the dust on the wind, I’ll settle by 
your side and whisper to you in the quiet.
If I’m a leaf on the autumn wind, I will drift closer
Just to be next to you. 
In each new world, no matter the shape or form I take. 
I’ll keep coming back to you.
And I’ll carry this love. 
Across all the lifetimes that is ours.
Across every rise and fall. 
You, always you.


Today, this poem appeared as I scrolled social media .... how perfect.    

Today, I took myself off for a 'breakfast treat'. It’s been a while since I did this, or even had time to enjoy such a leisurely start to the day. 
 
I ate my breakfast alfresco-style at a high street café, whilst people watching and reading my book. Seeing each store prepare to open for business reminded me of my bank clerk days when I was just eighteen. We’d arrive when the street was sleepy and quiet, with only dustbin men and window cleaners sharing our space, yet come nine o’clock the street would be bustling. This street was no different. It reminded me of the opening scene of the film Notting Hill.
 
I spotted a friend. They were in a world of their own happily strolling down the street, minding their own business and enjoying the sunshine – which was wonderful to see. It was strange seeing someone’s psyche spot my presence before they actually noticed me. It just shows how our sub-conscious is wired.
 
I saw some beautiful dogs being walked ahead of the day’s heat, especially the dalmatian and so many sausage dogs! I spoke to random strangers, who I don’t know from Adam but clearly, they felt the need to speak - I wished them a good day. I even spoke to a purple dinosaur!
 
I’ll admit, I enjoyed the hour of sitting and observing before taking a stroll around the craft stores - so much talent and inspiration surrounds us, if only we look. 
 
After my morning’s treat, I came back home for a day of writing – hoping to complete a specific scene before the day is through. Plus, a promise to myself to put ‘breakfast treats' back into my routine. 

At 1am this morning, I stood on my front drive looking at the terraced house, five doors down, that was on fire. I kid you not, a total blaze. The street was filled with fire engines, police cars and shocked neighbours.
 
It was a frightening scene. 
 
Your heart goes out to the young family, who I later learnt were away on their annual holiday. Your brain immediately puts yourself in their shoes. To lose a lifetime of items must be heart breaking. The photographs, the documents and the memorable items that can never be replaced – simply gone!
 
Today, a strange silence has descended upon our street – plus, there’s a blackened house that has drawn quite a crowd of passing sight-seers, be it on foot or those slowly driving passed.
 
This afternoon, I saw the young couple, returning from the airport, to be advised by the fire officer of a sequence of events. Devastating.
 
The realities of life, hit home, as we each count our blessings.
 
Should the unfortunate ever happen to me – I know what I’d grab:
 
My dog
My three tortoises
A white tissue – kept in the back of my purse
A bracelet - a family heirloom
My laptop
My first school photograph, aged five
 
The rest would be left behind.

At the weekend, I took an unexpected trip to Todmorden, West Yorkshire but despite it being a fleeting visit, we – Teddy and I nipped to visit the Centre Vale park in search of the ‘lucky’ dog statue. Made infamous in 2011 by Derren Brown, the illusionist, when he spun the myth as part of his tv series. I watched the original airing of this programme and remember the joy brought to the community. 
 
I’ve always considered myself to be a ‘lucky’ person but I couldn’t pass so close without visiting the statue.
 
Teddy struck a pose, though they look like book ends! 
 
If you haven’t seen the episode, here’s a link: Youtube www.youtube.com/watch?v=RuRGzZAk7S4

Life is a sequence of repeating cycles and this week sees the beginning of another cycle for me. I have 147 days to find a new home! This tiny miner’s cottage was only ever to be a stepping stone towards my forever future and so, my search begins.
 
I know what I need and what I’d like. I need a writing room downstairs to aid and ease Teddy’s old age, a view of a garden and large windows, enabling lots of natural light. I need a passing road, not a court yard or a cul-de-sac location, where life trundles by offering me surprises and observations throughout each day. I need a separate lounge into which I can escape after a day at my desk to enjoy my array of books and houseplants, without being reminded of the current project. I’d like a patch of grass that my tortoises can utilise and which aids Teddy’s aged limbs while he plays football or fetch. 
 
I can’t say I relish the idea of packing removal boxes; it feels like yesterday that I unpacked ‘the final box’ for this home. But time flies and I’m ready to move on. 
 
And so begins my search, knowing that I will spend Christmas day in a new home – a repeat of last year’s situation. I’ll attempt to ensure that my Christmas tree is the first delivery to the address, just like it was in December 2025.

Today, I attended crown court to witness the sentencing of the case for which I was 'madam foreman' in June. I sat alone in the jury box, as no one else attended. I felt honoured to attend in order to support a young woman who had been so brave. In June, she'd attended court on her own, no family or friends to support her. After which, we, the jury, delivered 'guilty' on two counts.

Today, I returned, to show that people do care and believe her account. She was so emotional whilst giving her personal impact statement. Thankfully today, she did have some family support plus, that of a juror who wishes her well for a happy and prosperous future!

He received a two year custodial sentence. The judge actually said 'Take him down!' - which seemed like a line from a movie, but so it was! I left knowing justice had been served.

Today, I purchased the most neglected aspidistra that I have ever seen. I don't need any more aspidistras for my collection but on spying this particular plant - it needed rescuing, so I bought it. I actually laughed out loud at myself!

​It should be arriving on 14th July and I will share photos. Brace yourself, folks - this plant needs a miracle if it is to survive!

My ethos is everything deserves the chance of life!


Part 2 of rescue mission.

The poorly aspidistra arrived a day late on 15th July, as the photographs below shows it was wrapped in brown paper and placed inside a box - hardly suitable for a plant. You'll see that the plant I saved from its current owner literally has one burnt leaf, one broken stalk and a new leaf that is partly unfurled! That's it - which is exactly why I bought it.

I carefully removed the lose soil, checked the root structure and cut away several dead stalks that were hidden in the soil. I was thrilled to find a tiny shoot just beginning to grow from the rhizome. I've said it many times before - how can something be so neglected yet, it shows signs of trying to survive!

I allowed the plant to soak in cold water for a fair while before repotting it in fresh soil, then I sliced the length of brown scorched leaf away, so only healthy growth remains. This tiny plan hasn't had a healthy existence but I'm hoping that changes from today. It looks totally out of place but I've placed it amongst my aspidistra collection - I'll give you an update in time.

This blog has been available since 2015, enabling me to share my journey with followers from around the globe. Many of my followers are readers or writers who drop by for regular updates. Recently there has been a different kind of follower, who's not interested in my journey but rather their own money making schemes - I'll politely call them 'business followers'. It has become a social irritation in many people's everyday life, but now blog posts are being targeted. 

Each day, I delete countless adverts and suspicious links which these 'business followers' attempt to add via comments to each of my blog posts.

If they did their research they'd notice not one of my blog posts has comments published, not one! But still they chance it each day that I might make an error and post their advert for the services they offer.  

I won't and don't publish any comments. This enables my genuine followers to safely visit this site knowing that their computers can't be hacked or compromised via suspicious links.

The sun is shining, there's no more classes till September and I've collected a stash of books from the local library which means I am officially in summer holiday mode! It feels wonderful to have several glorious weeks stretching before me in which to write.

With Teddy, the dog, being as elderly as he is I have no desire to jet off on holiday and leave him, so we'll take the odd day trip here and there. I may choose an item from my bucket list or simply load the car with supplies and take a road trip of discovery to who knows where! Either way we'll be free to do as we wish without teaching commitments.

My current writing project is growing in interest and I'm hoping to complete the vast majority over the coming weeks - though it'll feel strange having a new routine, again.  

I rarely discuss the reading books that I’m enjoying, I tend to keep my thoughts to myself. In recent years, I’ve protected my enjoyment of reading due to being bombarded with third parties’ opinions about ‘must read’ books that failed to hold my interest. This resulted in me entering a lengthy reading lull that quashed my lifelong love of reading. Now, I only read what I intrigues me. The Names is one such book.
 
The book blurb from Amazon reads:
It is 1987, and in the wake of a great storm, Cora sets out with her young daughter to register the birth of her son. Her husband expects her to follow tradition and call the baby after him - but is it right for her child to inherit his name from generations of domineering men? Her choice will shape the course of their lives. 

Seven years later, her son is Bear, a name chosen by his sister, hoping he will grow up to be brave and big-hearted. Or he is Julian, the name his mother set her heart on, keen for him to become his own person. Or he is Gordon, named after his father and raised in his cruel image - but is there still a chance to break the mould? 

Powerfully moving and full of hope, this is the story of three names, three versions of a life, and the infinite possibilities that a single decision can spark.
 
A definite page turner which I can relate to. Going through life, I’ve had various nicknames and versions of my name used by specific people. I’ve also had names that I couldn’t relate to and didn’t use. There have been folks, who continued to address me by using these unused names as if maintaining a mini protest to my personal choice – seventeen years was the longest protest! The relationships that I’ve trusted the most have used the same name and as life has gone by, I’ve even noticed some people never say my name. They simply stare at me, gain my attention and then speak. Those are the folk that when occasion forces them to say my name make it sound like a concrete breeze block jammed between their dentures! I can never unhear how they pronounce the name which I love.  
 
When I was teaching in secondary schools, I used to teach Shakespeare’s ‘Romeo and Juliet’ which was a delight, as pupils gained the confidence to discuss the themes and motivations within the play.  I dearly miss teaching my lesson around Juliet’s speech and the lively debates that occurred:
 
O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?
Deny thy father and refuse thy name.
Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love
And I’ll no longer be a Capulet.
‘Tis but thy name that is my enemy:
Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.
What’s Montague? It is nor hand nor foot
Nor arm nor face nor any other part
Belonging to a man. O be some other name.
What’s in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet;
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call’d,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes
Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,
And for that name, which is no part of thee,
Take all myself.
 
The pupils would launch into listing their ideal names, nick names and the relationships they encountered through versions of their own name. The love or hatred that can be attached and upheld for a certain name based on experience – no, amounting of debate could change those steadfast on disliking what they disliked. 
 
And so, this reading book has struck a chord with me as the plot weaves between the three names Gordon, Julian and Bear – each name providing a very different life for one tiny child. I’m half way through and yet, I know I’ll be slowing my reading pace as I reluctantly reach the end.