Ten Things of Thankful 137 (On time…) #10Thankful

I’m at the table in the breakfast room, freshly washed and pyjama-d. It’s Thursday evening as I write this, and I’m calm, which is truly delightful. This time last trip, I was stuck, panicking, blowing grape-flavored* Hubba-Bubba-Tantrum-Bubbles, wrapped in my kaftan, being talked through the process by my wonderful amazing BlogWife, Beth. “Just do the…

Read me…

Read me… The silent plea of every writer who puts words to page, whether in ink or pixels.┬áRead me… I wasn’t going to write, or, rather, I intended to write something else, then found myself distracted by the idea put forth that all of us here, write to be read. Yes, to an extent we…

A whodunnit

It was a ‘whodunnit’ of Hercule-Poirot-ean proportions, but viler and more violent than Ms Christie tended to write. As a rapid response paramedic, Tom was used to seeing the gore and guts of a situation gone badly awry, and was even used to milling around with the ‘boys in blue’ (black, these days, with luminous…