A one word message about #Remembrance
Political mutterings
Farewell to the EU
I haven’t written anything about politics generally or Brexit in particular for a long time now, but I’m sharing this from one of my favourite fellow bloggers. His concerns, by his own admission, aren’t as pressing as those of a someone younger who may be losing the right to live and work elsewhere in the EU, but his sense of despair at the folly of it all is palpable. What are we doing?
I am becoming more and more despondent as the days tick by to 29 March 2018…
It was during a conversation with a Luxemburger whose studio I’d rented for my last walking holiday, that I realised I’d spent my entire adult life as a citizen of, first the European Economic Community, then the European Community and finally the European Union: I was 18 when we joined back in 1973. Although I felt happy then joining all our neighbours in the twelve (as it was then), two years later, in my serious but short-lived very left-wing phase, I voted for us to leave, in the first-ever referendum. We didn’t, I got over it pretty quickly and over the years came to enjoy the – mostly unseen – advantages that being part of the union gave us. Travel gradually became so much easier as borders, though still visible, disappeared in…
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Getting Old and Wearing Purple
Jenny Joseph, feminism and poetry in the marketing mix
Beautiful Souls Create Beautiful Worlds
I’ve been avoiding following the recent news from the US too closely – perhaps feeling that there’s enough similar stuff going on here in the UK. But this post absolutely sums it all up.
She was 32 years old, her favorite color was purple. She was a waitress and a paralegal. She lived in an apartment with her chihuahua, Violet. She loved people and wanted the best for everyone she encountered. She felt the world so deeply that any story of hate or oppression could bring her to tears. She stood up for the things that she believed in. And because of this, she was killed- one week ago today the world lost a beautiful soul to the hands of hate. Her name was Heather Heyer; she was murdered when a car intentionally plunged into a crowd of counter-protestors who were ensuring that their own voices would drown out the hate spewing from the white supremacists who had charged into Charlottesville.
I didn’t know her, but I’ve known countless like her. Her death strikes a deep chord with me because she could have easily…
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George Orwell in Quotes
At 50, everyone has the face he deserves - and other great Orwell quotes
Too Soon to Speculate: thoughts on Grenfell Tower Fire
One simple phrase that sums up what's wrong with our reaction to #GrenfellTower fire
Cry Havoc, and let slip the dogs of war
Shakespeare prophecying doom and gloom
Leave it Jezza, it’s not worth it!
Why I'm switching off the political soap opera
Corbyn and the Match Girls
The tweet that made me quit the Labour Party
Getting mad about #mermaidthighs
So, #mermaidthighs is a thing now. In case you didn't know, if your thighs touch this means you've got mermaid thighs. Unlike #thighgap thighs which have a gap in between, and are - it would seem -last year's thighs. #mermaidthighs is apparently a glorious new internet movement enabling women of all different shapes and sizes to … Continue reading Getting mad about #mermaidthighs