Personal essays from a full and complicated life. Foster caring, a neurospicy household, community, and the things you notice when you stop performing and start writing.
Sunrise, a swim, then half term, two dogs going crackers and a peacock on the car. The real job happens in the middle of the chaos, so your plan had better work in it.
The Peacock on a Car and Other Ways to Start a Monday Read More »
We went to Scotland for a week while my brother went in for major heart surgery. Both things were true from the moment we left until the moment we got home.
Half Way Up a Mountain When the Phone Rang Read More »
A trapped nerve, a dropped pint glass, and a week running on half-speed – and then the sky decided to show off anyway.
Five Hours in A&E and a Very Good Sky Read More »
I turn 51 on Monday. My borrowed son turned 20 on Saturday. We lit a BBQ on bricks that once built a colliery town, nobody planned anything, and the sky did something it does for free.
I didn’t go to the session planning to write poetry. I went because one of my kiddos was there, and an adult had to be in the building. What came out of that hour – the charcoal, the rabbit, the words I hadn’t planned – became something I didn’t expect to make.
Six Sessions, Some Charcoal, and the Collection I Never Planned to Write Read More »
Four days in London for a Punjabi wedding. Phulkari made by my mother-in-law, a birth son holding the cloth at the maiyaan, a foster son eating four jalebis before asking what they were. This is just our life.
New post on the blog.
Someone Put a Lit-Up Gaggar on My Head Read More »
Look at that sky.
That was Friday at five o’clock. Me, at the bottom of the garden, sausage in hand, face tipped up at whatever that was happening above the rooftops. Kiddo toasting marshmallows. Jatinder doing his caveman thing at the barbecue.
That right there is what Fridays at 5pm are for.
He spotted them in the shop. I said yes. We planted onions in April, approximately two months after any sensible gardener would have. They’re sprouting. I have no notes.
We Planted Onions in April. They’re Fine. Read More »
My eldest foster lad is back from uni. The “quiet life” I’d almost convinced myself I was enjoying has packed its bags. Good riddance, honestly. He’s been struggling. After a lot of soul-searching, he made the call to come home. If I’m being straight with you, I have my own thoughts about the decision. I’m
The Beautiful, Exhausting Chaos of a Full House Read More »
The “New Year, New You” industrial complex is in high gear, screaming about military calisthenics, Dry January, and cardboard rice cakes. But trying to “redline” your life in the middle of a literal freeze isn’t motivation—it’s a recipe for a breakdown. Nature is hunkered down protecting its roots, yet we’re expected to sprint. From the biological reality of winter hibernation to the tactical grace needed to manage life’s “shit-storms” and chronic conditions like diabetes, I’m calling bullshit on the January hype. A messy start on a random Tuesday beats a fragile resolution every single time.
The Twixtmas Trap and the Myth of the Fresh Start Read More »
