Month: <span>May 2022</span>

Swimming Me Home

September 25, 2022 2 Comments

Photos my own 30 May 2022 A few weeks ago, I was on a Swim Trek holiday in Mallorca, putting in some training for my “big swim” planned for the middle of July – crossing the Lac Léman/Lake Geneva at its widest point (13 km – a smidge over 8 miles). I do want to […]

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Inspired by Rosemerry’s Daughter

September 25, 2022 2 Comments

Photo by Juliane Liebermann on Unsplash 28 May 2022 I receive – and devour – the daily poems of the poet and storyteller, Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer. I first came across her work through Megan Devine’s weekly and monthly Writing Your Grief prompts. As is the way of the world, once you come across someone’s work, […]

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Comfortably Run

September 25, 2022 4 Comments

All photos my own and Medjool’s 22 May 2022 Edward’s 53rd Birthday Comfortably run. No, not a typo.  Simply a not particularly brilliant nod to Pink Floyd’s “Comfortably Numb”. I do indeed mean that I am comfortably run. By a 10 km road run. I am more than a little bit pooped. I can’t remember […]

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I Still Can’t Much Do Groups

September 25, 2022 1 Comment

Main image by Duy Pham on Unsplash 15 May 2022 I am coming to the end of a lovely short week’s holiday in Mallorca, taking part in an open water swimming camp, geared around being able to swim 10km in “event” (if not “race”) conditions. All meant to be prep for my “big 13 km […]

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Deeply, Genuinely Happy

September 25, 2022 No Comments

Main image by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash 9 May 2022 (and Medjool’s birthday) It’s not the kind of thing that we go around saying, is it? At least not the Brits. At least not most Western Europeans. And at least not on a regular, ongoing basis. Sure – we hear people say it, we might […]

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Humdrum and Bittersweet

September 25, 2022 4 Comments

Main image by Robin Lyon on Unsplash. Other photos my own. 1 May 2022 (My Granny May’s birthday – 1/5/1909 – Happy birthday Granny) As I reflect on what to write about this weekend – which is what I do when nothing immediately springs out at me – it’s about how used I have become […]

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