| 2018 | 12 | 10 | why is batman not manbat? |

I find it a little odd we name animals without asking them first.

I might apply that principle to people around me. 

I shall call you



honest to god I'm sitting here asking the important questions


I think my favourite comment of the week was on a vegetarian facebook page I follow....

'why y'all doing so many vegetarian recipes. maybe consider something with meat in it'




It's almost 2019. I've been doing a lot of planning.

I've also been doing a lot of thinking .

I was put on this earth to look. To have a really good look at things. While you're all out there seeing, I'm looking and doing a damn good job of it. It doesn't matter on what or which scale, the looking can be done in relative intensity, taking in every angle of a leaf or the breadth of the Thames.

Oh she's back to talking about that river again. Classic.

However, for me time passes so infinitely fast during moments of pleasure and catastrophically slowly during those of pain my timeline is confusing and flawed. I lose track of everything, quite often when I'm looking at leaf. The one marked point I can happily refer to is the river, flowing undoubtedly and without change toward the sea.

I know I go on about the Thames. I know that my hobby, my life, is found somewhere along its murky waters. Hours are spent staring into its depths trying to firstly establish the question I'm attempting to answer.

For sure it taps into something primal. Something instinctive. But also. It never lies. It never has a motive, just a journey. It does have secrets, but if you go looking then you will find them.

Here are some more points along that thread.

Time moving slowly. Never before have I seen it inch so achingly round the clock than at a recent funeral. A great man. An inspiring man. A man who in his absence occupies more space than he did when yelling in my face. A man who could, and would, not lie.

To draw parallels between a person, time and the Thames may seem tenuous. But in this wild old world, I actually think it makes sense. sort of. if sense is made without point and purpose. 


| 2018 | 12 | 08 | baked bread and salted butter |

dear stranger I met eyes with in the post office

I wonder what you made of my hair, loosely acknowledging the tie i'd found in the pocket of the pair of jeans i'd pulled from the back of my wardrobe.

now i know why they were there.

I wonder if you could see the tired in my eyes or my frustration at my failing attempts to both hold up my jeans and hold the three parcels in my arms. awkwardly shaped.

I could see you were tired. not the kind of 'up til late partying' tired, but a serious, deep, dog tired. in that split second i could see you looked sad too - past the point of being fed up.

In a way, I wanted to reach out and offer the type of pat on the shoulder my dad so often does when he doesn't have a clue what to say. Like the time he came home from work, found me crying on the kitchen floor surrounded by coco pops and spilt milk (he had the perfect opportunity there too) and knelt down next to me. The sigh, the gentle hand resting on my shoulder then the immediate kettle boiling were the three ways he was telling me he cared, he loved me but it was time to crack on.

She bustled past, and the moment was gone. It's so stark when your bubble bumps with someone else's. We get quite used to overlapping bubbles, integrated bubbles, opposing bubbles, but rarely are they sympathetic bubbles. not as in proffering sympathy, but sympathetic in a way that would suggest they would get along. alike. similar.

- - -

people watching I think, in a weird way, is a very important way to learn.

It's not about judgement. but understanding.

It's about seeing rather than just looking.


I just napped like i died and the whole world is looking a bit more inviting.


| 2018 | 12 | 07 | i'm very sorry |

So these photos don't really have a lot to do with my story. But. I spend a lot of time day dreaming. Probably far too much. I digress, but when I 'glanced' out my window I saw someone cycle past with his left trouser leg tucked into his sock. ABSOLUTE throwback to my dad teaching me to ride my bike. Which I now avoid. 

so this is the queen.

with mister bean. on her head.

i like her. she's some kind of rolemodel for those who were born into privilege which i'll have you know i was moderately. but i am aware of this so I expect the world to give me all the things I think I deserve. like pancakes. and mini waffles. and breakfast. mainly breakfast. did I mention I was STARVING.

I  make porridge because it's the right thing to do. not because it's the nice thing to do.

this is me. if i had ears.

Is anyone else getting the vibe that this post is a kind of show and tell written by a 5 year old. This is this.

I found a map.

It's quite a relevant map to the current times (tee hee). no that's not funny. nor an in joke.

It is tipping it down outside and I'm not entirely sure my car is watertight. or watersafe. 

no that's just my phone lying face down in a puddle. 

can confirm bricks don't float.


| 2018 | 12 | 03 | bump into me and call me daisy |

I'm not sure you know why I'm like this but I am.

I'll be running seminars for these:
'don't touch that it's hot'
'we drive on the left'
'watch out for electricity, it's live 100% of the time'
'how to brush your hair and 30 other things you should be doing as an adult'


speaking of adulting.

I'm categorically failing to comprehend why everyone wants to follow the same rulebook.

I threw mine out my car when reversing through a gap that was, in fact, not the width of my car but around one inch less.

utterly delightful.



How do i begin to sum up my last month or so?

I don't really.

It happened. It wasn't very fun. I'm still not sure what's going to be done next but for now I'm allowed back doing all the things I love .

For example.

There is nothing I can think of that makes me happier than kayaking.

 I love it why? You ask. I know you do.


No matter how hard you try, no matter what you learn, there is always more.


Well actually a fifteen year old said it better than I as we finished our 20 miles paddle together.

'wow. i love being broken. it's the best feeling'.

then she jumped out her boat and essentially napped in the back of a car.

that is what is so addictive though. the ability to push yourself beyond any reasonable level and keep going. nothing beats the k2 when it's flying, but equally the feeling after it's been down is something else too.

you're chasing shadows.