Tag Archives: writing

River of Stones XXIII

Posted on 23/01/2012 by

Monday is catch up day: ‘my’ day, with family duties fitted in as required. Morning: I have re-joined a writing class, after a term off, but the tutor has changed. This was my second Monday this term. The tutor we … Continue reading →

Posted in creative writing, Small stones, Thinking aloud | Tagged , , , , , | 6 Comments

Well, what have YOU achieved today?

Posted on 10/10/2011 by

Mondays is a ‘day off’ for me. Before this current term I had been attending a class I for about two years,which took up most of Monday mornings, in another town about 15 miles from here. I often didn’t get … Continue reading →

Posted in creative writing, Humour, Thinking aloud | Tagged , , , , | 30 Comments

“Thistle do?”

Posted on 01/08/2011 by

I have decided I need another job. By that I mean an additional job – one that’ll take up my current days off. But I don’t want to nurse on these days, I want to try something else. (I am … Continue reading →

Posted in compassion fatigue, creative writing, District Nursing, Nursing, Thinking aloud | Tagged , , , , , | 21 Comments

And today?

Posted on 12/07/2011 by

This evening I have been at my writing group at one of the colleges in Oxford. Entering the college is like going into another world: this sensation starts with a phone call to the college porter’s desk and a request … Continue reading →

Posted in Cooking, creative writing, Humour, Thinking aloud | Tagged , , , , | 8 Comments

On being a judge

Posted on 10/07/2011 by

It can be very difficult to be a judge. To paraphrase Abraham Lincoln you can please some of the people all of the time, but you can’t please all of the people all of the time. Yesterday a version of … Continue reading →

Posted in creative writing, Photography, poetry, Thinking aloud | Tagged , , , , , , | 9 Comments

The Old Sailor

Posted on 17/03/2010 by

The Old Sailor At the window he is outlined by lightning each time it picks at the horizon. His muscles, ribbed with veins distort his arms and push against the fabric of his shirt. His image in the black glass … Continue reading →

Posted in creative writing, poetry | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments