This is one of my ink drawings, a controversial figure in his time Enoch Powell, I called it “Sins of the Father” it now resides in Australia.
Being a carer was in fact probably the most singly defining, character building experience of my already rather complex, unorthodox life, it was rich and funny and enlightening and pleasurable and solitary and seamless and precious as it was courageous and frustrating, lonely, isolating, haphazard and beguiling and downright bloody irritating at times, we’re not… Continue reading The Caring Years
We had a lovely walk through the forest near our home with the dog today, took some bird seed, it was eerily quiet and so cold for them, hope they found our scattered meals, if not I’m sure the deer will enjoy them, stay warm little birdies xx
It’s coming up to Mothers Day and today it’s the anniversary of my own Mums passing. With hand on heart I can say that I would walk those nine years of caring with her again in a heartbeat but equally I am thankful that the cruelty and distress in relation to dementia is no longer… Continue reading Don’t judge my story by the chapter you walked in on