Adulthood Non-fiction Observations

In case anyone is interested…

In case anyone is interested, I am a little nervous

About the easing of restrictions and the opening of the world again.

In case anyone is interested, I can’t get fully excited

About social events, big events, because there is always the risk looming.

In case anyone is interested, I may still wear a mask

To protect others, to protect me, to feel safer and secure in environments.

Environments we’ve not experienced ‘normally’ in well over a year

In case anyone is interest, I am going to take it steady

With life, in work in all that I do.

In case anyone is interested, I am going to allow

Allow for tiredness, feeling intimidated, overwhelmed, all of those feelings that come with this.

This thing we are living through that nobody quite understands

In case anyone is interested, I get it

I get why the government feel there is no other option, why now is time.

At some point we have to move on, to continue, to live with it

In case anyone is interested, I find writing therapeutic

So much creativity will come out of these times, some bad some good.

In case anyone is interested, I will always remember

These times, those lost, key workers, inspirations along the way.

If you’re not interested, that’s fine. Move on.

If you are please stay, I have lots to say!

(blogging weekly, Instagramming even more)

For links to all of my writing related stuff, my link tree is below. You can also find published work in my portfolio. My debut novel, Dear Brannagh, is OUT NOW. If you enjoy what you’re seeing here and are interested in following me on my writing journey as I self-publish novel number two, then please subscribe to my newsletter by filling in the form at the bottom of any page of my website. Thank you x

Adulthood Non-fiction Observations Writing

Where I’m at…

I couldn’t think of a blog topic this week. I think it is because my head is so busy. It makes no sense really as I’d have thought the busier my head, the more ideas flowing about. In fact it is the opposite. I have nothing.

Instead I thought it would be an interesting exercise to write down where I’m at. A stream of conscious style piece. My exact thoughts and feelings at the very moment.

Here goes…

Today I am in a good place. I’m feeling positive despite the news. Having just enjoyed a lovely cuppa accompanied by a slice of raspberry flapjack, I am feeling very content.

The week has been busy so far. We’re not even half way through and I’ve written an article for publication in a glossy mag, organised a giveaway and not completely failed at wrapping some presents on top of working full time. Not bad.

It’s birthday week. I’m feeling good about my twenty seventh trip around the sun. Being twenty five has been different to say the least. A global pandemic would make it somewhat different, obviously, but there have been plenty of good bits.

  • The summer was hotter than usual.
  • I noticed more, especially the birds and nature.
  • Appreciation has been a constant throughout.
  • My managerial development has come on.
  • I’m a published author!

Bring on twenty six.

I am on my break from work and as soon as I got in I put my sausage dog in his harness and took him for a walk. He’s in training. Though he is almost two. He gets very anxious about walking on his own. Put another person or dog into the mix and he is immediately fine but alone he is terrified. I’m trying to fix this. We didn’t get very far at all but we got further than the last time. Progress. Positive progress is what it is all about.

I have a longer break today and it is lovely. There we go with appreciation again. I’ve not had a day off in over a year which I think has made me more grateful for time off. Time out. Even just an hour to myself is total bliss.

I’m reading Us Three by Ruth Jones. It is a great escape. A huge page-turner. Perfect for these times. I have plenty of break left today so I think I’ll continue to indulge in escapism. I love reading and I love books.

There, that’s where I’m at.

All blog posts can be found at and to read my published work visit my portfolio. My debut novel, Dear Brannagh, is out now.

fiction Stories Writing


(a snippet of)

Chapter 6, Erin

Orange. The entire room had a glowing tint of orange and when we walked in, I hadn’t ever thought of orange as a particularly warming colour, but my mind was more focussed upon mum’s behaviour in a public setting so most of my attention was on that. Saying that though, the orange wasn’t a bright and garish tone of orange like that of my hideously decorated bedroom from the age of seven to ten years old, but rather that of a golden glow just like the sun makes on a summers evening. Golden hour. The incense sticks in each corner of the small and cosy space added to the calming feeling as did the instructor asking us politely to remove our outdoor footwear and place them in the closet before entering the room. It made it feel like home.

I had never met the lady who was going to take our class before, but Eileen assured me that she was lovely and a very good yoga teacher because she used to take Eileen’s classes when she first moved here until Eileen stopped attending due to stress. In fact, the whole idea to go was down to Eileen, I usually avoided taking mum out in public nowadays and preferred to restrict our time together to when we were alone. Outside of her room but still alone. I like it that way and I can relax properly to enjoy the time that we had instead of constantly being on edge due to not knowing when she would lash out or do something crazy.

With our socks, shoes and bags safely stored in the closet we entered the room and each chose a mat next to one another – I was in the middle. Beside my mum were another two people and that made up our class which pleased me. I was nervous about doing yoga for the first time, so I was happy with it being a class of five.

We all sat cross legged on our mats which each had a block and a sort of miniature bean bag placed at one end and a human sized elastic band type piece of equipment next to them which I was very curious and slightly worried about being the least flexible person ever. However, I had promised Eileen that I would keep an open mind about it all, so I just went with it, ready to participate in all that the instructor told us to do.

Mum wasn’t making eye contact with the yoga teacher which made me realise that she hadn’t made eye contact with neither me nor Eileen since we picked her up. That wasn’t so unusual to us, it may be to the other people in the class though. Instead she looked awkwardly at the floor and picked at her hand which was a gesture she did when nervous. It was a gesture I didn’t mind though as I had to accept that she would be nervous when in public for a while and she wasn’t acting too crazy so to me it was ok for her to be that way.

Adulthood Non-fiction Writing

In all of this breathe in the good and breathe out the bad…

I was walking home this morning from some friends who let me stay.
My sister has just arrived home from Mayuma and so near to her I do not wish to be!
She must quarantine for two weeks and before then she needed my bed.
So I had to ask my dear friends if I could stay at theirs, somewhere to rest my head.

The shop has been so frantic the past few days so after six we simply crashed.
A few beers in us and a quick but yummy tea what was on the tele mostly trash.
So we slept and recuperated for the community needs us to be around. Morning came, a delicious breakfast and then I walked out into the Sunday morning sound.

Fresh air and peace and spring time sunshine and smells.
The beautiful colours, the wonderful noises, the happiness it all brings. Walking along, breathing in and out I thought to myself in all this mess.
Life goes on, the flowers grow, the birds tweet and lay their nests.

So soak it in as much as you can, I thought, for this too will pass.
Life will go back to functioning, one day, and with our changed perspectives perhaps, peace will last.

Adulthood Non-fiction Writing

I think I had a bad dream…

I think I had a really bad dream the other night, I woke into a world where everything had gone wrong,
There was this virus that was spreading faster than anyone could handle and people were suffering, the figures rising on and on.

Other countries ahead of us were breaking news so scary to hear,
It was like watching our lives before it happened and knowing exactly what to fear.

It was like a film, still is, it doesn’t seem real,
Happy, full of gratitude and luck, I don’t know how else to feel.

Self isolation, quarantine and social distancing were the measures,
Pub closures, restaurants, any place where people gathered.

Life as we knew it was put on hold,
Stick to the advice we were told.

So, tell me, what will go down in history, how did we react?

Flocking to supermarkets and buying everything off the shelf,
First it was toilet rolls, then pasta, paracetamol, eggs and bread all those in good health.

While others at home struggled to get the goods,
Those who really needed them, they were stuck in the hood.

So Boris tried again, he came on tele to simply say:
Stay at home, please everyone. Unless it’s essential take another day.

Thankfully the situation appears to be improving,
Though the queues in the supermarkets, I’ve heard, are not moving.

The shelves are filling slowly and essentials many are able to get,
The round of applause on Thursday evening is something most will never forget.

Community is coming together and kindness is appearing near and far,
Just think, please, before you get in your car.

It’s for the wellbeing of the world, we must abide,
Stay at home, support the NHS, and help to save lives.

fiction Stories Writing

Dalliance (Part 3)

He was the first person to decide things for her. He was the first to control when she got up, what she did in a day, what time she left to go home and what time she would be going out again. He didn’t much care for fashion and particularly liked her style, it was one of the things he pointed out at the early stages when he was still trying to chat her up, but if anyone decided fashion for her then it was him. He controlled everything and in waiting on his command for them to leave the field she contemplated when and how it had happened this way. For the first time since her eyes clocked him in the office three months ago, part of her felt ashamed for letting this happen.

‘Ok, now we can go,’ he instructed.

‘What if I want to stay here a little longer,’ Lisa replied, with a flirtatious tone to her voice, not meaning a word of what she was saying.

‘Then you can stay here on your own.’

Sometimes Lisa got frustrated at how Darren held so much control over her and she thought about this as they walked hand in hand back into the city, knowing that this action must stop when they reached the second bridge. As they walked the same feeling that filled Lisa whenever in Darren’s company trickled through her body. A smile covered her face and warmth was felt in her heart, his hand strong in hers. The temperature of the air felt hot on their skin too as if they were on holiday in Barcelona and heading for the next bottle of under-priced wine.

The memory of how perfect their evening had been deflected all of this frustration and she forced herself to allow the worry to leave with it and merely enjoy the moments that they had left before they both returned home. Home to their individual apartments on different streets with different families to care for. It was gone ten, but Lisa would still have to contend with Mollie’s nightmares that were happening on repeat lately and Darren would return to a peaceful household, ready for his one-year old’s morning cries at around three o’clock in the morning.

fiction Stories Writing

Dalliance (Part 2)

Tonight’s spot was a darkening skyline, an empty field and spiky grass on their bottoms. They had forgotten a blanket, or rather they intentionally didn’t bring a blanket for fear somebody would notice their plan and follow them. They always wished to be alone on these special occasions.

The sunset had been and gone in its deep orange glory and they had both captured it on their phones, purposefully not capturing an image of the two of them gazing into it and ensuring that they posted the pictures online at very different times. They felt a sunset post on Instagram looks far less suspicious than a selfie of the two of them, plainly stating their actions, but the memory of a wonderful time would still be there, captured on their phones.

‘Come on, Daz, we really should get going,’ said Lisa, noticing the dark and pre-empting the questions that she would receive on her return home.

‘Please. One moment more.’

Once again Darren’s authority had won her over and she remained seated for half an hour longer than she would have done if on her own.

Lisa had always been such an independent individual and never relied much on anyone else. Throughout her education she was thoroughly organised and depended only on herself for answers. She had a perfected morning routine from the age of ten which included making her own breakfast, her own lunch and her parents a cup of tea each, just the way they liked it. This ritual wasn’t even instigated by her parents because by the time she reached the age when they would have encouraged independence she already had so much so didn’t need their guidance.

When she started her first job, she never relied on her mother to wake her in the morning and in fact most of the time she was doing the wake-up rounds and getting her parents ready for the day.

She couldn’t understand when she went to university how some of her friends had a selection of meals made by their parents and stored in the freezer so all they had to do was microwave them each night. One of her friends’ mothers went as far as labelling each meal with which day of the week it needed to be consumed on, removing any need for thought there too. She couldn’t understand how people had got to the age of eighteen and didn’t know how to boil an egg. Nor did she see why they needed their mothers to ring them on the morning of an exam to check that they were awake in time. It was a different world and totally bizarre to the one she inhabited. Despite her advanced self-government skills, she was weak when it came to Darren.

Adulthood Non-fiction Observations Writing

Since when did our world get so busy?

Since when did our world get so busy? Since when did we struggle to find time? Time has always been the same length. So tell me, what happened to mine?

Since when did we start having to set reminders; to text back, to wake up, to go out to dinner, to put things away. How did life get too manic that when we finally manage to stop we don’t know what to say.

Since when did we wish for things to slow down so much that we get home and lock the doors just to escape for a while.

If someone asks us to help out in the evening, we struggle to find the energy to go that extra mile.

Since when did work engulf us and every other aspect just have to fit in? To the point where we have to book a holiday and force ourselves, force ourselves to give in.

Since technology, since globalization, since everything got faster and easier and more complicated.

All these wonderful developments in this wonderful world that are all going to end up simply hated.

It has forced us to speed up, it has forced us to cram everything into the shortest spaces of time. It has forced us to find ways out to a simpler life and a bit of peace of mind.

Sometimes, just sometimes, take a slo-mo moment from your day. Perhaps don’t even stop just slow down and notice all the good around you in so many ways.

Notice friends, notice nature, notice family, notice pets, notice sounds, notice how it feels to be alive.

It is almost too much, so often too much, but what most of us want is easy and for easy we must strive.

fiction Stories Writing

Delay (part 2)

“Hey darling!” I said as I greeted Sam, masking all my thoughts and feelings.

“Hello, love,” he replied with his sexy voice that I always wished I didn’t adore.

An awkward pause occurred when I racked my brain for an excuse as to why Sam absolutely could not enter my home on this occasion. My home that he was always most welcomed into and usually would walk in without the politeness of a knock first. Sam. My best friend. Nothing was happening inside my head, so I had to back down.

 “Can I come in?” Sam said, confused as to why he was still outside waiting in the cool October air, luckily it wasn’t raining.

“Hi er. Sorry. Sorry.” I couldn’t think quickly enough with a plausible excuse. “I – er – now really isn’t a good time. Sorry mate.” The look on his face broke off a piece of my heart but I held up the strength for long enough to shut the door behind him before letting out some more unexpected tears.

Pausing a moment, I instantly felt guilty for lying to my friend. I immediately started to tackle chores in a frantic manner so that technically my small fib became more truthful. Now wasn’t a good time, I was busy.

I poured a large glass of Sauvignon Blanc noticing that it was only ten past twelve, so I felt very naughty and set it aside while I began pottering about my kitchen. I realised quite quickly that as I looked like a woman with it all together, I certainly was not. In fact, I was acting crazy in the way that each dish was being washed within an inch of its life and mugs were almost breaking as I placed them forcefully into the dishwasher.

The dog came up close to me sensing my instability and I decided to stop a moment and take another large glug of my wine.

I love how dogs know instantly when you’re feeling down or anxious. When things get too much, I can always rely on her to be by my side. Mum taught me that. Mum taught me how to love animals so much. Mum taught me a lot actually.

She taught me how to walk, talk, eat, be polite. She was with me when I first rode a bike, first got on a horse, first drove a car. She was there at my school exam results day, my leavers do, my graduation. She held me through my first break ups, my friendship battles, when things got too much in general.

It didn’t take long before the tissue I was holding was sodden with the tears that I was unaware of. I was finding this harder than I expected, harder than I cared to admit. Swiftly I binned that tissue and wiped the remaining tears from my face with the back of my hand, slapping it gently as if to tell myself to get it together.

A happy song broke up the various chat shows on the radio, so I turned it up and shimmied around the kitchen while polishing some wine glasses in case another visitor came along and judged me. I was loving the feeling that I was experiencing and knew quite firmly that for four and a half minutes at least I could enjoy myself, my life. I was so happy that I even got the antibacterial spray out and began wiping the surfaces, the hob and even parts of the cooker that hadn’t been touched in months, my stubbornness refusing to except the idea of getting a cleaner into my thoughts. When I moved my phone, which was charging on the kitchen side to wipe around it, I noticed a missed call – Sandy.

Adulthood fiction Stories Writing

Delay (part 1)

“Don’t you think, you know, you should maybe consider taking some time off.”

“Mmm,” Melanie grunted disapprovingly.

“I don’t think you realise how much you take on all of the time and this is just huge for you to cope with. Mel, you look tired. Seriously. We are all so concerned for you.”

“I don’t know.”

“Just ask at work, they are going to understand completely. They will. And you will feel so much better for it.”

“I just hate letting people down.”

“For God’s sake you aren’t letting anyone down!”

“I just think I’ll worry that I am though.”


I knew as Cassie was speaking with that same affirmative tone that I’d heard so many times before she meant what she said. It was like being spoken to by a teacher at school, a decision-making boss, or, worse, my mother. As irritating as it made me, I also realised that such seriousness in Cassie’s voice meant that the care was so genuine and that my situation was probably more serious than I treated it.

I knew I buried most issues under the carpet. I knew it was a trait that I would always possess. Yet I struggled to see quite how this proved to be such an issue to so many people around me. An interest almost. I failed to see that my getting annoyed at their care was wrong and how I was extremely lucky to have so many people looking out for me, irritating me daily when all I wanted to be was alone.  

“Here you go, another cup of the good stuff will sort you out.” Cassie passed me a perfect cup of tea, just how I liked it.

Cassie always knew to leave me when I fell into one of my unique zone out moments, but she always knew how to welcome me back into the world with such warmth.


“Here, I’ll stay for another one of these then grab a bottle on my way back, shall I?”


After consuming our warm brews, Cassie left for the long list of chores that her Sunday had in store for her, but she was sure to be back by six o’clock, prompt as ever. Her hugs were so tight and true that it left me wiping the tears that I didn’t know existed away from my face. I had finally broken a little and began to feel ashamed for it when the doorbell rang, again.

“One moment!” I shouted, straightening myself up and powdering my nose as fast as I could so the guest wouldn’t notice my sadness.

I hoped it would be the postman but then remembered it was a Sunday. Then I prayed for a delivery man, the milkman working extra, a supermarket van driver for an order that I had sent for while drunk and had then forgotten about. I hoped it would be anybody except for who I knew that it would be. Somebody else offering their deep concern for my wellbeing and somebody else wishing to sit for hours telling me that I needed to take some time out, to rest, to look after myself for once in my life.