The Boy Likes Gin

History has taught us that we must stand and be counted when it comes to the defence of our legal freedoms. Too many people are turning the other cheek, lowering their gaze. I can't, I must say something. It's all I can do. 

I'm all in on adventure, and my Lisbon adventure feels like it is coming to a gentle close. I need to remember how free I am , and I must honour that freedom. Where will I go? Whom will I be? I have no idea, darling. And that is such a thrill. Goodness, life really is dazzling, if we let it be. 

Portugal, my wonderful darling, the haven of peace and acceptance, has been entranced by the far right. I'm exhausted, sad, and unable to dream. But we folk are marvellous, and I think all will be just lovely, in the end. I hope. I really hope. 

What started off as a normal Monday soon turned into a day of destiny for me. It was time for me to take my place among the great heroes of history. With the outfit selected, and with the weight of the nation on my (slim) shoulders, and with a thimble of wine, I prepared myself for battle. 

Four years in Lisbon! Gosh, gosh, gosh! I've done a lot, and drank a lot, and read a lot, and I am still heavy at the hip. What a hoot!

During a last-minute dash back to England to be with Dad as he went into hospital, I realised that nothing changes and everything changes.   

I gently walked away from a lovely, beautiful stranger who was seemingly head-over-his-big-heels for me. Instinct told me that I needed more. Instinct also whispered to me that it would have been unkind to him - and to me - if I were to stay.  

A letter to my younger self. An update about how life is getting on. I think everything is marvellous. There is peace in our time. 

Life is just a wonderful wander from phase to phase. I have a feeling that this marvellous phase might be coming to its natural end. But I have no idea where the next phase will be, and that's just wonderful! 

I am not sure if getting older makes rejection easier, or if rejection makes rejection easier. But either way, it is getting easier. The wobble is reducing. Nothing can topple me.  

An old lady I barely knew has died, and I feel so very sad. She was so entirely lovely to me. I must be entirely lovely to others. We're all hidden figures until someone says 'hello'.

New year resolutions. I have a few. And all were rather splendid, if not a touch daft. But I have a feeling that this is the year when it all the loveliness begins. I might be wrong. But I might be right, Darling!

I'm done with 'rational love', 'makes sense love', 'love for now love', 'I think it is love, love'. Nope. I want the 'blast into my world and shake the whole darn place to its foundations love'. I won't compromise. My friend has just found that love, so why can't I? I can. I hope.  If not, I choose 'a table for one' for the rest of my days, and that's fine, Darling! 

Father, where art thou? Not here. Never here. Nope. Thank goodness!

The unforgivable thrill maker.  Wow! But no. WOW. Still no. 

Don't invite me, I don't mind. I'm attending the best show in town. Mine, darling. 

Daily life is a magnificently daft adventure. Humdrum, it is not. 

Not the actual world - just my world. The world of one. I've done a marvellous job.

Life is never a walk in the park.

home, home, home, and then away, wonderfully away into the unknown. 

A resolution stumble.  But back walking, and talking, and resolving.  I think.

A letter to a wonderful friend. Because words (and pens) are all that I have to give. 

When you know you know, you might not know. But I know that I know that I know that I like him. I think. But I don't know if it's not a no.

Seeing Dad, wonderful Dad, in a different light, via bruised knees and egg sandwich imaginings.

This is what classical music does to me. Recorded, loaded and released within minutes of the conductor's baton tumbling to the ground, while the torment and joy is still coursing, uncontrolled, through every part of me.