“Oh Lisa!”. My mum was mortified, shuffling quickly away from the display of artwork and casting my poor, totally oblivious, dad a sideways look. In doing so she’d probably drawn more attention to what was an innocent work of art by an eight year old than she’d intended. Below the carefully crafted picture was a description which read in my best joined-up ‘My mum’s name is Glen and she works in the bookies’. My mum was keeping up appearances long before Hyacinth Bucket came on the scene. My mum was a force of nature. She would talk to anyone and I mean anyone…years of workingRead More →

So at work today (in between working extremely hard) we were discussing letters. I may not be a ‘Hoarders from Hell’-level hoarder but I do have a bit of a tendency towards nostalgia and like to keep things that I consider to be of sentimental value. My husband may classify some of these items as ‘recycling’. Over the years, I have kept most of the letters that friends and family have sent to me, and tonight (whilst the husband works) I have dug them all out.  The first thing that struck me about my near record-breaking collection of letters was the power of them. WithinRead More →