Journalist and wordsmith. Wanderer, tart-maker, friend to dogs.

Word Work

Detour Along the Road Not Taken

The jolt and hum of the train, the green hills smudging past and, across the aisle, my nieces—two coltish girls on the thorny cusp of womanhood.

Springtime’s Most Rambling Metaphor

Three times in as many weeks: hail. Pearly gemstones plinking down, making a spectacle of themselves, just when we all thought the day might clear.

Times I’ve Almost Died

When the shaking started, I was deep, deep down—cocooned in a dream that was yanked away from me when terror plunged its greedy hand into my sleep and hauled me spluttering towards the surface.

Something After Nothing

It’s true, I’m employed again.

What She Does Next Is Shocking

Years ago Dad bought a 1986 right-hand drive Land Rover Defender, named her Matilda, and sawed her in half.

Girl Most Likely To

Let me be the first to tell you I’ve forgotten what it was I wanted to say. The words I’d been saving squandered elsewhere.