Borderline hypochondria in lockdown—a poem
A poem about hypochondria in lockdown. It’s a thing, isn’t it? And a good thing too. One half thinks her throat is hot and breeding mould.
Continue readingA poem about hypochondria in lockdown. It’s a thing, isn’t it? And a good thing too. One half thinks her throat is hot and breeding mould.
Continue readingPost written in 2015, in which I offer more sage advice to myself about the simple pleasures of walking Walking is one peg in the exercise programme that was part of my boot camp for old age, my year of looking intently at darn near every aspect of my life. And there’s more to walking […]
Continue readingAunt Beulah posed (indirectly) a fascinating question in her latest blog post: Why, as we grow older, do we feel the urge to discuss our health problems at length, when as children we never did? So many hypotheses rushed into my head that I was forced to share them immediately. Oh dear. So that means I’m a case in […]
Continue readingWho am I to give advice about walking? Somebody who used to be not a human as we know it but a balloon on a string, that’s who. I deeply appreciate the joy of walking for that very reason: for years I was virtually unconscious of my body when out for a trot. All my […]
Continue readingSo, how can we walk more mindfully on our everyday excursions? (Not during a formal walking meditation: that’s a different kettle of fish.) And what can we copy from the best young walkers? And what else makes a walk through town a delicious adventure? These are tips to myself, and some may appeal to you. Some are […]
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