I look out of my window every morning and I thank the Universe for listening to me.
I am not quite sure why at this particular time of my life I feel an overwhelming need to check out my daily horoscope. Fortunately I am not quite neurotic enough to feel compelled to consult an astrologer to convince me that it is safe to go out of the house; just in case someone... Continue Reading →
I apologise to Harold Fry's creator, Rachel Joyce, for the analogy in the title of this post. Of course my epic journey would have been nothing like as dramatic as Harold's. But the thought hit me, when walking along the beach around about Trafal in the Algarve the other day, in an attempt to burn... Continue Reading →