Thanks for dropping by. I'm a writer and teacher with interests in education, mental health and community. I like to wonder aloud about everyday life, hope and the silly, incongruous things that shape us and make us who we are. I also like hats, cake and those tiny little snores cats make when they sleep. On the Home page, you'll find around 100 wonderings, all different in length and content. Click on any post to keep reading and to subscribe, if you'd like to. You can click on the tabs to find out more about me and my other writing. Have the best kind of day. Deborah x
Did you know London begins on the A22 just outside Whyteleafe? Unless you're on the train, and then it's probably somewhere like Purley Beeches. This is when you're travelling from Sussex. Of course that's just my opinion. There are actual signs up on roads that say things like 'Welcome to the London Borough of Croydon'. … Continue reading Boundaries, baldness and the art of listening carefully
So I had a bit of an episode. I lost my diary. I keep all my passwords in there - well, obviously not my actual passwords (I'm not stupid. At least, not in that way) but the clues to them. Like you, I have many passwords and without the clues, I'm helpless. My husband keeps … Continue reading Falling off the edge
I refuse to believe you get fussier as you get older more experienced (we've banned the "o" word in our house due to occasional bouts of melancholy). I mean it's true that answering the question, "Can I get you a cup of tea?" is slightly long-winded these days - "Yes please, quite strong, but not too strong. … Continue reading Tea and Other Transforming Things
You know that thing when you open the dishwasher, and shove something in mid-cycle? Well, I do it really fast, before the dishwasher actually realises so there's no pause in the cycle. Just a quick hiss of water, the clunk of the mug or fork as it bumps into its friends, the bang of the door. … Continue reading A Breath or a Pause? Paris and beyond…
I hate closing doors – on the house, the classroom, the car - there’s always a tiny stab of panic just before the lip of the door hits the jamb. Sometimes I have to go back and check things – the oven, heater, brake. I don’t quite know why. Call me O.C.D. but I suppose … Continue reading Hunting for Small and other Sacred Pathways
