There’s a freedom that comes from loss that I hadn’t expected. A distance from expectations that is so freeing, one can get giddy with the knowledge you didn’t know age would bring. The cliched “life is too short” attitude becomes very real as you find yourself in situations you are not always comfortable with. But it works, that saying yes, that freedom from the critical … Continue reading Cracked: allowing me to be what I could see
Tell me you come from a long line of haberdashers without telling me you come from a long line of haberdashers. Granny Branch and me, Waltham Way, Frinton On Sea, Essex, 1974. Dressed handmade by my mum, fabric provided (at a charge, no doubt) by Granny Joan Branch from her shop, Branch The Drapers on Connaught Avenue. A formidable, filter-free matriarch, shopkeeper and landlady who … Continue reading Granny Branch and the polyester years
Age 55 and this summer, I finally fulfilled a lifetime ambition as Queenie and I built our first shed. All 6ft by 4ft of imported wood, gritty roof felt and @wickes essentials, it’s the perfect potter base, a space to call our own as I get to reconnect with a certain slice of childhood nostalgia, the smell of compost, paint tins and odd sods dragging me back … Continue reading Lesbian shed life
Wildblood and Queenie 