A decade ago, I had a new job in a TV company that was falling apart. I didn't know it was falling apart; it became more evident as the weeks rolled by.
The boss looked like Bill Clinton, or at least, Bill Clinton with more personal problems and a bandaged hand.
Meanwhile, I had a baby boy kicking inside my belly.
I wrote a poem about that intense time, and I'm chuffed to have the poem published in this amazing Bloodaxe poetry anthology. What an honour! These anthologies have inspired me for years.
Honestly, I can't leaf through one, without loads of the poems giving me the shivers, and I think, if only I could write one like that. Now, I can officially die happy.
Unless, of course, I die of Corona Virus. I won't be happy, at all. What a mess we are all in.
Quick - look at that rainbow! Note to self : Distract yourself from Planetary Disaster and the lure of the Twitter Doom-scroll.
My best distraction is still the daily dog-walk. Who knew it was a form of meditation for those who don't want to sit crosslegged chanting Ommm? The Wellies are put to good use. I feel like a farmer, tending my fields. Look - this is Glasgow!
And this is Bumcheek. The kids call her Bumcheek when she is being 'naughty'. Or being 'Bum-Cheeky'. It's become an adjective now. Someone's been editing photos on my phone.
Here we go for the October Break. In terms of Covid Risk, it's a temporary relief having schools shut for the holiday. We don't have any plans, beyond dog-walks, popcorn, Netflix and Nonsense. It's enough.
Life can be scary, but it's still abundant. And a bit Bum-cheeky.
Stay Human, fellow Bum Cheeks. X
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