I got me . . .

. . . AN UMBRELLA! Happily, everything went very smoothly on Wednesday. But there were a few surprises: for example, I was not anticipating being fully awake during the procedure – I had thought they would dope me up with some of the loopy juice they gave me during the trans-esophageal examination – which left… Read More

scripts

(taking a break by Blackpool tower last weekend) edited to add: if this is being read by Colin, the piping cabbie with a penchant for fairisle, the remarks that follow do not apply to you! It has been a tough few days. After the windmill walk, I really was totally whacked and spent several days… Read More

sleep is an activity

(York in 1994. I lived in the wee house with the white door to the left of the picture.) In the summer of 1994 I was living in York. I was twenty one; had finished my honours degree; and was looking forward to beginning my masters. I had a job in a pub that paid… Read More

invisible metaphors

I have been thinking a lot this week about what is invisible. If you looked at me now, what you would see was myself, looking (I hope) pretty much as I did before all this happened, save for a stick; a wonky leg and some sadly uncoordinating footwear. What you perhaps wouldn’t be aware of… Read More

on foot

I’m enjoying a lovely weekend at home after quite a tough week in rehab. We’ve been trying to get my foot to move of its own accord. I’ve spent hours thinking about moving the foot muscles; attempting (in vain) to move the foot; watching the foot hang there like a dead clawed-up thing; and trying… Read More

hares and tortoises

This is the design that I was working on five weeks ago, and that I was actually carrying with me in my bag when I had the stroke: a wee sweater in shades of natural Shetland, inspired by Aesop’s fable of the Tortoise and the Hare. I’ve been thinking a lot about this project, and… Read More