For those of you who live in the sun, this may be a non-event but the UK has had the The sunrise was spectacular this morning. Drinking tea in bed watching her rise was a joy. Despite ‘red sky in the morning, sailors take warning’, it’s almost midday and the sun is gloriously shining. wettest weather the past year that I’ve experienced on this side of the pond, reminiscent of the rainy months in Vancouver where I spent my first forty years.
Today the wind is blowing the sleet sideways. Frozen slush is pelting against my window and I’m thankful to be inside a warm home. My bones hurt. More than ever, I dream of our winter home-to-be in Spain.
This July was a whirlwind of travel throughout some of the loveliest sights that England has to offer. I highly recommend any of them for the curious traveler.
This month I’m not writing about a place I have travelled to, rather a different kind of journey. For the past 4+ I have been writing a memoir of my early life. I’m not writing it because I am famous or a narcissist as I’m neither of those. Why then? Because those years shape us by creating our patterns of thinking which in turn affects our behaviour and each year, adds a layer.
Please bear with me as I set the stage for this blog.
In the early 1980’s, I was working as a waitress in a cocktail bar at night whilst studying marketing and business administration during the day. The venue was called Richards on Richards and was arguably the hottest nightclub in Vancouver.
