A change of heart
Mary Murphy
July 30, 2015
You know the expression – to feel like a red-headed stepchild? That’s always amused me. I could be mistaken but as I understand it, the
You know the expression – to feel like a red-headed stepchild? That’s always amused me. I could be mistaken but as I understand it, the
I was at a birthday party last night. The invitation said no presents, just your presence. But people still brought gifts. Me included. There’s a
I’m not very big on religions. I have a hard time distinguishing between the various Protestant churches and an even harder time identifying which church
I’m well aware of my limitations. Painfully aware of them at times. When it comes to all that’s arty, I have my favourites. But as
I’m allergic to queues. Apart from the post office, there are few places I’d wait patiently in line for anything. With the post office, I’m
It’s been ten years since I spent any time of note in Oxford and it felt a little strange to walk the streets again, rediscovering
Dad came to collect him and democracy was restored. I went from a co-starring spot to a supporting role in double-jig time. Once the UN building
Seven days in and we’re both still alive, if bordering on exhaustion. I want to be a kid again so I can stay up all
We’re still talking. But I’m knackered. His mother told me that he was too like me for comfort and now I’m finally getting a glimpse
I’ve never been responsible for another living being for any length of time, apart from a week of dog-sitting many years ago in Alaska. And
