• Living Between the Lines,  Mum is the word

    Is it me or is it you?

    The phone rang at an unusual hour considering it was my mother at the other end. Our phone calls tend to take place late afternoon unless there is something wrong. So, it was with some trepidation that I picked up the phone this morning saying, “Hello?” “Oh, who am I speaking to? Is that Debbie?” “Yes, are you ok?” “Oh, yes I am fine thank you, not too bad at all but I have two parcels for you…I don’t know what they are of course…” “Oh, that’s odd, I haven’t ordered anything…” (thinks, oh no, not again!) “What sort of parcels?” “I’ll look, just a minute, just got to go…

  • Mum is the word

    Mothers, Dogs and Teeth…

    The hospital car park is full. It is not just full, cars are double parked at every turn. We crawl round the multi-storey, us and others with the same hope of finding a vacant spot. As one, we form a shiny metal snake, slithering round the levels. Occasionally, one lucky person spots a vacant space and slides into it as another slides out. This happens perhaps three times in half an hour. The rest of us continue our slow descent to the exit. There are no spaces in the local roads, just double yellow lines and tantalizing permit bays. Steven and I explore the surrounding area to no avail. Other…