Why the blog

I love to write and plague my son with novels he never reads.
‘Write your story mum,’ he says. ‘I reckon that would be interesting.’
I laugh. ‘I would need several volumes to write my life story. There are too many memories in my head.’
Later his request comes to me again but I think no, I could never write my story. I would not know where to begin.
But here I am, writing random memories that come to me at odd times. It’s not an auto biography. It’s not even a memoir. It’s just a random collection of moments in time and it’s for my children.

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