Apologies for being late with this blog; I have been meaning to write it since last Monday, but every time I thought about doing so, something more urgent cropped up. Something more urgent like: loading the washing machine; paying the gas bill; cleaning the bath or cutting my split ends out. I think this tendency…
Author: thedragonflyjar
I'm a sixty something working, single woman, navigating through all the challenges and opportunities of life - hopefully with a little irreverent humour and grace.
Support team
Since those heady London Marathon days (#youdidn’texpectmetoholdoutforeversurely), and my self-imposed fast from anything running related, you should perhaps feel grateful that I am back on the running track this week. I have safely negotiated the risk of outing myself as a ‘Love Island’ viewer and saved you from reading a vacuous and shallow ‘Love Island’…
Today this could be…
As I have told you many times, I am someone who models their life on Monica from ‘Friends’ and I definitely prefer to let ‘rules control the fun’. However, I challenged myself over this Half Term break to be as random and spontaneous as possible. Naturally I set this challenge weeks ago and gave myself…
Purple Prose
I made two mistakes yesterday and both of them left me looking like a Victoria Plum. Firstly I managed to fall over myself while jogging along a coastal path -resulting in a grazed knee and dented pride in front of some hikers (‘no, no, I’m fine, you walk on with your rucksacks and gaiters’), and…
A capsule rucksack
I’m an avid follower of mid life fashionistas and love nothing more than perusing their daily outfit choices on Instagram and their blog critiques of new season cat walks – or SS19 as we say in the trade. Naturally I never follow their advice, and wear the same old crumpled, elasticated slacks I have worn…
I said…
My job this weekend has been to chauffeur my (very nearly) 93 year old mother from Oxfordshire back to her Hereford homeland. The occasion is the memorial service for her 95 year old sister; the death of my aunt on Mothering Sunday left my mother as the eldest in her family and, when I arrive…
She’s back
Sensing you will have been anxious since I left you on a rhino-infested blog precipice last week, it seems only fair to declare that Canary Wharf is now behind me and that I am back wearing ‘normal’ clothes, albeit a little creakily. It’s ten years since I last ran a marathon on this scale (yes,…
Runners’ Rights
It would be illegitimate to milk my marathon musings for much longer. Indeed, I may test the bounds of friendship if I stay addicted to conversations about the mileage and blisters I have clocked up. However, because I acknowledge that I may have unconsciously morphed into a long-distance runner, I intend to stretch this blog…
My Lighthouse Family
You just know that the Bank Holiday is going to be mellow when you pick up Favourite Son (FS), Favourite Daughter (FD) and Favourite Jimmy (FJ) from the train station; the sun is shining and, without a fight, they give Mama J permission to listen to her own play list music on the journey back…
Our Kind of Yoga
I’m wondering what is the collective noun for a group of yoga teachers. If we have a parliament of owls, an exultation of larks and a smack of jelly fish, then surely we can come up with something original for a gathering of lycra-clad bendy folk who teach yoga? The reason for my pondering is…
The Dragonfly Jar 