





28 years ago I had a nervous breakdown. It was devastating. I found healing in the mountains of western North Carolina. This week I finally found the words to make peace with what happened to me. Writing is my therapy.
After I read my words, I realize there were gentle signs along the way directing me towards my healing – though I did not realize it at the time. It brings to mind a favourite quote from Danish philosopher, Soren Kierkegaard.
“Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.”
Miss Canna barges into summer like a slutty diner waitress serving up busty ketchup and mustard blooms. Shy Boy Cortez gets an unexpected surprise.




This year’s garden is already bringing me so much joy. It’s like a little Indian jewel box.

The magnolia tree outside my window is in full bloom. Song is Blame It On My Stars, by Evrshde.


Here are some of my late spring garden flowers posing in a little vintage vase. The vase is from Soho Pottery and the design is “Sunningdale.” It was made around 1935. I bought it from an antique shop on Guisborough high street for my mum’s birthday in 1981. The music is Souvenir – by Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark and Moby.
