It’s almost ten years since I last used Stansted airport, and I couldn’t help noticing  the increase in the number of flights considering it was a weekday in term-time, and how many people were in the central area lounge area, resigned for a long wait. I arrived at the airport three and a half hours before my flight, as the next coach would have been cutting things too fine. I shall know not to do that next time.

“But I don’t feel it” was my mother’s standard response when anyone dared to remind her of her biological age, but at one minute past midnight two days ago, I knew I could no longer pretend to be young.

With what I now realise was an unrealistic ambition to design my own cover for “SCATTERED LIVES”, I enrolled for an art class at the beginning of term.

In my previous blog, I shared two of my New Year’s Resolutions. These were to set aside at least two hours writing time a day, and to learn from the feedback rather than take offence.

The twelve days of the Christmas season are over, and the story has changed. The joyful welcome to the arrival of Jesus from heavenly beings, ordinary farm workers and “magi” from other countries, has been replaced by the story of an insecure tyrant, the murder of babies and the forced displacement of Jesus and his family to another country.

Welcome! I’m delighted you’re here to explore my debut novel Ill Conceived. Writing began as a retirement pastime and has grown into a passion that shapes my daily life. I blog monthly about my writing journey, inspirations from everyday encounters, and the fascinating people I meet through volunteering and community life.