You wake up every morning to the gentle whooshing sound of the sea underneath your water bungalow, before dropping off your deck into the clear, turquoise water. Flipping onto your back and staring up into the bluest of blue skies. It doesn’t get much better than that.
For those of us already working from home, as well as those who are self-isolating, take heart ♥. The fantastic weather we are having may be doing more than boosting our Vitamin D and taking our minds off the uncertainties for the future.
Sometimes during a rare night of deep sleep, I dream about some cracking plotlines and try to wake myself up to write them down. More often than not, when I do manage to wake myself up, I can’t remember them.
Over the last week, this site has had many, many visitors from Lithuania. I am ashamed to say I had to look at the map to see where Lithuania was – I think I must have failed Geography O Level. I’m not sure 🤔 I’ve ever had a visitor from Continue Reading
I could log these brain farts I’ve been having as senior moments, but my oldest friends will tell you I’ve always been away with the fairies. So there is little hope for me now.
Perhaps, constantly sweating over creating new plotlines, means I am beginning to lose my own?
I think a break will do me good.
PLEASE HELP AUSTRALIA! An estimated 1 billion animals have been lost in the fires as scientists warn that species of mammals, birds, insects, fungi and plants may have been wiped out before they were even discovered. Even animals that survive the fires are still at risk.
Earlier this year, I met Gemma Dupont, who is a part of my Word Press blogging family, as well as a fellow aspiring author. Enthusiastic, bright and bubbly; her motto has always been… caring is sharing.
Gemma very recently finished writing her memoir, Perpetual Helix, all bar one final, professional edit. She is so close, yet so far away from achieving her dream to see it in print.
This week, Gemma has received a truly devastating diagnosis. Stage 4 lung and brain cancer.
Gemma urgently needs an editor who would be willing to get the manuscript to the stage where Gemma can, at least, self-publish, as a legacy for her partner and her children.
As the cogs start to turn and 2019 rolls into 2020, changes are afoot here at Lost Blogs. It will be a new chapter in the life of this pantser-style blog, as its creator evolves into the Plotter she always knew she should be.
It is the 8th of October 1980, and it’s Lisa Grant’s twenty-first birthday. She has recently been reunited with her father, Fergus, who lays on a party for her at her favourite restaurant in Soho, Fanny’s Bistro. The tables are hastily rearranged to accommodate two uninvited guests, Lisa’s mother, Continue Reading
I am in boho mode. When I wake up in the morning the first thing I see are a pair of brown legs. As I drowsily come too, I realise they are attached to me. I am in a small corner of the EU that I know and love and Continue Reading
Time flies when you’re enjoying yourself, so it’s hard to believe that, by the end of today, it will be a week since we arrived and kicked off our shoes After a week’s worth of downtime, I’ve eased myself into relaxation mode and it’s a very comfortable place to be. Continue Reading
Yesterday was a day for making new friends and saving a life. After a lazy morning getting my teeth into Ruby Wax’s words of wisdom we headed out for a, very, late lunch and found a note sellotaped to our hire car. We stopped, listened and the voice of a, Continue Reading
I’ve done a fair amount of travelling in my time, although a fair amount is never enough when it comes to travel. I’ve experienced long and short-haul delays. I’ve been grounded when aircraft have gone techie. I’ve been subjected to impossible fellow travellers and have taken it all in my Continue Reading
My ‘reading list’ is a stacked-up, teetering tower of books crying out to be read. Not forgetting what’s on my Kindle, which includes The Blue Hour a collection of short stories by fellow writers group member, Dreena Collins and The Poppy Field by another Jersey author, Deborah Carr. And, there are those ‘Dulcie Domum’ books by Sue Limb I really want to re-read… so, will two weeks be long enough? I will give it my best shot.
Whilst on safari, I lost weight fairly quickly and it wasn’t just to do with the heat. After enjoying a sundowner watching impala gambol happily in the bush, we would return to camp to find them on the dinner menu, which was just too hard to swallow. The only time I have ever been offered a gin and tonic for breakfast at 5.00a.m. was on safari and it was the only time I have ever refused one, sensibly realising I was getting enough quinine in my anti-malarial tablets.
I went to sleep last night with images of a burning 12th Century icon in my head. This morning my first waking thoughts were of Notre Dame de Paris, an iconic building that had stood for hundreds of years as a majestic and indestructible feature of the Paris skyline, until Continue Reading
What a few days it has been for me in the city of dreaming spires. I don’t like to brag, but I soaked up the words of wisdom of writer and broadcaster, Melvyn Bragg, who is best known as editor and presenter of ITV’s South Bank Show. He was talking about his Continue Reading
For the last three mornings, I have thrown back the curtains to look out across a valley of rolling hills, vineyards and circling kites. In the stillness of the early Oxfordshire morning, graceful kites soar within feet of my bedroom window. So close I feel I could reach out and Continue Reading
I was lucky enough to have known my birth parents, but on and off over the years, I have tried to build my family tree, but there is one branch that consistently fails to bear fruit.
Over the years I have mastered the art of drifting off, which has inevitably led to me becoming a master of non sequitur.
He averted her gaze, sucking air in through his teeth. One of his many irritating habits and something he always did when he knew he was in the wrong. He sighed deeply before turning to look at her again, a weak smile rippling across his face as his eyelashes fluttered.
Back in 1964, we all wanted to be Jane or Michael Banks. They were sharing their world with the perfectly perfect Julie Andrews as the immortal Mary Poppins who, just by clicking her fingers, was making their lives supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.
Lost Blogs is delighted to introduce photographer, Paul Walker, who has been exhibiting and publishing photographs since 2013. Paul has recently published a book of his photographs taken between 2013 and 2018, called A Picture Paints a Thousand Words. Which is a collaboration between a photographer and a group of international writers.
A crackling log fire reminds me of many things. Loved-up evenings on the sofa in front of a crackling fire binge watching box sets and eating a ridiculous amount of chocolate, without realising it. My childhood, growing up in an age before Social Media, playing cards in front of the fire during long winter evenings; my big brother and parents always let me win. As someone who functions much better during the summer months, a burning fire makes the winter bearable, it is the pumping heart of a home.
I’m biased when it comes to The Algarve. It is my personal, European haven, the place I would like to spend more time. It’s not just a passing phase, I’ve been in love with the place for twenty-six years… and who can blame me? I have waxed lyrical about it since I was blown away on my first visit.