In life, sometimes you are privileged enough to meet someone who brightens your world, touches your soul, shows you a love unimagined and unparalleled and makes you a better person. Beautiful, glorious Katrinka did this and so much more on an hourly basis.
My rebel princess, my magical unicorn, my sweet, beautiful ballerina, my criminal genius. I love you and always will.
My heart is broken. My baby girl died in my arms on 2nd May.
My girl was brave, bold, independent, cheeky, funny, so bloody clever but shy, so very, very shy. That meant that most of the world never got to see how amazing she was. I feel sorry for you all because she was absolutely incredible. She was perfect.
She was an inspiration. She taught me so much. She loved with the ferocious heart of a lion and the gentleness of a lamb. To look into those Cleopatra eyes, so full of love was an honour.
She ruled our house with a nudge of her nose, a sparkle in her eyes and the offer to stroke those amazing velvet ears. She would creep onto my knee, snuggle her head under my chin, rest her head on my chest and breathe a sweet sigh; she was home, she was safe. So was I.
I thought that we would have many, many more years together. We had so many dreams, so many plans.
Life without her is unimaginable. Her big brother is struggling to comprehend it. We both are.
Be bold, be brave, love fiercely. She would want that.
I had a friend. A beautiful, kind, generous friend. From the second that we saw each other we loved each other. There was no question. I would have done anything for him and he for me.
There was nothing but love in our relationship. How could there be? He was amazing. Full of joy, love, laughter, dancing, singing, cuddles, adventure. I’ve never met anyone like him. I never will. He understood my soul. I understood his. He made me laugh. God did he make me laugh!
We had a very special bond. We knew it. Some of our closest friends knew it too. But… Other stuff was going on in our young lives. We were both busy. It was the way it was. It was all good. We had each other. We were friends. There is nothing better.
One night we made a silly pact under a Mancunian, starlit sky. “If we’re not married to other people by 40, we’ll marry each other”. We laughed. We hugged each other tight.
We didn’t know that he wouldn’t be here now.
Tomorrow I will celebrate his life. Tomorrow I will visit his grave. Tomorrow I will remember everything that was beautiful about our Tim. I will forever be grateful to have known you. xxx
On World Cancer Day it’s difficult not to think about my Dad and the horrible battle he had with that vile disease. He was my hero and though he was in my life for too short a time he taught me so many valuable lessons about life, love and the world.
As that monstrous disease riddled his body I also learned, the hard way, about people too and sadly how cruel they could be sometimes.
My Dad loved to swim and thankfully we were lucky enough to have a swimming pool at the end of our street. That meant that my brother and I learned to swim when we were really young and we got to spend many happy hours swimming and playing with our amazing Dad.
That was until someone complained to the swimming pool that the scars on my Dad’s chest from the multiple surgeries he’d had to try and save his life offended them, and they thought he was upsetting the other swimmers. If ever there was a man that couldn’t and wouldn’t upset or offend anyone…
After that he never went back to the pool. And I saw it as a place of intolerance, criticism and pain. No-one should be made to feel like they are unwelcome because they’re ill. I wish whoever made that comment had thought about the pleasure and freedom they were depriving him of and the memories that they have stolen from us.
Peace and love to you all.
When I was a little girl my Dad used to tell me stories. Great stories. He was Irish after all. The one that absolutely stuck with me was about a man who was so mean, so obsessed with money that he used to walk around looking at the floor in case he saw a penny that someone had dropped, after all ‘If you look after the pennies…’
He spent so much time looking for the pennies that he missed rainbows, sunsets, glorious sunshine, the birds soaring above and shooting stars.
I’m delighted to have learned this lesson very early. I’ll leave it with you.
Peace and love.
I’ve always been lucky. I never had to look for a hero. From the moment I was born he was there. Allegedly inappropriately clad in shorts for December because my Dad wasn’t coping well with the washing of clothes but there he was. My big brother.
Legend has it that I screamed the house down from the moment I got there, except when Paul held me, until I could walk. My poor Mum walked miles pushing me in a pram and my Dad drove for hours but with little respite. Until I could walk. Until I could follow my hero and go where he could go.
i never bothered with crawling. I started walking at 8 months old. The crying stopped. I was happy because I could be with my hero.
We didn’t have an ideal childhood. Who does? But our kid taught me the stuff that was really important; what great football looked like? Loyalty, despite the fact we weren’t playing it. How to appreciate cricket. Proper music and what was worth loving. Great films.
And how to catch a cricket ball (properly) launched at your head unexpectedly (by him!).
It’s funny because I’ve seen my friends argue with their brothers and sisters, kick against them, end up at odds with them. I never have. I never will. I absolutely idolise him.
What I find so wonderful and makes me so proud is that every single person I know that has met my hero absolutely loves him to the bone. He is a quiet, humble, wonderful man that has made a beautiful impression on everyone that he has ever come into contact with.
This is a very personal post and not one that many of my friends will expect but it feels like it’s the right time to say it. I have never been to a doctor to confirm it but I don’t need to, I suffer with depression. I have for a long time.
I have read such awful nonsense, vile opinions and stupidity in the media recently that I feel I should share my story with you.
I’ve always been a happy person. My glass is always more than half full. I’ve always had lots of amazing friends and the most wonderful family. Yes, I’m an introvert but I love to play out, socialise, go to gigs and party with the very best of them. I campaign, do my bit for charity, get involved in community activities and will support any of my friends in any activity they are involved in.
If you look at me you would never know I have dark days. You really wouldn’t. But I do.
There are days when I don’t want to get out of bed. Where I could sleep for 36 hours straight. But that’s not healthy right?
I know that. But I can only echo Stephen Fry’s analogy because it is the only one that makes sense to me. Some days the dark clouds descend and when they do you just want to shelter till the storm passes and the sun peeks through. I just keep my fingers crossed that it doesn’t set in.
Having never taken what most people would consider as ‘professional’ advice I took a different and what I believed was the best course of action for me, 16 years ago I adopted a puppy from Manchester Dogs Home.
Oscar was the best reason to get up in the morning, the best reason to run in the fields, to feel the sun on my skin, to laugh, to cuddle, to be kind, to be the best person I could be. He was my baby, my angel, an absolute legend.
After 15 glorious years together I sadly had to say goodbye to my angel just over a year ago when arthritis made his life too painful. I took to my bed for two days. I didn’t want to face a world that was so painful. I didn’t want a world without my partner in crime. I had annual leave from work, there was no need to get up.
I made the decision then. I was never, ever going to let my heart be this broken again. I was never going to get another dog.
This was August. The house was quiet. Horribly so. Painfully so.
I was not going to get another dog.
Well not until January…
And then this face (in October) stole my heart on Twitter as you may have seen…
What a bloody pest he is!
But he’s most definitely the best reason to get up in the morning, the best reason to run in the fields, to feel the sun on my skin, to laugh, to cuddle, to be kind, to be the best person I could be. He’s my baby, my angel and an absolute legend.
Please be kind and generous to people, none of us know what is going on beneath the public facade. Look after yourselves and please cherish friends and family every day. x
Look at that little face? Now isn’t that a face to love and cherish? Well it seems that someone, somewhere didn’t agree. This little fella somehow ended up with this photo being posted on Twitter alongside a plea for funds to pay for petrol money to get across to Sheffield to rescue him from death row.
You see this beautiful little man was scheduled to be ‘destroyed’ on Monday 28th October.
Thankfully there are great, generous, kind people on the planet who put the needs of others, including little, scally mutts like this ahead of their own. The people in question here are @NWDogRescue.
I was not intending on getting a dog, not right now, not until January at the earliest. And having donated a fiver to get him out of that place I thought that would ease my conscience. But no, I couldn’t rest. Those eyes haunted me and as I sat in my warm house, with my comfy sofa I thought of that little soul on his own, confused and scared and I knew I could do more…
As I type this my gorgeous bundle of joy and mischief, Noah is asleep on my knee and though that makes typing difficult I am delighted that I can bring him the happiness in life that he deserves.
Watch this space for more adventures.
If you’re on Twitter please follow @NWDogRescue and help them to share the stories of the pooches they rescue and help them to find forever homes just like Noah. I promise you, Twitter really is a place to find love. X
For the last 15 years my darling Oscar has been my best friend, my baby and my constant companion. He has brought so much joy to the world and enriched the life of everyone that has met him.
When my lovely friend Suze suggested that we take part in the Manchester Colour Run in aid of Stand up to Cancer I immediately said ‘yes’ for two very different reasons.
Keep going, going on, call that going, call that on. 