Tag Archives: gratitude

being loved…

I found this post written on February 14th: You asked me over for dinner yesterday, oddly formal, awkward smiling. I said yes without a thought, surprised you’d bother to ask in advance when we spend so many evenings sat alone … Continue reading

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the weight of kindness…

  I was taking money out of a cash point in a sprawling La Paz bus terminal, feeling more than a little exposed in the clear glass cubicle that seemed to magnify the curious eyes looking my way. Sometimes I … Continue reading

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warm welcome…

I’m sitting in a cafe taking advantage of free wifi and a warm place to sit. I’m wait for the night bus to judder on in to town and rattle me off into the dark, ready to wake up in … Continue reading

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the pleasure of small things…

You may not believe it, but there are days when I wish I could climb out of the bath tub hot nights, days when one cobbled colonial street looks pretty much another and I’d be tempted to choose the familiarity … Continue reading

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lightening the load…

I arrived in Cuba just a few hours late. My bag sadly did not. I had to smile at the irony of all the huffing and fussing I did over what to pack, only to find myself with not much … Continue reading

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thank you for you…

After a few days of being stressed about an awful lot of nothing, today was a day that pulsed with love, when I was reminded simply and sweetly of what matters.

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just me, just this…

These days are crisp to the touch, barely born before they slip into the jealous grasp of the long winter nights. Without work, without many people around, hours should stretch on. But I am finding contentment in little things: puppy-dog … Continue reading

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excess baggage…

When I’m abroad I learn to live with little. I know it’s good for me to be reminded that I can manage with five sets of clothes, that life is possible with two pairs of shoes and only one sweater.. … Continue reading

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the neon-pink Christmas tree…

I was met at the airport by a delighted dog in fairy wings – why wings? I don’t really know. My brother and the pup picked me up, drove me dozing home, and ushered me in to see a neon-pink … Continue reading

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I hoard toilet paper…

On my last morning walk to work in Dhaka a mist started to roll in across the lake, hiding the slum and cocooning me and the bridge over in a shroud of thick white fluff. It was something I had never seen in … Continue reading

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