all my diaries cropped.jpg

I’ve been scribbling things on paper since I was old enough to chew on a crayon.
Thoughts, notes, diaries, book ideas, embarrassing poems, and even more embarrassing letters. 

Unfortunately, I seem to have kept it all. 
Even more unfortunately for you, I’ve just found them all in a cardboard box in my damp Venetian basement . . .and I’ve decided to share some of it.
Sorry.
From my earliest days at nursery to drunken student nights, life as a mother, various epic personal crises, and travel adventures spanning 30 years from Germany to Iceland, Thailand to New Zealand, these notes are not just the story of a girl growing up (not sure I’ve quite managed that bit yet, if I’m honest), but they also offer a scribbly little portal into a world that now feels long gone;
a simpler, slower Time without smartphones, social media and the constant pressure of immediacy, but three TV channels that switched off in the evenings (?!) and hand-written airmail instead. 
Cunningly, by publishing these notes it means most of the writing work has already been done for me. Result. It’s creative laziness taken to a whole new level, and I highly recommend it.
So here it is. A little life story in words, and some spectacularly bad pictures. Hey, I might start an Etsy shop and sell them. #moneyspinnerorwhat
I doubt they’re of interest to anyone else, but if they illicit any pleasant feelings of misty-eyed nostalgia, or induce any creativity or just some simple enjoyment, then I’m sure 3-year-old me would be very pleased.