On the 10th January this year, I wrote a blog posting, titled Charlie, and started it with these words - 'When the outside world dips its toe into our lives, sometimes the ripples are impossible to ignore.' Now, yet again the ripples wash against the feet of us all. Yet again - unbelievably - Paris has been brutally attacked. Yet again brain-numbing atrocity trespasses into our lives. Yet again the world outside our homes cannot be ignored. And that, I think, is the point - our homes: those places where we feel safe. Our homes, where terrorism should not dip its dirty fingers, but does - on our TV screens, radios, laptops and newspapers. Our homes, where we can believe and live and enjoy whatever books or music or film or TV series or sport we like. Simply because we are free. Yes, we dream of better things. But we can dream because we are free. We forget at our peril how fortunate we are to have this freedom. In the free West. To feel safe. To live in a place that we...
Stories and musings on life composed while walking the dog. Plus the odd rant.