About Me

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Vancouver, Canada
Originally from a small seaside town in the North of England, I lived and worked in France, Germany, Belgium, Switzerland and the Maldive Islands before moving to Canada in 1995 - where I intended to stay 'just a couple of years'. Well, I'm still here. I live with my fabulous (Canadian) husband, Lorne, in Vancouver's Westside, close to beaches & downtown. We opted for kitties over kids and are proud parents to 3 wonderful rescues; Mel & Louis, who we adopted in 2010, and little miss Ella, who joined us in 2013. I miss my family in the UK but luckily my sister and best friend, Victoria, lives just down the street with her family. I remain very European at heart and would love to move back there, even for a while. Hopefully I'll convince Lorne & the kitties one day. Besides, I'm fluent in French & German but rarely get chance to use either here. Outside of work I love photography, writing, making cards, working out, camping, kayaking, horse riding & most things really. I've always been an animal lover, support several animal protection organizations and haven't eaten meat in 27 years.
Words To Live By:
We call them dumb animals, and so they are, for they cannot tell us how they feel, but they do not suffer less because they have no words. Anna Seawell (Author of Black Beauty)


Mar 21, 2010

'Daffodils' by William Wordsworth

Before they all disappear for another year and, as an ode to this being one of Dad's favourite poets and poems, I thought I'd post this classic by William Wordsworth

Daffodils
I wandered lonely as a Cloud
That floats on high o'er Vales and Hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd
A host of dancing Daffodils;
Along the Lake, beneath the trees,
Ten thousand dancing in the breeze.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Outdid the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay
In such a laughing company:
I gazed and gazed but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude,
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the Daffodils.

William Wordsworth, 1804

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