Have you seen the mighty Alan Rickman and Juliet Stevenson in Truly Madly Deeply ?

If you haven’t, then you ought to. There’s a scene in the film where a bereft Stevenson, (Rickman’s died, so you would be, wouldn’t you?) nervously struggles to introduce herself to a new date. She successfully distracts herself by hopping on one leg throughout her vigorous monologue - which works surprisingly well.  

So, please start hopping on one leg as you consider the following:

  • I’m 55.

  • I’ve lived all over the UK and Canada but seem to keep bouncing back to the North-West of England. I share my home with my somewhat quirky husband, Michael and particularly quirky cat, Vera.

  • I love Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc, which tastes even more delicious when cycling through the vineyards there.

  • I cannot get enough of my precious overseas trips visiting my daughter and her family in beautiful New Zealand.

  • I love seeing my son and his wonderful daughters grow up here in Bury, Lancashire.

  • I play Goalkeeper for two netball teams - with consistent enthusiasm but less consistent performance.  

  • I work within complex safeguarding as a family therapist. It’s stressful and I love it. I hope I’m good at it.

  • My family and loved ones have banned me from watching television with them. I have a low viewing threshold which I struggle to keep to myself. How does so much appalling stuff make it to the screen?

  • I’m obsessed with all things second-hand. Or pre-loved, as the posh folk prefer to call it.   

  • I love dancing. The wilder and more ridiculous, the better.

  • I bloody love writing. I’m late to the swearing party (religious upbringing) so feel entitled to cuss now and then. I write when I’m feeling good; and not so good. When I’m home and away, when I’m dreaming and when I’m conscious. I’m aware how cheesy that sounds, but it’s true.

You can stop hopping on one leg now. You must be exhausted.