When I was about five years old, my mother ripped off my big toenail. It was a complete accident, but it bled like fury and afterwards karma came back on her. I was determined that if I could just find the right cushion on the three piece suite, it would stop hurting. (Please stop laughing – I was five!). Of course it didn’t work and I got blood all over her cane furniture.
My father taught me how to handle firearms. When I was about twelve he bought me my own rifle, a Brno .22, perfect for shooting rabbits. He has been on various fuliguline bird shoots – he’s a very good shot.
I have profoundly itchy feet. Six months is about my limit in the UK before I feel I just have to go somewhere else, preferably for longer than six months. I have been back in the UK for a year and a day, having spent the previous two and a half years in Cusco, Peru. I intend to go east next time, maybe to Thailand.
I have been writing all my life, more or less, but I tend to bloviate, which I hate. This isn’t helped by the fact that I am hopelessly messy, to the point where an ex-boyfriend suggested that if there was ever a drugs raid on my home, no one would search my bedroom because it would look as though they already had.
However, I am an excellent cook, especially with a sharp blade around, and love to look after people I care about, which includes cooking and doing laundry. However, I do expect them to help with the washing up.
My favourite thing in the whole world is horseriding. I have been very lucky in my life, having had the opportunity to ride some beautiful horses in some beautiful locations – nothing compares to full gallop on an open road.
Now, I might have said something above that isn’t strictly true – can you work out what it is?