Dependence or the lack thereof….

Dependence on other people, on substances or activities is generally thought of in less that glowing terms. From an early age, we are encouraged to make our own choices, to live our own lives, to be our own people [persons??]. In other words, to be independent.




To be autonomous and free.

But still…,

Everyone has those days when they need someone else. It’s a cliché for reason; no man is an island.

Nobody wants to be thought of as that clingy, needy, dependent person but without going to extremes, it helps to have a support system to rely on. In some aspects of our lives I find that we all need someone to help us with something or the other. It’s only natural. Human beings are geared for connectivity, for interdependence and for relationships.

Sometimes it’s just knowing that there is someone there to listen while we have a moan, to smile when we make a bad joke or to make us soup when we feel a bit poorly… it’s what makes life bearable. The fundamental knowledge that we are all in this together.

There’s this quote I love about a friend being someone who knows the song in your heart and can sing it back to you on those occasions when life gets a bit much and you’ve forgotten the words. I have found this to be true on a number of occasions. Though I know I’m a terrible friend but I’ve been truly blessed. I have some awesome people in my life who won’t quite quit, who won’t take no for an answer and who put up with my regular withdrawals from congenial interactions to mope around my little flat, brooding and writing, plotting and planning and generally acting a little bit batty LOL.

They keep me on point, both in my day job and in my private life. Male and female, they are the people who make life tolerable even when it’s been a down day and I can’t tell if I’m going or coming. When the world around me seems to be going mad, they remind me of my sanity and give me hope for tomorrow.

Smiling at the minute as I remember the two guys who gave me a make-up tutorial way, way back when I was just learning to wear lipstick. From them I learnt…

That neon orange was definitely NOT my colour…,

That mascara was good in small amounts …


That plum or berry tones work best with my complexion.

I also remember my adorable gal pals who attempted to teach this dyed-in-the-wool tomboy how to catwalk. The results were hilarious and needless to say, did not work. But it was the thought that counted anyway… The pictures of me wobbling in six inch heels have all been destroyed… [At least I hope they have ;-)]. Sneakers were always more my speed anyway.

May you always have a friend you can call on… and remember, if you don’t, or if you simply need one more,

I’m Here Too.

Much love people, Much Love.



There’s Always Room for Characters at This Inn…


The April feature spotlight in some of my favourite characters is all over. I really enjoyed myself and I hope you did too. I wished I could keep doing it.. then it occurred to me: I can.

So what I decided was that I would leave an open invitation at the wayside of my blog. If anyone out there has a funny, quirky or just interesting character that they would like to feature on the blog, now is the time to get in touch. The next feature should be in July. I think combining it with a fiction fest will make it loads more fun.

Ready, steady, go….

I’ll be waiting…



Smile, Though your heart is Breaking…

And so it begins…

I thought I’d take it easy and lounge away the first couple of weeks in May. Then I found myself blinking twice when I checked my calendar and found out that half the month had flown away. *£%$%&…. Pardon my French..

What a dreamer I am. Sometimes it seems as if time is slipping away faster than the grains of sand would drain through an hourglass. Other times it’s like I’m moving in slow motion and everyone else is dashing off at high-speed velocity. Huh. Relativity at work I guess. Einstein was on to something that’s for sure.

Sit with a hot stove for ten minutes and it seems like an hour…

Sit with a hot chick for an hour and it seems like ten minutes…

ALBERT EINSTEIN. I do not own this image or its copyright.

Image source


The guy was smart, no doubt about it. In some of his photos he appears to be laughing as if he was in on a good joke and only he knew the punch line. Figures.

Still, no matter what you’re doing, it makes sense to find a reason to smile … No matter how seriously we take life, we’ll none of us be able to change the future anyway.

Like the old song says

You’ll find that life goes more smoothly by

If you’ll just smile…

Meanwhile, while I’m not exactly thesaurus surfing today, I have been doodling (only a little, I’m at work) little pictures that depict the different words that conjure up the image of an expression of mirth .

(See what I mean?)

Here are a couple of my favourites but without the doodles.


 smirk                                                                             snort

laugh                                                      guffaw


Grin                                                  beam                                                       titter

I’ve been told I’m a giggler, but I do snort and snigger  on occasion as well.

Hope y’all are having a happy day.

Much love people, much love.



A Place Called Home.

I went back my childhood roots this week. Spent some time hooking up with my sister and went around to my mum’s old place. It wasn’t the same. Mum’s been gone going on four years now and while a lot of things reminded me of her at her old stomping grounds, time has definitely moved on. The walls have been painted, the curtains have been changed. Even the garden is no longer the same.  It made me a little sad I must confess. I remembered a rhyme from my pre-school days.

What makes a home,

Is not that wall that runs between kitchen and store,

What makes a home,

is a sweet mum,

and loving dad,

living with me,

and my sisters,

and brothers.

  I think what bugged me the most was the realisation that  now that the folks are gone, our home isn’t still our home, if you get my meaning. My siblings and I all left home ages ago, busy with our own lives. Now our house  seems like just a shell of a once happy place where I lost my milk teeth and bought my first pair of jeans. Oh and buried our first pet, our dog Lucky.  Though  it served as the backdrop for many of my happy memories from yester year, I found myself wanting to sing to the house “Now you are just somewhere that I used to live… a place I used to know.”

Getting back to my place I was glad to be… home? Yes, home, in my own space with my own stuff and my own collection of music, art and all of life’s essentials. It’s my little nest and I enjoy staying there. Home then, I think it safe to call it. Home.

Our character spotlight continues and more fun is on the way so excuse my nostalgic self and check out the guys visiting with us this week.

Much Love people, Much Love.



Some mornings you wake up and it seems like opening your eyes is the worst possible idea in the world. If getting up is optional that day, then that’s the cue for you to lounge back and indulge in a little bit of lazy me-time, just thinking stuff through and wondering “What if…?”

If it’s not one of those days then it’s the groan-moan-and move routine.

Luckily, this morning was one of those lazy lie-in days for me and boy did I milk it. Refused to get up and about till way past midday and even then I only went downstairs to raid the fridge in an attempt to quell the yelling of the army of hungry bears prowling around in my belly. Totally blissful, well-deserved time-out.

Huh. If only tomorrow was Friday instead of Monday. Oh well…

Have been enjoying the official soundtrack of LesMis as I lounged around in my sweats. Empty Chairs at Empty Tables seems to be my favourite, closely followed by One Day More.

“Tomorrow we’ll discover what Our God in Heaven has in store…..”

Anyway I am totally making up for it right now as I am en-route to my desk and am hopeful that the rest of the week will be productive and busy (in a good way). Hope you all have a great week as well.

Much Love people,





I’ve got characters on the brain, but in a good way.

Ever read a story and then find out that the people in the tale stay with you long after you reach the end? I do, all the time. Forget plot lines and scenic descriptions. It’s the Characters that make the stories worth reading. That keep me stuck in the pages till the very end. And the interplay between characters is what leaves readers like me wanting more.

So April’s my month for paying homage to the characters that make the stories click. Some of them will be the main protagonists; others will be from the supporting cast. All of them will be awesome, that much I can promise. To get these wondrous figments of other people’s imagination on the blog, for my entertainment and yours, I cried …and… and I begged  and I said … just kidding.

This feature presentation comes courtesy of the goodwill and cool natures of the authors and is completely free of charge. So come and meet come really interesting people…too bad they’re fictional … Or maybe that’s part of their charm.

Enjoy, Cassandra.

It’s a Simple Matter of Words.

Came across a news article this week about a poetry competition where the winner was found to have borrowed a large chunk of his winning submission from someone else.
Several things caught my interest while I was burrowing deeper into the tale of literary intrigue and theft of words.
Firstly the age of the person involved and the lameness of the excuses he offered for his behavior. I would think that an adult of over thirty years of age would have a well rounded perception of what constitutes a “mistake” or a “misunderstanding”.

The other thing was the response of people whose work had been stolen. I’ve never been plagarised to my knowledge but I can only imagine what it might feel like.
‘They’re just words’ some people might say but writing is a form of creation and can be a very intense, personal and sometimes painful process. Words come from a place deep inside and often when all else has been taken from us, words are all we have left.
To have something you gave birth to stolen and changed… nah, I can’t imagine that’s a good feeling at all.
One of the affected poets wrote an open letter which you can see on her blog by following the link below.

I loved the words she used.




I wished I could find a way to make them rhyme with disgusted and annoyed but hey, I’m no poet =). Perhaps if the unfortunate perpetrator of this verbal robbery had admitted his lack of poetic skills upfront, all this furor might have been avoided.