by Liz Champion | May 23, 2020 | Memoir
I stand in front of the mirror feeling dizzy and a little sick. At first, I thought it was the light catching on my hair and making it shine. I even thought it was my natural blonde starting to come through after weeks of lockdown. But, on closer inspection, I realise...
by Liz Champion | May 16, 2020 | Memoir
Dad is turning 70 during lockdown. We cancel the surprise family holiday to Craster. Here’s what you could have won, I write in his card, including a picture of the beautiful Northumberland coast. Then I go online and order a badge saying ‘70 effing hell’; a T-shirt...
by Liz Champion | May 9, 2020 | Memoir
My shorts have shrunk. I stand in front of the mirror, trying to fasten the denim cut-offs that fitted perfectly last summer. I stretch and pull the material and somehow manage to force the button and hole together. For a second, I feel victorious but then realise...
by Liz Champion | May 2, 2020 | Memoir
There is not an ounce of flour to be found anywhere. ‘The shelves are empty,’ Mum phones to tell me. ‘I’ve looked everywhere.’ ‘I think I have some,’ I say, not wanting to get her hopes up. This is the third time she’s mentioned flour — or the lack of it — this week....
by Liz Champion | Apr 25, 2020 | Memoir
‘Do you think you’re in news overload?’ Chris asks me on Thursday night as we sit down to watch the evening news. ‘We have to be informed,’ I tell him. ‘It’s important.’ ‘But you’ve got it on all the time. It’s not healthy.’ He has a point. After watching the news...
