Hello Folks, thanks for dropping by.

Now, I loved my Dad, who died in 2008 aged 73. Too soon, too young.

He taught me to play Backgammon when I was only 3 or 4, helping me understand the rules and vagaries of chance with every roll of the dice. The year he died, I’d sit up late at night playing Backgammon with myself, all the house lights blazing, while a depressive fog of grief and loss rolled over me for months.

One of our other favourite games, when I was similarly small, was a song we’d sing while I stood barefoot on his feet, my nose to his belly, as he high-stepped round the room, holding my hands tight.

“Tiptoe, through the tulips, through the tulips, that’s the way we’ll go, We’ll tiptoe, through the tulips, Today… “

I’ve no idea the provenance of this rhyme, or what else it may say? Perhaps I’m even recalling it wrong? But we giggled and stomped, getting faster and faster, as I tried not to fall off!

Such a joyful memory. Our shared commitment to the challenge; his ultimate power in making it harder and harder while he sped up; the safety of his hands gripping mine; the delight of laughing and singing together, just the two of us.

I realize what a lucky child I was: so many friends don’t share beloved memories of their fathers.

And now, aged nearly 59, I feel like I’m playing that game again. I’m tiptoeing and humming softly, holding my own hands tight, while I walk and skip slowly towards a new human I may one day love…

I’m excited, nervous, intrigued, and strangely, sometimes very calm.

It’s early days in the dance, and the song is barely audible. But the memory of that delight with my Dad has returned, and I felt compelled to write it down. Some of you have been here for a while, recalling my various loves over the years… so I’m just letting you know now that we’re possibly off again, on a new adventure.

Please tiptoe through the tulips with me.

In gratitude for good old Dads, & new courageous choices, G xO