Being me is, for many reasons, frustrating. Being my friend is probably, for many of the same reasons and also many different ones, more frustrating. I had a rough start to friendship when it really counts (ie. at secondary school where, if you’ve read any of my blog, you’ll know that things weren’t exactly great) […]Read More are you my friend?
In which we learn that everybody makes mistakes and I am a stripy badger.Read More Tell them Daisy has changed her mind.