Author: Eve Dmochowska

50yr mother of two. Huge procrastinator. Million ideas, few hours. Needs constant reminding that thinking of doing something is not the same as actually doing it. Co-existing with a super-rare lymphoma (and winning!) . Winning at life in general, actually.

Karma – aka, Revenge is Best Served Cold

It’s very difficult to watch horrible, unfair, selfish people get ahead. Even just to watch them carry on with their lives, with no repercussions, as if the havoc they leave in their trail can be brushed under the carpet and never be acknowledged by them, is difficult. On a personal level, I luckily don’t see or experience this often. I can think of maybe two people who have crossed my path and have done me wrong, but I wouldn’t go

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2021

Hello 2021!

I feel as if I spent the whole of 2020 writing about 2020, and so I am not going to do that again. We all know what we know. But that doesn’t mean that I can’t do the other cliched thing, and ponder on my hopes and dreams for 2021. I honestly cannot remember when last any long term plan of mine went according to any reasonable expectation – and I am not making the same mistake again. I am

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50k words in November? Bring it on! (maybe?)

You know, on the one hand I am really happy and proud that I have stuck to this blog, and although I might not post as frequently as I would like to, at least I DO do :-). On the other hand, this is hardly the blog that I wanted to create when I launched it. I wanted something upbeat, and fun, filled with stories of travel, and stories people that I have met, and restaurants I have discovered, and

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Cleanup

Cutting ties

I have a feeling that when I look back at 2020, that the one thing that will identify the year for me (aside from the obvious!) is that this is the year that I learnt to “let go”. Cut ties. Set things loose. And by things I mean things and people. I have cut a lot of people out of my life during the last 6 months, and I am so much better for it. But I have also gotten

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The Guest List

I read another book! This one is The Guest List by Lucy Foley. ($18, Kindle). It’s kind of the modern version of Murder on the Orient Express, except this is a wedding on a small island, where one member of the wedding party is murdered, and we spend the book trying to figure out who, why and by whom. Each chapter is written in the first-person voice of the various characters, and about half way through the book you start

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Why did Covid happen to YOU?

I was thinking about the impact Covid has had on my life. At first look, it’s an even balance of the positive and the negative, and there has certainly been a fair share of each. But if I had to choose, I would have to selfishly say that the pandemic – and specifically the lockdown – came at just the perfect time for me, and it was a heaven-sent gift. I don’t just mean that I needed the slowed down

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Holiday of a lifetime: a vignette

I hope they at least had a good holiday, as holidays go. That they laughed, and played, and spent a lot of time together, and made memories. Because she’d need them. This was in the late 1980’s, in very conservative South Africa. I imagine the father was not open to his wife driving back, not even part of the way, because driving was very much considered a man’s job. (We still have men who have those types of views, even

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Broken: a vignette

She couldn’t believe that she had wet her bed. At her age? No! In her condition? Well, maybe not that unexpected. Worse things had certainly happened. She got up slowly, changed her underwear and bottoms. Then realised…something wasn’t right. She was, of course, highly sensitive to smell, but now she couldn’t smell much. She sniffed her pyjamas. Nothing. An uncomfortable thought started to chime in her head. She went back to her room, opened up the computer. Googled medical signs.

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Vignettes

I am toying with a new addition to this blog. Vignettes. To be honest, there was a fleeting moment when I thought that the book that I want to write should be so titled, and should be a collection of exactly that: vignettes, probably slightly auto-biographical, independent but woven together by a loose thread of belonging to someone’s life. The idea is borne from a will to write down small episodes, either real or imagined, with not too much explanation

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