Who do I think I am?

Yours Truly The fruit of passion or rage I cannot tell. Or, perhaps, indifference. Held in the body, but not the heart, Bound by duty: An oddly cold embrace. Then, the shedding of misfortune – Liberation Tearing only at the flesh. And scars alone bear witness To what was born. A life. A distant memory, if that.   I have never liked the programme Who Do You Think You Are, so last night when I was flicking through the TV guide with the remote, I was hoping my wife would not notice┬áthat it was due to show in less than ten minutes. She did notice, however, and when I shimmied back up the list we discovered that it was Julie Walters and I agreed to give it a go. I have watched a few minutes of the programme here and there, and the whole concept of discovering ones great-great-grandmother feels Read full article, you know you want to…