Crossfitting, pancreas acting, single mum to three
It sounded like a mix between an owl being castrated and a badly tuned harp being plucked out of order. It was the type of sound that worms its way into your very soul and wraps itself around the joints of your brain and stays there like an annoying in law who asks for yet…
Let me describe the room as I stood in the corner feeling decidedly awkward as I clutched a wriggling BB to my chest. To the front of me was a bag filed high with instruments of all varieties, tambourines,xylophones, drums, even recorders. To my right stood a bunch of mothers, upon first glance I would…