Walls Book Tag

Something I haven’t shared on my blog – but that most people in my real life know – is that I’m a massive One Direction fan. I’ve followed the different paths their solo careers have taken, but my heart will always be taken by Doncaster-native Louis Tomlinson. He’s humble, altruistic, a brilliant lyricist and a completed underrated singer in my opinion. I thought I would make a book tag for his debut solo album Walls. Please feel free to do this tag even if you aren’t familiar with his music because I’d love to see everyone’s answers!

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There Will Always Be Laundry; Make Time for Joy!

As many millions find themselves in self-isolation, it’s easy feel like we are squandering our time if we are not “productive” enough. Household chores and little fix-it jobs that we’ve left off for weeks or months suddenly seem imperative. But let me let you in on a little secret – since the dawn of time, since you were born, until you the day you die, there will be chores. There will always be dirty laundry and overflowing trash and drippy faucets and overstuffed closets waiting for us to organize them.

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Would You Believe…Hanson?

In December of 2015, I’d just finished my 1-year teaching contract in Japan.  Hungry for adventure, I set off on a one-month sojourn along the eastern Australian coastline with a Scotswoman, a Frenchman and a Canberra-native in a Britz campervan.  (No, this isn’t the start of a joke).  There were all the usual road-trip high-jinks – forgetting to latch the kitchen drawers before hitting the highway, being delayed when our window was shattered by a ride-on mower at a rest stop, dodging the occasional kangaroo crossing the road, jamming the back door when we accidentally shut a sweater in it, battling plague-like proportions of flies and never ending sand, having our drying towels pooped on by a wombat.  You know – the usual things.  #justaustraliathings

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SELL OUT: Does Art Suffer from Success?

When I was sixteen, I was a fan of a one-man-band, Dashboard Confessional.  My friends and I traveled miles to tiny clubs all up and down the east coast, stood shivering outside in line in winter in bad neighborhoods, got our ribs bruised up against the partition in mosh pit, covered our backpacks and messenger bags in band pins from Hot Topic, went thirsty or hungry or without sleep – all to hear the soul-bearing lyrics of someone we considered to be a modern day poet.

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