This morning a ‘ticcing fit’ turned into an involuntary poetry recital when my tics suddenly took flight with Icarus:

“Icarus, your mum was a piece of plastic tubing,
Your father was a bee,
And you flew too close to a Gordon Ramsey lookalike.…

I’m back in London after a lovely weekend away in Cumbria with Will.

When we were travelling back yesterday I ticced, “Poems about sponges”

Will, knowing my tics would take the bait, said ‘Sponge Poem 1’, and the following strange stanzas rolled out:

TH: “Sponge, sponge glorious sponge
Dreaming of discos
While cleaning your bum.”…

I’ve mentioned that my tics love penguins in previous posts. They’re one of a random assortment of things that always make me over excited. Another is when people roll their R’s. Both inexplicably make my tics go bananas.

Just before heading to bed last night I ticced: “What noise do penguins make?”…

Wow! What a glorious day! I could tell it was fine before I’d even raised my blind this morning. Since then the sun’s been beating down without interruption, bathing everything in a beautiful light.

On days like this I particularly value the incredible outdoor spaces we have at work.…

Last week I wrote about my annoying new “What about cats?” tic, but there’s some contention amongst my friends about how new it really is, with some claiming it’s been around for months.

I do have one tic that’s definitely new on the scene though, and I find it a lot less irritating:

“I’m a solid”

As well as enjoying it and the ideas it conjures up, I’m also enjoying the range of responses from my friends.…

I was hanging out with Poppy earlier when I suddenly started having a ‘ticcing fit’ that, without any reason or warning, was abruptly gate-crashed by whales. Fortunately Poppy had the presence of mind to press record on her phone:

“Whale cocks make the panthers jealous.…

I’ve had a new regular tic for the last few weeks: “What about cats?”

Unusually it’s been really irritating me. I don’t normally notice my own tics, particularly regular ones. They quickly become background noise – a constant, gentle reminder that I’m still alive.…

While it’s true to say there have been a number of false alarms in the past, it’s with a heavy heart that I have to report the end of my beloved ‘biscuit’ tic. Last night I found myself watching a repeat of the Great British Bake Off on TV and half way through, completely without warning, I uttered my last biscuit.…

A few days ago I woke in the early hours of the morning having a ‘ticcing fit’. Poppy was doing my overnight support and quickly came to help me.

After five minutes or so my speech returned, or to be more accurate my vocal tics returned.…

I’ve written before about the importance of language in relation to disability, particularly about out-dated words that still sometimes crop up – words like ‘handicapped.’

But today my tics put a new spin on this unpleasant term:

“Handy-Cats”
“Am I handy-cats?”…