So, hello from the other side. I'm staying at the Villa Decius, set in parkland almost equidistant to the airport and the Old Town Market Square of Krakow, writes columnist Liz Breslin.
How many emotions can you pack into the start of one sentence, wonders Liz Breslin.
Being away from home can today be a matter of so far and yet so near. A bit like cricket, writes columnist Liz Breslin.
Now is the winter of our discontent - and there's plenty to get upset about.
Liz Breslin pays tribute to Sports Parents that she's seen and been.
Essential oils should be treated with the greatest respect, writes Liz Breslin.
I always wanted to wear glasses, growing up. I felt it would mark me out as the intelligent being I would one day blossom into, writes Liz Breslin.
This week I am tending towards the euphoric. I've been spending time in festivalland, a kid in the Festival of Colour lollyshop, writes Liz Breslin.
I'm tying myself up in inarticulable knots this week, thinking about how to write about International Women's Day, writes Liz Breslin.
Eighty-nine years of bridge jumping and a sign is trying to stamp out decades of local history with no consultation or sense, writes Liz Brelin.
Once upon a time, I was at one of those meetings where people do that icebreaker chat that goes - Tell us a secret about yourself. This was my big reveal: I love watching Next Top Model, writes LIz Breslin.
Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?
It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas, writes Liz Breslin. The fridge is stuffed, the house is full and the car parks in town are more crowded than the mitten in that Ukrainian folk tale.
There are times when it 's very good to be able to overcome self-doubt. To dwell in a state of certainty, writes Liz Breslin.
You can’t be good at all the things all the time, and nobody likes a show off, but I would like to be a little bit less distinctly average at growing things, says Liz Breslin.
When there's nothing remotely interesting on TV, channelling your inner collage artist is not the answer, writes Liz Breslin.
They call it a weed in these parts. And yet I'm driving home with an eye out on the green beyond the roadside every day so I can catch it in its first bloom, writes Liz Breslin.
The garden wants a good weed. The pantry needs clearing. The fridge, a good cleaning. The car needs maintaining. The house interior needs painting. The house exterior needs painting, sighs Liz Breslin.
What would you sing though, if you had to take part? asks Liz Breslin.
Today, I'm going to be drinking coffee. Of course, because it's a day with a "y'' in it. But today I can drink coffee with special purpose and meaning because it's International Coffee Day, writes Liz Breslin.