Last week we visited a gorgeous pub, doubling as a village shop, in a tiny village in Hampshire. The food was excellent, the atmosphere perfect, the fire warm. The waitresses were very good and very young. Between mouthfuls of beef and mushroom pie (in red wine sauce - yum), I stared at them furtively. They … Continue reading Gifts in skin
The lad in the chemist was polite. He inclined his head and nodded with understanding, but clearly felt obliged to invoke the rule book. "Madam, you know you can buy them over the counter," he remarked, motioning grandly towards the racks of pills and potions behind me. "Well, yes I know," I replied, "It's just...my … Continue reading In praise of literalism
If I've said anything random to you lately, I apologise. There's only a certain number of times you can acceptably say, "Sorry?" or "Pardon?" without being written off as decrepit or deaf. Though I am, it seems, the latter, for weeks and weeks after a cold. It's not that I can't hear anything. I can … Continue reading Fearfully and wonderfully made
I know this sounds a bit barmy but I think ageing has little to do with age. When you look in the mirror, who are you expecting to see? A child, a teenager, a young person making your way in the world? In other words, how old are you on the inside? I know children who … Continue reading How do you age?
The old man leans on the gate at the edge of the park. It is heavier than he remembers but then so are most things. Like his own stomach and the bag of weekly shopping. He sighs. If only he had taken better care of himself when the whole damn thing had started – the … Continue reading Waiting for Dad
I refuse to believe you get fussier as you get older more experienced (we've banned the "o" word in our house due to occasional bouts of melancholy). I mean it's true that answering the question, "Can I get you a cup of tea?" is slightly long-winded these days - "Yes please, quite strong, but not too strong. … Continue reading Tea and Other Transforming Things
I am one of those people who sometimes puts things down and can't find them again - lesson plans, cheques, small children. I once left my son in the meat aisle in a supermarket while I popped round the corner for salad, then couldn't remember which meat aisle (Chicken? Beef? Delicatessen?) He turned up eventually, … Continue reading Things I’ve lost and the art of growing down
Welcome to the incomparable Fran Hill, who is an old friend, fellow writer. and a blogger whose site I visit again and again when I need a laugh or another way of looking at life. Or both. If you enjoy her musings (below) you'd really enjoy having a click-around on her site, Being Me, at … Continue reading Eyebrows