The narrow blades knifing through earth showed no hint of bloom. Carly watched them, remembering the promise on the pack, Plant now, blooms for Mothers Day. She watered the pot before school, all anxious-eyed and pajama-ed, curtain of hair swinging onto cheeks sharp with cold . What if they weren't ready in time? On the way to … Continue reading Other Mothers and the Kindness of Spring – Short Fiction for Mothers Day
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
At what point do you stop saying Happy Christmas and start saying Happy New Year? I'm never quite sure. After all, the Twelve Days of Christmas start on Christmas Day so perhaps we shouldn't say Happy New Year until 5th January, when incidentally, you're supposed to take down your decorations and NOT BEFORE (but who … Continue reading Happy Old Year and the Little Painted House
I stare at the sign in amusement. Let's all get home safely? What's that all about? I know I don't get out much and I haven't, thankfully, been on the M1 for a while, but have I missed a sea change in British culture? I mean, it's a bit pally isn't it? Surely, Wishing you a safe journey, or … Continue reading Empty nests and the unnecessary use of signage
I'm trying to decide how to age. Not on the outside - I have little choice about that and am coming to terms with veiny hands and neck wrinkles like the skin of a T Rex - but on the inside, where it counts. After all that's the only part I can control. Like when … Continue reading How to Age and the Joy of Nasal Flushing
It's been a strange week. I'm on my way home from work after what is called a challenging day. It's a fitting end really; that is to say, there is darkness, traffic, and rain-galloping cats and dogs. And the lower lid of my right eye keeps doing this thing where it moves without my help. Like … Continue reading Advent, sheep and a kiss from a stranger
When it was all over, she resigned her job, packed a case and flew to Montpellier. It was strange really. While it was all unravelling – thirty years of careful working life – she knew, at the end of it, she would need to go away for a bit. But where? Night after night, stiff … Continue reading The Olive Tree
The older I get, the more people I meet and the more often I go on London trains and have direct, unintentional access to The London Evening Standard, the more I realise that there are so many ways to die. (Sorry to begin your New Year like this, but it’s just true). You can get … Continue reading There are so Many Ways to Die!