January. For me, the very word conjures up things like dead poinsettias, stark trees, mud. To say nothing of left-over Christmas cake looking ashamed of itself for existing. Do you remember that song January? It was released by the group Pilot in 1975. I was thirteen and can still sing it off by heart (not … Continue reading January – sick and tired?
Tag: small things
Lifting the heart on a grey day
I don't know what it is about daffodils but they're such HAPPY flowers. The colour of a smile. Not that yellow is the actual colour of a smile (unless you have bad teeth) but it should be. I'm not going out much at present, but my husband came back from the supermarket again with a … Continue reading Lifting the heart on a grey day
Digging up daisies
So many questions: - What are social distancing procedures on pavements? Should I tint my own eyebrows? Shall I grow a beard? As far as pavements are concerned, I think there should be a very clear rule that the person on the outside steps into/across the road (if it's quiet) or onto the kerb, while … Continue reading Digging up daisies
From there to here…
The Vaucluse is the most beautiful place on earth. Well, perhaps not THE most beautiful. Cappodocia, Turkey probably is....then there's Holy Island. Well, alright, there are quite a few beautiful place on earth and the Vaucluse is one of them. In fact, on our recent holiday, I found it so beautiful, that it actually hurt in … Continue reading From there to here…
Waiting for Dad
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
The eye (and ear) of the beholder
"...If you listen carefully, the earth is singing." I swung round sharply. The two girls nearly crashed into me, their hands cradling petri-dishes filled with wood lice, ants and a fat snail with a shell crisis. I had one of those rare moments of tenderness. "That's beautiful," I said, "Really beautiful!" They looked up at … Continue reading The eye (and ear) of the beholder
Other Mothers and the Kindness of Spring – Short Fiction for Mothers Day
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
Sleep mode
Sleep mode - the pc stays on but uses low power. Apps stay open so when the pc wakes up, you're instantly back to where you left off. When I was younger, I could sleep anywhere. I've spent nights on floors, coaches, trains and under stars on the side of mountains. Once, memorably, I slept … Continue reading Sleep mode
Tea and Other Transforming Things
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
Hills and giving thanks on All Hallows Eve
We're climbing the Malvern Hills, and I'm wheezing like a catfish. I briefly consider whether dropping dead on a narrow path between trees in sight of the summit, is a good way to go. An action exit, so to speak, in pursuit of something beautiful. But decide against it. There are few walkers up here … Continue reading Hills and giving thanks on All Hallows Eve
stillwonderinghere 