January – sick and tired?

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?

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…

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

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