My husband is looking after me. This is not a new thing, he’s nice like that – that’s one of the reasons I married him. That and the fact that he came for Christmas one year and literally wouldn’t go away - six kids later I figured I was stuck with him. We were sat,…
The one where I forget to write a blog.
Sunrise over Treown The cool grey light of 4 am seeps beneath bedroom curtains. No matter how I straighten them the night before - battening down the hatches, blocking out the light - by morning cracks have appeared and sunlight pierces the room, refracting into rainbows. This morning I rise before the sun, before even…
Bore da! Sut wyt ti? I have been learning Welsh. I’d wanted to for years, I live in Wales, after all. With courses moved to Zoom over lockdown and the course being half price – I could never afford the original £90, I am now dysgu Cymraeg. Learning a new language is challenging for everyone…
No words- just a photo I've taken that speaks of my week
Wordless Wednesdays
Seasonal Illness Stickers by Michele Bruttomesso is licensed under CC-BY-NC-ND 4.0 I came home from London with covid. It has not been the one where people say it was just like a bad cold and didn’t stop them doing much – a weird combination of bragging about the strength of their immune system, combined with…
Star Trek Communicator Badge (badge) by Unknown maker is licensed under CC-BY-NC-SA 4.0 Today is National Caramel Day. – I don’t know where? Everywhere, I guess? Are you prepared? Do you have a box of caramels, robed in chocolate, soft and sticky enough to rip a filling out? Are you planning on making caramel sauce…
Sunrise over Newtown I am writing this at 7.30 on Sunday night and it is still light. In the garden I can hear a chorus of blackbirds serenading the setting sun. On the distant hills a kite calls, underpinned by the thud, thud, thud of some distant party beat. The clocks have sprung forward. Spring…
Seed sowing and tomato obsessions.
I once said to Michael Sheen - you don’t get to say that very often, do you? I once said to Michael Sheen that saying you wanted to be a writer when I was growing up was like saying you wanted to be an astronaut. For a girl, growing up in the relentless poverty of…
The river is resplendent in the colours of the season. Oak leaves turn biscuit brown, the Gelder Rose a dark lipstick pink, deepens to vermillion. Field Maples litter leaves the colour of sunshine, while Lime, leaves limp like hankies, drip to the floor. The Willow, luxuriating in a great unrobing, scatters its leaves across the…
Bordering Grey 