In a bun dance

If I'm going to get something, I usually get it in spades - luck (both kinds), children, clutter, dirty laundry, bright ideas, daft ideas...

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Poem: I come from …

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I come from the north, From grey harling, drizzled crags and scree. Dandelion and burdock. Engage low gear now.   Bacon for breakfast. Breaking in your boots. Passing places and bloody tourists. The library’s parquet gleam. Peewits and feral cats.   Toasted arse against the Aga. Wellies and broken veins. Creosote on the fence. Shirt […]

Dreaming of blue mud

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  When I think about mud, I know that it is the inevitable consequence of the nourishing rain meeting hospitable soil. I think about mud quite a lot… being here. I don’t blame the rain. Not at all. Its occasional parade pandemonium comes with a silver lining: snazzy raincoats, lush landscapes and that smell. But the […]

Home fires

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Well, we’re in. And I love it. The way the fire reflects in the floor… The view over the field… (ignoring the builders’ portaloo) The warmth… The feeling of landing…. Of course, there are boxes everywhere. And stuff inexplicable things that I can’t get rid of. But it’s home.  

Distractions on the way to the end of the tunnel

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It’s weird. The past 12 months have seen so many frightening and monumental things – firsts, lasts, and who’d have thoughts – yet, now, less than a week from what I hope to be a finishing line and I’m scared. Our new house is nearly finished and (everything crossed) there are no more obstacles, delays […]