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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4 Tuesday

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Why me?   How can it be that I am me? After all, I could just as easily have been a flea, or a pea. How did I get here – to 3.52, right now in this place? And of everyone who’s ever been so far – the eleventy kertrillion former people, representatives of the […]

3 Monday

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Squeeze   All of a sudden there’s a squeeze around the heart. Sharp. A wincing intake.   In a photo, it’s not the summery smiles with ice cream ghosts that nettles, but the unspooling since.   I feel it in a sugar crunch, sharp with lemon, in the opening of a Top 40 climber. In […]

2 Sunday

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Downpour   What I love about rain is its sheer bloody toldyousoness its smell, of course the plash, pitter and plop its ’bow a smug waterproof coat strangers talking kaboom, flash thunder storm dry firesides wellington boots with fleecy linings its stopped play lushy swishy grass clouds smearing the overthere hills a single bulging orb […]