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Thursday, November 9, 2017

The Paint has Dried all Blue

9th Nov 2017

Prompt from six sentence stories :


The Paint has Dried all Blue

Lily fell backwards and turned her face away to avoid the hot air as she opened the oven door.
"Be careful," called her father from the living room where he sat, surrounded by papers, old photos and  plates and cups with food congealed hard into them.
She carried the tray with a tea towel, stepping between all the debris and stood in front of him, her fair hair falling in wispy waves down her red face.
"Look dad, the paint has dried all blue," she frowned,  put the figures that she'd baked on the floor in front of him and knelt beside them.
"They're lovely, hun and mum would be so proud of you carrying on her tradition," he stroked her head with one hand whilst wiping away a tear with the other.
Lily's mum had died of cancer eight months before at the age of thirty seven and Lily struggled to do everything she thought her mother would have liked , including making crib figures out of salt dough, which was an activity they normally did together.
Image result for free pictures of dough crib figures

Sunday, November 5, 2017

Work Ethic

5th Nov 2017

I have found a list of poetry prompts for November so I thought I'd give it a go.. It'll keep me going as I don't seem to have much inspiration of my own.
Today's prompt is "Work Ethic", which is very timely as I've just discovered a book I want to read entitled "Deep Work" by Carl Newport. ( Rules for focused success in a distracted world.)  Has anybody out there read it? It's a bit expensive to buy, only having been released last year . I think I might see if the library will get it for me.

Work Ethic

Having a real job would be easier
than sitting here trying to motivate myself
to do the work I must.
With no boss to answer to or oversee me
I procrastinate and use avoidance techniques
do anything but the thing
I should be doing.
Come on now, get to it, focus
you've got this
you can do this
OK a cup of coffee forst
then I'll start.

What do You Carry?

5th Nov 2017 

It's so cold today. I've got four layers on but my fingers and feet are still like polar ice.

What are we carrying ? Do we feel it's burdensome? Could we let go of some things,  rearrange others ? Are we weighed down and would we like to feel somewhat lighter? These are some of the questions that came to my mind with a particular poem we pondered at the Poetry for Wellbeing workshop that I attended last week.

It was interesting what came up . I remembered a time when I had all the children at home. I was always chasing my tail trying to keep up with everything and had an enormous pile of ironing which , no matter how hard I worked, I never seemed to get to the end of .
So this poem came out of that:

The Ironing

And the whole pile is slipping,
it'll end up on the floor
it'll get all dirty 
and I'll have to do more
My husbands shirts
ten or twelve
my four son's school uniform
trousers - cotton
the girls skirts - pleated.
It's the first thing I see
when I enter the room,
this mighty monster
prophet of doom
looking at me,
goading me
daring me
I'm not going anywhere
until you make
time to get round to me
It'll keep you awake
But today I've decided
I'll not do it anymore
for all I care,
It can fall on the floor
Ah no, that's no good
let's fold it neatly
and put it away
get rid of the bully 
yes, that's the way.
Right, clear the table
and away we go,
a pile for each person
they'll never know
And before I know it 
the jobs all done.
Now, time for a cuppa
and a currant bun

Wednesday, November 1, 2017

All Saints

1st Nov 2017

All Saints Day

I wonder how many children, or adults for that matter, celebrated Halloween yesterday evening. We saw some children trick or treating and later adults all dressed up in rather ghoulish costumes, no doubt on their way to parties to have lots of fun.
Well that's great,  but will any of them know what Halloween means?

The word Halloween literally means the evening before All Hallows Day or All Saints Day which is celebrated on the 1st November ( today).
There are varied sources for the reason for the traditions that have grown up around Halloween and you can easily search them on google.
I just want, today, to focus on saints. What is a saint?
In the Catholic Church we have many canonised saints held up to us to inspire us to get closer to God ourselves. Who are these people and can any of us be one of them? Wouldn't we need to be praying all day in a convent to be worthy of the title, saint. Wouldn't it be impossible in my busy profession, in my hectic family life to reach the heights of sanctity.

Well, no. St Josemaria, a modern day saint,  canonised as recently as 2002, called by Pope John Paul 11, the "Saint of Ordinary Life"  said:
"God wants us to be saints.  You and I belong to Christs family, for he himself has chosen us before the foundation of the world, to be saints, to be blameless in his sight, for love of him, having predestined us to be his adopted children through Jesus Christ according  to the purpose of his will. We have been chosen gratuitously by Our Lord. His choice of us sets us a clear goal. Our goal is personal sanctity, as St Paul insistently reminds us, haec est voluntas Dei: santificatio vestra, "this is the will of God: your sanctification". Let us not forget, then, that we are in our masters sheepfold in order to achieve that goal. "      ( Friends of God)

Each one has their own path- the scientist , the shop worker, the mother at home looking after her small children - all are called to the same life of holiness through their work, turning everything they do into prayer and love for God.  It is at the same time both the easiest and the hardest thing.
But it's also a great adventure .

Today, we don't just celebrate those saints who've made it to the altars but the many more ordinary , holy people, who are living their lives and giving Glory to God. You might know some .

Image result for picture of all saints

Octpowrimo 31 Water

1st Nov 2017

So, we come to the end of October and the end of the octpowrimo challenge. I have enjoyed ot so much and looking back on the month I can see that some of my random words might be worthy of a revisit , so that'll keep me busy.

So here is my last offering

My theme for these two poems


I am the river
sometimes strong, fierce,
sometimes a trickle, almost
I am the river,
wide, winding,  full
then rushing, gushing,
down from the
I am the river
many lives depend on me
I am the river

Clouds, close can almost touch
white wisps blotting blue
or, slate grey and green.
Down the scree a waterfall steps
depositing pools in plateaus
dropping in sheets - six,
seven metres
filling the air with whooshing
background sound
Along valley floor
flows the water
it snakes its way more slowly till
departing, disappearing behind
A mountain

Cascade d'Ars

Monday, October 30, 2017


30th Oct 2017

Where on earth to go with the prompt today .
Oh well, here we go then:


She thought it was forbidden
so she always kept it hidden
and only when she'd died
did they find out

She was a quiet one they said
finding the box under the bed
who'd of guessed this was
what she was about

One and all they told their story
how they thought her grim and gory
but none had thought her
capable of this

They put the suitcase on the bed
right beside the girl  now dead
and while they pondered each
gave her a kiss.

Sunday, October 29, 2017

Octpowrimo 28 and 29

29th Oct 2017

So the clocks have gone back and I lay in bed awake for a bit and now am up and it's only just gone six. How lovely to see the day break through the black  that was night. I do love to get an early start.

We are coming to the last few days of the octpowrimo challenge and although I didn't manage to write everyday I have produced the right number of poems, at least till now.
I have enjoyed reading some of the other participants work too . All so varied .

If you want to have a look go to:

Day 28
The theme for today is belonging:

                                                                          A Haiku:


Rub between fingers
stems of lavender flowers
breathe in lost loved ones

Image result for picture of lavender flower

Day 29


On the ground now  leaves -russet and golden
Crispy, crunchy underfoot
The last few to surrender  remain 
On the tree, mottled green, 
Bravely hanging onto the bare skeleton 
Even they will fall before long 
Remember no more the fruitful warmth of youth

Saturday, October 28, 2017

Taste of Satisfaction, Held, No Roses

28th Oct 2017

Good morning. There  is certainly an autumnal chill in the air this morning, with chimneys puffing smoke heavenward.
I went to a writing for well being workshop yesterday. It's the first time in ages that I have written with other people and I found it immensely liberating . You writers who follow my blog if you don't already meet up with fellow pen smiths, then I would highly recommend that  to do.  The creative possibilities are increased tremendously. Now , on to catching up with octpowrimo. Here's three . I'll be back later to actually write today's. Enjoy...

Day 25

Taste of Satisfaction

To love what is mortal is no easy thing
Autumn turns green leaves golden then brown
From soft and stretchy to brittle and broken
All things change , make their unavoidable departure,
So, how to love that mortal thing,
And in the process keep possession of the I that is me,
Is it in the giving up or the giving in that the I is diminished,
Or is it otherwise -
Is it that the sacrifice makes the I into the strongest
Mountain, majestic , magnificent
And is there any sacrifice at all if all is joy when given
Yes, to love what is mortal is no easy thing

Day 26


only now,  holding everything in being
you are to my I am
my soul held beneath your wings
held against your softness
held as present
held everlasting

Day 27

No Roses

Stepping into the old house into a cold wall of empty
climbing the rickety stairs slowly, each  creak magnified
peeping round the bedroom door, daring to breathe -quietly
looking at her there in the bed as if asleep
smelling the strong scent of roses  filling the room
smiling and thinking no flowers have been here.

Thursday, October 26, 2017

Octpowrimo 22, 23 and 24

26th Oct 2017

The prompt for the 22nd Oct:

Purposeful Passion

You Are

When you are gone I close my eyes, I close my eyes and think of you.
My inmost substance sees you there, encounters your presence.
You are  -  the light that brightens my gloom.

When I think of you I cannot breathe, mysterious shivers cascade through me,
I tremble at your touch, am caught in your embrace, a warm flame rests within me,  I want to stay
You are  -  the Place I want to be.

I taste your words, wondrous sweet, relish every morsel, true delight, honey from the bee,
You are  -  the only sustenance for me.

I hear your gentle voice, wisdom whispering love, words I long to secrete,
Somewhere in my memory to be retrieved at times like this,
You are  -  music to my ears,

The echo of my dreams,  murmurings that comfort me.

Prompt for 23rd Oct:

What is the Message

It was too late 
She was too late
If she'd come sooner maybe she would now 
know what he wanted to tell her
she kisses the cold forehead 
wipes it dry of tears
he waited for hours they said 
but death came for him 
in the dark of night 
he wanted to speak with you they said
no one else would do
what was the message she thought 
did no one know but you

Prompt for 24th Oct:

When Lovers Meet

She just a girl bringing in the sheep
He the new neighbour son of the vet
Her - hair greasy, complexion hidden in sweat and dirt
Him- bumbling along, first time sent to help with the lambing
She, sat waiting patiently a problem  with a mother
He, glanced down and in that moment loved her
She met his gaze and heart racing returned the thought 
He in that unspoken look knew he'd found the one   

Wednesday, October 25, 2017

Octpowrimo 19, 20, 21

25th Oct 2017

I've no idea how to respond to the prompt for the 19th Oct . So I'm going to try another acrostic.
The prompt is:

Fox or Foxy

Feeling a little heated, red .fur getting redder
One little fox wonders how he can use his cunning
X raying the seen with his eyes he finds he has to use

Other means today. He devises
Rougher ways to find his

Food. He gives it all he's got
Obstinate till the last and then,
X marks the spot
Yes, he will get to eat tonight.


Image result for picture of a fox with its kill

More about remembering than desires, here's a poem I wrote a while ago and now post for the prompt for 20th Oct:

Desires and Remembering

Am I Being Clear

Am I being clear?
Things have changed around here,
Life was more peaceful, less stressful,
The three of us, Pottering about, Knew where we were.
Then you came to stay!
Didn’t realise I was so controlling,
Image result for pictures of pizzaBut, three eggs for breakfast (with bacon, saved for the carbonara),
And after a large bowl of porridge and along with four slices of toast!
The budget doesn’t run to it!
Am I being clear?
Then we were told that when we were out,
The two of you , made dinner,
Used all the chicken breasts, and had a whole pizza,
Without a second thought - Too much at one time,
Am I being clear?
And the washing machine – it goes on at night-we save on the ‘ectric ,
And can you not be in the shower for more than twenty minutes?
Am I being clear?

The prompt for the 21st Oct is Nothing Remains the Same.  And I've got a little song this time:

Enjoying the Dance                                    

Embracing, Gliding likes swans on a lake,
We took to the floor, a couple to make.
Quick stepping through galaxies, up with the stars,
Fox trotting on Saturn, Jupiter and Mars.

And they said we could never be
Happy together, you and me.
But we’re still here, proving them wrong,
Enjoying the dance and singing our song,
Enjoying the dance and singing our song.

At times we twirled and danced too fast,
 Feet hardly touching the floor, such a blast.
Our feet would be bleeding our body’s sore,
But we carried on across the dance floor.
Image result for Pictures of couples dancing

And they said we could never be
Happy together, you and me.
But we’re still here proving them wrong,
Enjoying the dance and singing our song,
Enjoying the dance and singing our song.

Our dance has slowed but we still glide,
Gently moving, side by side,
Our adventure will come to an end one day,
But we’ll move on, we know the way.

Monday, October 23, 2017

Octpowrimo 18

23rd Oct 2017

Feeling cold today makes me so grateful
to have warm clothes
and a house to live in.
But it also brings to mind those who have
no home,
those on the streets of our towns and cities
who are
homeless and possibly sleeping
out in this inclement weather.

The prompt for Octpowrimo for 18th Oct  is 

Everyone Went on Eating.

So I think I'll leave it with the above because isn't it true that we all carry on eating
 while our bothers and sisters are cold or lonely or hungry. .

Octpowrino 15, 16 and 17

22nd Oct 2017

I am up to the 15th October and the prompt is :

Fighting The Urge to Vomit

How come the fragrance of soap,
before, so welcome after the more human bodily,
undesirable stench of patients on the surgical ward
now causes nausea
way down in the pit of my empty stomach
rising up to try and escape over the beds
I try to make, at least completing one before
going to the bathroom to be sick
this is how I knew

I cook dinner with peg on my nose
onions are the worst, seeming to penetrate
every obstacle to keep them at bay
unstoppable churning brings me again
to my knees
I decide salad in future, but still
every delicate smell adds to the urge
who is smoking in the road outside
and will they please

Well that was a reflection of being in early pregnancy. In one of  those times I couldn't eat anything but fruit and uncooked veg and lost lots of weight whilst pregnant, being a stone and a lighter at the end than at the beginning.

And on to the prompt for the 16th Oct:

Losing Your Fears and Tears

My God gives me rainbows
a flood of thankful wells up
from the deep,
a river that bursts its banks
and overflows with joy.
At the beginning
a rainbow
At the end
A rainbow
There you are

And the 17th:

And The Dragon Chose

In the caves way up in the mountain
lived the Thunder of dragons called Grafeond .
They ruled the land from East to West
And were feared by all creatures around.

Fierce they looked, their wings outstretched
they commanded a fearsome sight
and when their fiery breath they breathed
others quickly took to flight.

One little whelp from this Thunder,
thinking his flying he'd practice
stepped off the mountain, spread his wings
but  landed in an terrible mess

His dear mama came to his rescue
you're not quite ready said she
and she gathered him in her wings
And took him home for his tea.

Oh well, that was that then. A bit out of my comfort zone with that one. But I gave it a try.

Friday, October 20, 2017

Octpowrimo, 13th and 14th

19th Oct 2017

The prompt for the 13th Oct :

Art In The Wayward Mind 

This wayward mind wanders
off course
an interminable inventor of wild
remodeling, reshaping a woeful
tortured until it turns again to
and finds the narrow

And for the 14th Oct:

Movement And Words

He gently rubs  the damp cloth over 
his trainers 
revealing a white area on the 
old canvas
one by one he slowly unravels the two
 blue laces.
Dreamily he watches a fly walk nearby on 
 grey tiles
And thinks, you have no idea how lucky 
you are 
Out on the downs he runs, runs, slowly
at first
Then, words fight inside his head, explode 
back , forth
He speeds up , they get louder, his breath
gives out 
He stops,
Falls to the floor,
Sobs softly

Image result for images of blue laces


Wednesday, October 18, 2017

Day 12 Octpowrimo Imagination Stands In The Road

12th Oct 2017

Today I've take the prompt for the 12th Oct . See what you think. Looking out at the rain and the dull grey , It seems a good idea to imagine ....

Imagination Stands In The Road

She looks down the road
It curves,
disappears into dark trees
where maybe goblins live
and frolic with fairy friends. 
Or is there a secret, stone 
in the middle of the wood 
where lost leprechauns 
can find their way home.
She might follow that way.

She looks up the road
It leads 
on as far as the eye can see
long and straight
until it fades into the 
tall mountains
where maybe there are bears,
waterfalls and a winding trail
 that takes you  to the top 
 an adventure

Tuesday, October 17, 2017

Move Your Body Move Your Words

18th Oct 2017

Reading at the prompt for day 11 left me cold. I thought, right, where can I go with this? I was completely stumped and my little grey cells were snoozing away and not in the least bit interested in the problem.
But I thought I must write something as some words are better than no words. Aren't they?

Move Your Body Move your Words

I nearly missed the train this evening.

With a sea of commuters I ran for the 6.0 o'clock
A seat tonight was out of the question, that fact was
Bodies hustled, toes trod on, shoved, not admitting to  
Damp smell from clothes polluting the air, all got wet in the
The seated make no eye contact, arriving early was their
They ignore the pregnant, the old, the infirm, eyes closed in the
Some are on  phones, others read books and in their seats they

I am not young and with my poorly hip could do with a
So when a lot get off at the next stop I feel I'm now well
And take a chair in first class  in  a comfy chair like a
Let's see how long I can keep my place, it's like a little
No one comes to remove me -  I make it home, that's


Octpowrimo days 8, 9, 10,

17th Oct 2017

I can see that I might actually be able to catch up now. Maybe by the time 25th Oct comes I might be on the right day.
But, for now I'm on the 8th Oct and the prompt is:

What do You Know and How do You Know it

Is everything that  I can see, known by me 
and what of that which our eyes can't view 
yet people tell us are there and they're true
and we can see a picture of them in a book
but, for whatever reason we can't actually look
at the real thing.

Is all that is in my head, all that I have studied
and learnt since I was small and just little seed 
from all the world around real knowledge indeed 
that "how to" gleaned from father and mother too 
and then, even  years later  more gained from you
my true computer fling  

Prompt for 9th Oct :

Tapping into Your Creative Mind

It's what I would like to do if I had one, a creative mind, I mean 
it would make it so much easier to get down to the writing
something would always be there, in the depths, to be retrieved 
lurking in the recesses  , behind all the goings on of the day
I could just tap, tap, dig, dig  a little bit and be sure
 to come up with an idea or two that I could work with.
But, alas, it's not to be , for I only have the mind I have
I'm afraid that'll have to do for me.

Prompt for 10th Oct:

Power and Control

In  letting go lies the power
giving control of every hour
of our life

Monday, October 16, 2017

Octpowrimo Days 4, 5, 6 and 7

16th Oct 2017

The Prompt for 4th Oct ( will I ever catch up?) is:

"Between the Clouds and the Water." Trying an acrostic with that then...

Eleven on
That day people gathered,
Eagerly for the sign.

Their way through

Out for anything
Unusual. What would she
Do? What had
She in mind?

Now  they were

Then they
Heard a sound as of angels
Everyone saw the clouds part and

With their eyes wide and all at once dry,
At least one hundred
Thousand witnesses
Experienced the miracle happening in
Reality before them, of the dancing of the sun

Hope you liked that little story. If you want to know what actually happened look up Fatima, the miracle of the sun.

The prompt for the 5th Oct:

"Finally I Understand"

I would like to be able to say that I am at an age,
a time in my life when I can say
finally, I understand.

But , no matter how many seconds I spend
pondering the ups and downs
I'm no nearer to this end

There are, I've just worked out, eighty six thousand,
four hundred seconds in each
twenty four hour day

So, it's possible that, with a lot more thinking and study
I will finally understand
what do you say?

Prompt for Oct 6:

While I Was Pacing The Floor

In the early hours, dark shadows told stories
that are only understood in the night
as my eyes tried to construct some meaning.

Her cries welled up inside me, a waterfall of loving
I took her in arms that ached to calm,
that wanted to make her cease screaming

What is it little one , what's the matter, what's wrong
come let me give you a cuddle
I'll  whisper in your ear a gentle song

So, on those nights, while I was pacing the floor
a connection was made between us
a bond that will last for ever more.

 Prompt for 7th Oct

Then I Went too Far

Reds, yellows, oranges, crunched underfoot
hot breath met the chill autumn air, misting glasses.
And on she walked, mindless among trees and bracken,
trudging through brambles, off the main track .
Would he even notice ? How had they come to this ?
Standing in a clearing, too many ways to choose
which way to go, where was she anyway?
She had gone too far
Too far to retrace her steps
Any path would do

Sunday, October 15, 2017

Octpowrimo Days 1, 2, 3

15th Oct 2017

So, yes, it's been ages since I posted anything on the blog . To be honest it's been a fraught few weeks with family needing my attention .
I had intended to join the OCTPOWRIMO challenge of a poem  a day for the month of October but here we are on the 15th of the month and i haven't even made a start.
So, what to do?
Shall I just pick it up from here and write to  today's prompt?
Shall I go to the prompts from the very beginning and try to catch up?
Shall I not bother and go do something else?

Trying to catch up seems like a mammoth task, but ....
So the prompt for the 1st Oct:

How did I get here...

Look at her tiny, chubby fingers
holding her grandad's thumb.
Look at her bright blue eyes
searching the face of her mum.

Look at her whispy,  fair curls
like many of our grandbabies had.
I wonder, how did I get here
great grandmother-proud and glad

And the prompt for 2nd Oct:

We Write Because We Must...

How many times I wished we didn't have to.
She never had a problem , writing
came easy to her.
I would stare at my white, clean page,
maybe put a heading at the top,
copied from the board,
always with mistakes, but she would have
half a page written before I looked up.
I would steal her rubber and hide it under
my bag,
I would move my pencil case around
on my desk
putting it in her way
She would get cross and push it back
She was concentrating
I would doodle in the corner of the page
She would turn over
and start a new one...
and then the teacher would notice me
and tell me to get on.
So I tried and sometimes the page
was half filled with words by the end
of the lesson.

And the prompt for 3rd Oct:

Taste Of Metal...

It was always one of the first signs
that metallic taste in the mouth.
All nine times, it brought the joyous
expectation  of new life.

Thursday, September 21, 2017


20th Sept 2017

The cue for the six sentence story this week is "plate" . So, here, I had a go...


The leaves -  brown, golden, red - pirouette around  tree trunks in the park - remains of warmer days.
 Those long , sunny days when children chased each other round these same trees, while parents sat chatting on picnic blankets in the still shade of colourful parasols,  a feast of tempting summer foods laid out before them.
I shiver in the chill earthy breeze and remember a plate of cold meats, mixed green and purple leaves, sweet, red tomatoes, spring onions and  home made mayonnaise and fresh bread and butter and think that today I would prefer hot thick soup with a crispy roll.
It wasn't an unusual scene, nor an exceptional day - we'd had many such outings - except that it was the last time we would ever see Charlie.
I hold my coat around me, walk slowly around the trees and notice the green to pale brown colour of the acorns that I crunch underfoot with each step.
I don't often come through the park these days, but am on my way to see his mum and have been thinking a lot about that picnic, how happy all the children were, how Arthur and Charlie, both twelve during that week, spent the afternoon climbing trees and how, when it was time to go home they begged to stay  for just another half an hour and come home on their own.

Saturday, September 16, 2017

Camper days

16th Sept.2017

It seems such a long time now since our trip to France and Spain with our camper. The memories, though , are still fresh in my mind and like new bread the aroma of them wafts over me sometimes. So today I searched out a photo of those warmer days. 
I had to stop to take this picture when we were driving  up through the mountains on the coast of France before crossing the border into Spain. My husband is standing next  to the sheer drop of hundreds of feet that are on his right. Notice her isn't leaning on the red railing , or looking down at the view - a bit scared of heights. In front of him there are more mountains to climb. This was an exquisitely beautiful part of our journey. But again the photo doesn't do it justice at all.

Not sure what bridge I am on in this picture but I think it's a good example of the many lovely places we stopped at. Not that we took as many pictures as we might have done, because everywhere was just amazing.

And this is another take on the same river . Ahh, I remember now, it was a little town we passed through and stopped for a while because it was "pretty" . My husband peered into this river for ages watching the fish . He grew more determined as time went on that he would buy a fishing rod to take on our adventures. I'm happy with that as long as we can eat the catch.
He has now bought a rod and is waiting to use it.

I hope you like the pictures.

Friday, September 15, 2017

Border / Cast

14th Sept 2017 

Joining this weeks six story sentence challenge with  the cue cast. As I didn't post anything for the cue "border" a few weeks ago, I thought I could amalgamate the two .

Border ....

While Adnan's  hands grew painful and his throat dry with the fumes from the lorries ahead making it more and more difficult for him to breathe, he dreamed of a new life that was awaiting him when he crossed the border and pondered  what it might be like and decided that all of this would be worthwhile in the end.. 
It had been easy to stow away on the underside of the huge artic, finding a place where he could almost sit , although perched precariously, needing both hands to hang on. 
The lorry slowed now as they neared the border, and he prayed like mad, his heart thumping loudly, water running from his face and dripping onto the road as, looking through the gaps he could just spot other lorries being stopped and checked. 
Was this going to be the end of the road, his new life cut short before it had begun, all the suffering of the last four weeks for nothing , just to be sent back to Syria?
He let out a soft , slow breath when the artic was waved through and with no inspection the journey began again.  
Two hours later in a dark motorway car park the lorry pulled to  a stop and as all seemed quiet Adnan  uncurled his cold, aching bones,  lowered himself to the ground and on hands and knees,  crawled out and cast a furtive glance around him wondering which way he should go now. 

Wednesday, August 30, 2017


31st Aug 2017

In response to the cue from "Six Sentences" :


Two grandsons, faces set with pensive frowns,slowly, deliberately,  lower two baskets into the  hole in the ground as the rest of us bend over and peer in , some giving instructions - "mum slept on the right," and "they'll enjoy that  lovely view down the hill ".
I can't believe that it's a year ago today since that little scene took place on the day we buried my mum and dad's ashes side by side,  together forever.
It seems that time only increases the emptiness that cannot be filled, as on so many occasions I long to hear their voices or listen to their stories -  stories of our history which I know I should have paid more attention to.
They were the ones that kept me connected, always happy to pass on news of how things were with the rest of the family.
 All too soon the chances are taken from us and there is a gaping chasm that cannot be filled or covered over.
Maybe with time it will lose it's importance and certainly we become the older generation who pass on wisdom to the one below.
Although  I really don't feel up to the task of being the "elder", I know that from me the younger ones will learn about their roots and the people that make them up, so the cycle will continue.

Thursday, August 3, 2017


3rd August 2017

Yesterday our family welcomed a new baby. A  new grandaughter for me - Maria. Although we now have twenty four grandchildren, the miracle of new life doesn't diminish. If anything it becomes more special, more precious  Congrats to the little family .

Changing the subject, I'm posting a six sentence attempt just to try and get back in the swing of things. The cue word  is pickle. I did think I'd write something about our "new little pickle", but changed my mind.
Anyway here goes:

It had seemed a good idea at the time to get ponchos for, you know, that unlikely scenario when the weather on the continent might not be so favourable.
 It came down, in the end, to a choice between a "pac a mac with hood" or a "full covering poncho"and as we tried them on in Go Outdoors it made perfect sense to have something that kept dry, not just you , but anything you might be carrying.  
So, having bought said ponchos we secreted them at the back of a cupboard in the camper, behind other items that weren't likely to be needed often, such as my "going out|" jewellery box and my red 
high heel shoes.
Anyway, to cut a long story short and for the sake of the six, from the minute we hit French soil we were soggy, with rain set to be our constant bugbear for the next five days.
No worries, we said , we'll keep dry under our new ponchos and carry on enjoying our pilgrimage.
That was all very well until I got in a right pickle every time I wanted to get to my bag or to use my arms in a normal way, at which point I thought , those pac a macs would have done a darn site better job .

Wednesday, August 2, 2017


2nd August 2017.

One of the many beautiful views that we saw on our travels. We only captured a minute selection and of course never had the camera ready or couldn't stop for some of the more amazing , jaw dropping ones. What a wonderful world we live in . This one was taken as we were creeping up the side of a cliff that was just over a car width wide with clear drops to the bottom.
Of course , as always , the photo doesn't do the place justice. You can't capture the whole and a lot of the atmosphere is lost . 

Tuesday, August 1, 2017

So Much

1st August 2017

Well, it's been a long time since  you heard from me dear readers and I apologise for that.

We ( my husband and I) have been away for a month in our camper. More on that later.

Today I'm going to join in with Josie Two Shoes' TTOT - ten things of thankfulness - blog.

So, where to start?

So Much

1. I love our camper and am thankful that we got some time away in France and Spain. I even had a chance to try out the two languages, although more study is definitely needed.
2. We saw some really beautiful places - mountains, rivers, waterfalls, beaches, pretty towns and villages, cathedrals and churches.
3. We met some wonderful people, and some so generous they inspire you to be better.
4. The weather, apart from the first week, was brilliant. I did have to buy a hat to protect my lips.
5. We swam in the sea, in lakes, in rivers and in a swimming pool.
6. We made a pilgrimage and prayed in the most interesting and sacred places, feeling close to the real meaning of everything.
7. We ate lovely bread and cheese and red  wine was cheap enough to enjoy more than a few times.
8 We kept within budget, only using a camp site two nights during the whole four weeks. The aires are totally adequate when you've got a camper. We also did quite a bit of wild camping, one time right next to a seven mile stretch of beach.
9. The Pyrenees were amazing . Need to repeat: the Pyrenees were absolutely amazing and will give a background to my every waking moment as long as my memory holds out.
10. Although, we loved our adventure and had to come home early for health a appointment, It was the most delicious feeling falling into my own bed. Yes, good to be home too. And see some of the children. Hopefully see all of them throughout the summer.

I will write more about the expedition later.

Friday, June 23, 2017

Thursday, June 22, 2017

The Well

22nd June 2017.

Welcome to the six sentence challenge for this week. The word is "well".

The Well

Nicoshi peered over the small brick wall and tried to see to the bottom of the well.
There was no bucket attached to the rope, curled up neatly as it was, with a meter or so  hanging  loose, which made him wonder if, somehow , the said bucket had fallen and was now buried under water way down at the bottom.
He leaned in, straining  both body and eyes, but all he could see was the wall that stretched  far below,

becoming a pool of  deep blackness.  Image result for pictures of wells

Desperate now to find  water, he took hold of the rope and, guiding himself by wedging his feet against the wall,  descended, slowly, resurfacing some minutes later with a perfectly good, dry,  wooden bucket tied to his belt.
While he slumped  onto  the parched earth, against the wall , trying to put himself in as much shade as possible, he looked around the arid landscape to find a tree or something to give a bit of relief,  but there was no escaping the hot afternoon sun.
This was the third day he'd been on the run, hiding and without any form of sustenance and now he puts his hand in his pocket and pulls out a photo of a young woman with a little girl and himself, which he strokes with fingers wet with tears .

Friday, June 16, 2017



The mother brushes her daughter’s hair,
 teases the tangles
knots turn to soft,  smooth locks, shining  golden.
Each single hair so fragile, could easily be pulled 
from its follicle,
effortlessly snapped.
Slowly, deliberately, she divides the whole in three 
equal parts
brush on autopilot with every stroke.
She takes the separate tresses 
 plaits them together
one over the other  - delicately - and
she remembers
she remembers the spray of the sea on her face, 
the yacht, the rope,
her father,
his strong hands - power of nature contained there-
sails swinging this way then that in the sway-
working together against the elements,
his patience unending - no let up till the thick rope is secured
 firmly to the quay.
He was her life pulse, threads to her hope - 
merciful, kind- her comfort, 
her link to the future which now has a sad space
 where he is no more.
She weaves the plait into a coil and when finished
lays her hands on her daughter’s 
and sighs . 

Image result for free picture of mother plaiting hair