I miss your sunny face.
Your flowers and your grace,
Your gentle showers
your sunny hours
as life returns
and the year turns.
Life’s ups and downs,
Leaves touch trees crowns.
Pale helibores decline
but tulips grow again.
Now comes the rush
of flowers full blush.
birds sing sublime.
For which I yearn
I had got to the front door and was trying to unlock it when he caught me. I squirmed out of his grip and opened the door, feeling myself falling down the front step. My arm was yanked back in its socket as he gripped my wrist but I slammed the door on him. I felt his nails scratch me as he clawed at my trailing hand…
Out, I was out, back in the cold dark street. Into the car, fumbling at the lock. He was not following? Something to do with the street lights?
I revved the engine and put it in gear. Where to go so late? All my friends would have gone to bed. My sister? She lived miles away. Far enough away to be safe from him.
I drove out of town, into the dark of the countryside. The street lights dwindled and I drove along, marvelling at my night vision. Normally I struggled to see but tonight? There must be a full moon.
My hand itched where he had scratched me…..
I could not seem to concentrate and sweat dropped into my eyes. The heater was on full blast so I turned it down.
Now I was close to my sisters home. I drove into her street. The lights were out but I have a spare key.
I looked in the mirror to tidy myself up. Golden eyes glowed back at me… My eyes…. And I was suddenly very very hungry……
It was a fairly bright morning once you dodged the rain showers so we decided to visit wedgewood artisan market (2nd Sunday of each month). It’s at the Wedgewood factory, near Barlaston,, Staffordshire. We had a fine potters full breakfast in the dining room there (with beans and oatcake). Our friend from Yorkshire was visiting so it was good to show him one of the local attractions. Once we had eaten we went round the outdoor and indoor stalls. Charis Jones with her Sculpted Steel was there, together with Pat Myatt and her potteries art work. Other stalls included whisky fudge, crafted wool blankets, various cheeses and cakes, you could even buy your own fairy kit to make a fairy like the ones at Trentham Gardens. My partner bought me a kit and I bought him a wood turned pen. We also went inside the wedgewood visitor centre and I spent a happy hour trying to create a cat design plate. The pens and pencils they had were not very good but hopefully the image on the plate (a lithograph) will be OK.
I took a couple of progress photos but not one if the finished design. It might take 6 weeks for it to be delivered though…
I haven’t done anything since finishing Jupiter Blue, except for painting scenery.
I have ups and downs with art. As my mom used to say, and as I said to someone recently “don’t force it phoebe” in other words don’t overdo things….
I will try and get organised again. I have things to finish and I think I’ve said I will do stuff. But with this cold I’m a bit mixed up. I need to rest, but I’ve always got bored easily.
I’ve made one decision though. I want to start trumpet lessons again….
That’s something I don’t like about getting older, a fear of falling.
I sat on a chair a couple of years ago and because it had a knot in the wood it broke… and I landed on the floor with a broken rib.
Other times I have really fallen, tripped up over the edge of a step, hitting my head.. Luckily that time I didn’t do any serious damage…
I’ve been scared at the top of a steep hill and had to crawl along the top, as everyone just walked past me! So embarrassing .. And yet as a child I would climb up and hang down from the top of the swings in the playground by my knees….
Life is strange, you do go from fitness to infirmity without realising sometimes. I just keep trying to get fitter now…. Trying not to fall….
This is Gracie my little cat friend / fiend. She does insist on coming to greet me by stratching up and clawing my lower legs and knees. Seamus her brother jumps up and kneads my knees with his claws out. Consequently I’m covered in tiny puncture wounds.
Cats are characters, just like people. They have their own foibles and ways of doing things. No matter how I try and discourage her by disentangling her claws she keeps coming back and doing it again.
Anyway here is Gracie , looking sweet. With machinations in mind.
It’s interesting to think what is the optimum time to write….?
I find that I’m usually busy in the day, but sometimes have a bit of time like now, to write. But the normal time I write is in the evening. Usually when the TV is on and I’m not particularly engaged in the programme. Sometimes I find myself listening to the television with one ear and my husband with the other whilst typing here. My brain can be quite scrambled when I’m doing that.
At the moment I’m listening to a TV programme called countdown when contestants choose a series of vowels and consonants and try and make a word up to 9 letters long. The longest word wins the round. A bit like scrabble really. The other game they play is a mixture of 6 small and large numbers and they must use arithmatic to get to a random number that the computer generates. Each game is only 30 seconds long…….
So getting back to when I write, sometimes I’m racing to publish something before midnight. It’s become a bit of a challenge to myself. I don’t really know why I do it, it may be because I’m quite competitive and I like to try and keep my writing limited to the same day. I guess I treat it as a bit of a deadline.
My other habit is writing late at night or early in the morning when I can’t sleep……as long as its not too boring.