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after Anthony Wilson's To Autumn I love walking I hate leaving the house I love wearing wellies I hate rain in my socks I love the sound of rain hitting the windows I hate rain down the back of my neck I love the thought of coming home to a warm house I hate… Continue reading O Autumn!
With Christmas approaching (sorry, can't deny it any longer), I thought that now would be a good time to mention these beautiful pamphlets from Candlestick Press which would definitely make a wonderful present for many people I know, even though their tag line suggests modestly that you might give them "instead of a card." (which is… Continue reading Candlestick Press Pamphlets
If we were having coffee, I'd tell you that I rarely meet anyone for coffee or lunch or dinner or any kind of beverage or refreshment or meal. I'd say "Instead of meeting somewhere for coffee, would you like to come round to my house and I will make you a delicious mixture of hot… Continue reading I rarely meet anyone for coffee
This week I've been aware of more sadness, worry, fear and dread. I've mostly been aware of this when I've been on the internet so I've tried not to be on the internet too much. Again, Summer Pierre has caught my mood well. I've been thinking about what to blog about and wondering if I should be… Continue reading Still here
We have mushrooms or toadstools growing in our garden. When our daughter was little, she told us these were fairies' houses and they needed water to make them grow so that the fairies would have more room. Recently I found a letter she'd put into a box and left next to the mushrooms: Dear Fairies I have… Continue reading Fairies in the garden
I've never thought of myself as a stubborn type but there must be something mulish about me as I persist in trying to reach the end of National Blog Posting Month. I am running out of blogging ideas and I am thinking about blogging when I should be doing other stuff. It's not meant to be like… Continue reading Beyond the halfway mark : #NaBloPoMo Day 17
There she is, behind her radio, her jokey monkey, her burnout out candle, her re-purposed jam jars, her florid handsoap, her washing up liquid, her scraggy pan cleaner, abandoned paintbrushes, her clutter of children's claywork. There she is behind a basket of old receipts, boxes of matches, hair clips, unread articles, badges, key rings, fridge magnets, gravy-stained recipe books,… Continue reading What do the people opposite think of me?
The most recent supermoon has woken me up for two nights running. Technically, it was the morning, the small hours, at around 1am both times. On Sunday morning it felt like a surprise to be woken up. I hadn't gone to bed thinking about the moon or looking for it but the moon made sure… Continue reading Supermoon Notebook
Josephine Corcoran 