The neighbours from hell
The stocky man outside the front door looked a bit embarrassed. I assumed that he was going to offer to prune my trees or tarmac the drive. With a sweep of his hand he explained that he was a neighbour. He didn’t give his name. As The Contessa and Inca bawled at him from the safety of the sitting room window he let rip. He jabbed a finger in the direction of the roaring dogs behind the steamy window. “Those are the reason why I have come round.” He observed me closely and enunciated clearly. “Every time I go into my...
read moreTastes from across the water
Donagh laid the long pack of breakfast sausages (16 sausages per pound weight) on the kitchen worktop. “What have you got there?” Danny was curious. “Back in the forties when our Mam was young and training in Dublin, she was instructed to bring a pack of Hafner’s sausages home to Oylegate each weekend. It was imperative that she carried out the mission. The company eventually vanished but a few years ago someone found the recipe and they started production again. I’ve bought a pack of Denny’s too. The famous...
read moreFlying visit from Donagh
Danny’s favourite youngest brother is over from Ireland. Donagh is everything that a special brother should be. He reminisces with D and helps me with projects. “Do you remember how Lassie would look after the day old chicks?” “I was away at school by then.” Danny was tenderly turning the steaks. “Well, she’d lie on the ground and herd the chicks back to their mothers, very carefully with her paws. I’d watch her for hours. She’d mother any baby thing. Took over Bing’s pups when she...
read moreThe love gallery
Danny and I are lucky. We are happy. And content with each other, most of the time. We lead pretty independent lives but always eat breakfast and supper together and share the king sized bed with its massive regal headboard, inherited from my aunt. We also share the same star sign, Virgo. Danny was born at the neater end of the month – dusting wise. There is a neatness inside my head. If this is arrested, I am at sea. We had a turbulent first year. Probably moved in together too soon. We were also living near Newmarket and working in...
read moreThe walk from Swan Meadow
I only noticed the signpost to Swan Meadow a few weeks ago. It’s a turning just at the beginning of Saffron Walden’s High Street. Usually Jalopy is applying her brakes and getting ready to chance her arm on the very narrow stretch of road ahead. Most cars pass each other, breathing in tight with just a hair’s breadth between them. Some hover nervously until the road is totally clear and they can climb the hill without the possibility of a scrape. We were waiting at the end of a long line of cars. The name caught my eye....
read moreDecorating for Einat
Sometimes I feel a bit sad when I finish a job. Especially if it’s an empty house that I am doing up for sale or let. It seems so final. I load up Jalopy, kick off my boots and vacuum the house. I have a good long look at every room and lock the front door for the very last time. Over the weeks I’ve often built up a close relationship with the house. Got to know it, discovered its potential and disguised its drawbacks. Wondered about the people that have lived there over the years and sometimes even imagined living there...
read moreThird Annual Brigid in Cyberspace Poetry Reading
Pottering on Monnroot’s blog, I spotted an invitation to Third Annual Brigid in Cyberspace Poetry Reading. This, amogst other festivities, celebrates Brigid, the Celtic goddess of poetry, healing and craft and Groundhog Day. The invitation was originally sent by Deborah Oak. I love poetry. And find half remembered lines a comfort and inspiration. Whether it is “The boy stood on the burning deck” or something as sensuous and delightful as the lines below. Poetry can be carried easily in your head and unwrapped carefully when...
read morePugs
Nearly 25 years ago my sister Sara decided to get a pug. She’d had a pug as a child and Tweedle was the perfect dog. Even though the mutt looked rather plain in a bonnet she was happy to be dressed in dolls clothes and be pushed around in a pram. Looking back, Tweedle was an Einstein amongst pugs. Generally they are not the brightest stars in the intellectual firmament. Sara didn’t want a puppy so we visited various breeders to see what they had available. Nothing fitted the bill. Then she heard about a year old pug in...
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