The dangers of damask
When my grandmother died we moved into her creepy house. It was a large place with little turrets and an extensive garden. On the first night I drew the curtains in my bedroom and they disintegrated in my hands. ˜Never mind,’ said my mum with uncharacteristic brightness, ˜they are such good quality that the lining will keep out the light.’ She was right. When I switched out the light the room was plunged into the deepest darkest velvety black. I was seventeen at the time. The room was fit for a fairytale princess, a hundred years...
read moreCarnage
I woke this morning to a dead fly in my mouth. I had opened an eye, clocked a fresh gently steaming cup of tea and swigged. The hot tea had killed the fly but it hadn’t lost its crunchiness. I leapt from the bed in horror but where was I going to spit this noxious intruder? Danny was sympathetic when I bustled out of the bathroom with clean teeth and virtually anesthetised palette (someone once told me that toothpaste is great for cleaning the manky areas of a fridge). He volunteered a fresh cup of tea complete with a handy fly screen...
read moreHappy New Year
I much prefer New Year to Christmas. It’s a heady time. I’m always happy to send the Old Year to bed at 23.59. It is 365 days old after all, and getting a bit grumpy and scuffed around the edges. At midnight, I fling open the window to hear the bells and the New Year leaps over the sill. Young, supple and wrapped in a cloak woven from so many dreams. Happy New Year...
read moreCompanion chariot
It’s that dreaded time of year when I have to accompany my faded friend to the Volvo garage in Bury St Edmunds. It’s like attending the Oscars and realising, too late, that you’re wearing muddy Wellingtons. Gleaming cars purr smugly past us as we make a five point kangaroo turn into the service bay. Jalopy is gutsy and doesn’t appear to notice the smirks. Once she’s up on the ramp, I feel much more relaxed. She has a gruelling three hours ahead. I, on the other hand, am snaking my way to Reception. I generally...
read moreTravelling light
Many years ago, whilst on honeymoon in Bali, my ex husband and I met a runaway. I often think of him. He was in his forties. His plan was to rent a boat, sail to the cluster of uninhabited islands off the coast of Bali and just disappear. We treated him to supper and now I wished I’d asked him more questions. Why was he running away? This was no Ray Mears. He could have been the man next door. The sort of man that you expect to routinely pick up a pint of milk on his way home. Neatly dressed in a parka and lace up shoes, he was clean...
read moreGravel Drive
Our cottage is set back about fifty feet from the road. Before Danny arrived, grass stretched from the house to the gate. I planted daffodils and in the spring these were preceded by pools of bright blue wild crocus. It was, as a friend described, an idyllic scene. Straight out of Thomas Hardy. The grass was fine for a weekend cottage but when we moved here permanently, the daily toll of tyre tracks scored deep welts in the grass. In the winter, the muddy path to the door was slippery and hazardous. I ignored this but D wanted a solution....
read moreMatthew Rice’s A Year in the Country Calendar
Matthew Rice’s charming paper-covered boxes have delighted me for years. His style, although totally individual, has the comfortable vibe of an Edward Ardizzone’s illustration and the wit of Quentin Blake’s work. When I look at his paintings my heart skips. He just gets it right. I discovered a Matthew Rice calendar a few years ago and fell in love. One year spent with this calendar and even Danny was hooked. This is a must have. So many people that we know just couldn’t do without this fix. My sister and I set out to...
read moreIt only takes five minutes
Whoever first said this horrid little phrase must have impressed Danny as he uses it regularly. Particularly when we’re allocating the mundane jobs at home. Most of mine are stamped ‘five minutes’. I used to try and do the tasks in five minutes, now I just laugh. He is also fond of the phrase, “Yes. But it’ll take hours”. I’ve noticed recently that most of his jobs are snuggled in this category. I began to think of jobs that might only take five minutes and prepared a handy list: Answering an...
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