Beech leaves are edible, citrusy. Mature leaves are toughened tongue slicers but the downy baby leaves are as weightless and silky as an acid green parachute. AdvertisementsRead More Feuille for Free
Several water authorities announced drought conditions and imposed hosepipe bans. Like a spell, this has presaged in daily downpours of monsoon intensity. Time for “Anna Rock Punch”. Ukrainian Anna wore her immaculately coiffered grey waves pinned up. She embroidered her own exquisite folk blouses, smiled all the time and made interesting things to eat. She […]Read More Something to drink whilst you’re ringing out your bobble hat.
Back from France and over six months pregnant, I feel now is the time to give up our secret identities. I am Lydia (months off 40) Married to Garry (weeks off 44) Parents of Connie (days off 12) Patience (8) Salvador (6) Judah (4) And blimp unborn. We welcome name suggestions. The more outlandish the […]Read More Drop This Charade!
Everyday the snow looked different. First, the sugary glitter of crushed diamonds, then shards of glass. Lastly, the papery surface of flakey skin. Like a film exposed for hours, it’s ribboned lines revealed what happened in my absence. Lone walkers and dog walkers. The crazy quilting of little birds, a double machine stitch in the […]Read More Never Mind Smilla’s Feelings
Large birds of prey are a common sight, it’s most often buzzards. The hedges are their lavishly stocked larders. From at least 100 yards away you can hear the squeaks and whistles of the bird metropolis. As I approach, a patch falls silent, I picture the little side turned faces, bright eyes watching me, then, as […]Read More Sparrow Snacks
C wasn’t pleased with this.Read More One Girl’s Traff
Our usual brand of brioche is “Harry’s”, last week we bought “Pasquier” instead. Most found it an ordeal to swallow even a mouthful, the only one not revolted by the taste was the four year old, J. Everyday I’d cajole him to eat as much of our brioche mountain as he could get down. I’ve […]Read More The Alcoholic Preschooler
Thanks to ruthless packing, the only toys that made it across the Channel were Sandy, the sand filled doll and a handful of cars. After a whinefilled day or two, the tots have proved contentedly resourceful, especially when making dolls and jigsaws from G’s castoffs. Inspired by Eve Arnold I show you the tiny hands responsible.Read More Small Handmade
Everywhere we go, huge walls of logs are trustingly stacked up to dry, not simply for this winter, but for two more to come. Everywhere. G and I never buy wood in England but through resourcefulness and opportunism get fuel for free. I say “we” get wood but G finds the tree, chops it […]Read More Wood, Wood Everywhere But Not A Stick To Burn.
Before we left, various chums were saying goodbye and a young woman came up to wish me a nice time and say they’d miss us. She’s in her early teens, cheerful, slim, very fashionable. We are part of the same community, but several weeks may pass between hello’s. I felt proud that she’d noticed I […]Read More More Than You Think (Three Stories)