Some white flowers from my street. There are some very keen gardeners in my village. A cSave
Remember Mental Health Moments? I’m bringing the link up back. It sort of died as my son was born and I was too busy to even blog, let alone blog, run a link up (even a monthly one) and work and have a tiny baby in the house. Things calmed down somewhat quickly, I settled… [Read More]
From a few years ago, and a few cameras ago. I took a weekend trip Dublin with my ex for his birthday. It was so long ago I was able to travel on my provisional driving licence and not need a passport. It was March and it rained a lot but it was a lovely… [Read More]
My son in various positions of repose. I remember it well…if only he would sleep again… More work on redbubble.
This post is long overdue and doesn’t necessarily have a happy ending. One day when I was walking around the village (I have a usual loop I do) in the sunshine, I walked passed the church and towards the main, passing the chapel on the way. I looked in and saw a black and white… [Read More]
A shot of some perfect pegs on a line from someone washing line in Aberystwyth. I kinda liked it. The colours of the pegs are so bright. Check it out on redbubble.
The sky was that perfect blue today and even though it’s spring the trees still seem to be very bare. I think everything is a bit confused after the weird winter we had. Wordless Wednesday
I have a confession to make; once I didn’t shower or bathe for five years. Not once. Now, this isn’t something I talk about often, I mean think about it who really wants to admit that they managed to go without showering for that long. Hell, I know people who won’t admit they went without… [Read More]
I’ve been watching an argument (debate does not cover it) in a writing facebook group I’m a member of about why poets call themselves writers. At first, I found this really insulting. While I don’t think the original poster meant to insult any poets in the group, he didn’t do himself any favours by digging… [Read More]
I remember a good summer bright with promise, crushes and sex, my memory nebulous a floating soundtrack to the sun. If only I could remember more. Not every winter was barren, not every summer bright, it’s on the edge of something wonderful an awakening of senses delightful and distressing all at once. I dig through… [Read More]