Notes from an almost-empty-nester
5am.
I wake up to the clang of a plate falling and being hurriedly retrieved. It’s H, I know.
‘Clumsy as ever,’ I murmur to myself as I mentally shake my head and turn over with a sigh. Part of me wonders vaguely if I should get up and check the damage but then sleep claims me.
Continue reading “Mornings like these”
One day, when my son was 6, I watched him as he put on his socks.
He studied each of his toes, decided his big toe made for a good gun and pretended to spray the room with bullets. Then he examined the socks, put them on, studied the dinosaur design, realised they were inside out, so off they came and it began all over again. And then there was the other foot. All this while I stood, one eye on the clock, an ear out for the school bus which would arrive any moment.
Continue reading “On the hunt for ideas”
If you’ve been a visitor here you’ll know I’m a bit of an obsessive mom (duh!) and an obsessive reader.
But there’s more. Today I am digging out, from my deep dark past, ten things you probably didn’t know about me.
Continue reading “I, Me, Myself”
Once, at a Litfest, my friend and I were attending a session and the speaker asked the audience, ‘How many of you are writers?’ My friend had just signed a contract for her very first book and her hand shot up almost on its own.
I however, found myself hesitating. ‘Am I writer?’ A journalist, yes. An editor, yes. But a writer?
Continue reading “If I stopped being a writer”
‘Let’s get some flower pots inside,’ says N, in preparation for her birthday when she wants everything to look pretty.
She’s the only other person in the family who even notices said flower pots. Though calling them that is a bit of a euphemism given that most of them are flowerless greens. With my very limited gardening skills, all I can realistically aim for is keeping even these alive and healthy. When the occasional peace lily shows up there is much celebration.
Continue reading “A little bit of green”