We saw a newt. Bending over the pond we gazed into the water and ¬†under the pond weed, between mud and sticks and large tadpoles there it was. I can’t remember the last time I saw a newt probably when I was a child, living in Derbyshire. I would climb over the willow tree into the allotment and play with newts. I would balance them on sticks and push them across the water trough. Me and my brother and sisters had races; whose newt would speed across the surface of the trough the quickest.

Naoise rushed to find his dad to share the newt discovery with him but it was all too late as when he returned to see the newt had crept back to the side of the pond. I found the newt once more but Patrick missed seeing it once more, even though it was directly in front of his face.

Syd has been out playing with friends all day. I miss him. I am uncertain about these teenage years. I like to hold my family close. Just have them each near to me.

Even men interrupt. Clueless to the need for a flow an ordering of words.

Its sunny. The river flows. Some music from the neighbours garden. Sitting in the yard, under the bay and the jasmine. All the plants look thirsty. I haven’t the energy to water them, no one else cares. They don’t think about what needs to be done. We are all of us staring at screens now. Naoise is tending to dragons, I think Patrick is reading the newspaper on his phone and Syd, he is probably watching glastonbury.

Sip the wine. I am so so hungry. I walked a long way up the track to the house with the open garden way on the tops at the same height as studley pike. What a view. Raised beds a meter tall to protect vegetables from the wind. Willow. Ash also building a border. Purple Kale. Huge Rhubarb.

Its raining baby.…the music plays. Its not raining though, not one drop. Its a perfect summers day sun, slight wind, its as best as it gets up here. Up North. How I long for the south and its milder climate, probably will always be a longing. I have given up with the idea of ever being able to make any life choices or decisions. Oh no the neighbours music is truly dreadful, some sort of Abba song but worse. It is Abba.

I give in. I cannot concentrate in others presence. I can’t be bothered with this. I am just hungry and want to be with my boys and not have to even think about this. I am falling out of love with this project. It no longer interests me. I am grinding to a halt.



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