A lie in

10.41am ( sat in bed writing)

I am expecting Naoise to wake at any moment. I cannot believe he is still snoozing. Patrick is out buying eggs and bread and tea bags and coffee. He is annoyed that lidls no longer sells fair trade coffee.

Our heads are in fair trade world. We have to help Naoise with some homework today titled where in the world does food come from? 

The homework is not our homework it is his but it feels like ours.

We will go out and try and find mushrooms. There are many this year the long warm autumn must be good for fungus breading.

I have a hangover, I probably shouldn’t have drunk the bacardi and coke on top of the red wine and white wine.

We women all sat on the soggy leather sofas and talked. I am so lucky to have such wonderful women in my life. I love womens company. I long for it. I am outnumbered in my family of men, man/boy and boy. The cat used to provide some female company.

I went home last night with happy memories, more bars of green and black chocolate, candle sticks an orchid, a broach in the shape of a bird and a beautiful skirt with Frida Khalo’s face on it. What a lucky woman I am. Life is rich when you have good  friends. Connection. Connection

Patrick is back,  he shouts up the stairs tea or coffee ? 

Syd is at his dads. Its quiet in the house. Just the sound of cars slipping on the road. Sunday.

Time slipping. This is my idea of a good Sunday. Sunday is the day of rest.


From Caravaggio to Graham Ovenden: do artists’ crimes taint their art?Emine Saner, Saturday 17th October, The Guardian


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