All hallows eve.

8.58 am

Someone is a wake. I was hoping that they would stay asleep so I could write this. I have been up for an hour. Pottering. Hanging washing on the laundry rack and the radiator. Putting towels into the tumble dryer. I think its P I can hear, not the little steps of little boy or thundering steps of teenage boy.

So peace for a little longer.

Naoise looks like a halloween pumpkin now that both of his front teeth have come out. Its not raining this morning. Maybe we will manage a walk. Maybe we will carve the large orange pumpkin on the table in front of me.


Yesterday was a fiasco, and my back still hurts from five hours spent in a traffic not ever reaching our destination and just returning home. We completed an entire circle around Manchester and then skirted around the centre before heading back north east and over the hill to Yorkshire. I love it when we reach the top of the Backup road and drop down into the comfort of the Calder Valley. I wished yesterday that I had never left it. Me and Syd listened to a lot of music and radio yesterday and cursed at cars driven badly. We were glad just to get back alive and with the car still running. The car has been making a growling sound. The growls have been getting louder.

I dreamt that I was on a walk to a house in the forest. Other parents and their children from my friends school were trying to get to this house.  I was leaving and making my way up hill, when a flock of sheep and deer terrified came running down the hill. A large snarling wolf was in pursuit. We all ran into the house to take cover from the wolf. I remember little else of this dream, other than trying to find something to feed the ravenous wolf with, and feeling fearful.

When I first entered the kitchen this morning a robin was standing on the fence in the yard and it stared directly at me. Its been an age since I saw the baby robins. Since putting fat balls on the bay, the maple and the buddleia plants we have had more visitors mainly bluetits.

Syds phone has broken, he is desperate for a new one. The car needs mending at the garage, Syd needs a new phone. There is always something that needs maintaining or mending or replacing. I need a job, oh how I need a job so that each of these incidents is not as stressful as this. There is no fall back. There is no cushion. We will magic some money from somewhere. We will find a way.

I want to stage an event for M(other) Stories a reading day. I want to read to at least ten people from my studio. Ten extracts from ten months of writing.

I feel that this project has lost its way. I need  to be reading some theory again. Give it some structure Maybe it has a life of its own. Will I miss it when it has gone. When will I stop? Do I stop on the day that I started 16th December or do I keep writing until there are exactly 365 posts? I think it best I stop in the new year. It would then feel as if I had come completely full circle.

I am concerned that I am comfort eating again. Last night I ate cracker after cracker, chunk of cheese after chunk of cheese. Its cruel that I do this to myself. It happens when I am stressed when its the changing seasons, as it gets dark. I hate the lack of light and day. I am fearful about standing on the scales. I don’t want to face what I have done. I am the hungry wolf that needs constant feeding. I need to run. Run with the wolves.

Me and Naoise completed Moomins in Midwinter. He wants to read another Moomins. I like reading Moomins. Its calm and gentle and wise. I like to read books that reflect the season that I am living in. Books that deal with the passage of time and how nature affects humans.

The washing machine tumble dryer gently chugs. So much to do. So little time. What a messy house. Where to begin, where to end?


Christian Boltanski: the artist counting the seconds till his own demise, Sarah Moroz, Monday 26th October, The Guardian

We filmed our baby’s birth – it’s wonderful to watch, Laura Brown, Saturday 31st October, The Guardian

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