Category : Uncategorized

The madness of snow

4am: insomnia “Just as well I didn’t set my dogs on you”, the woman laughed. Art can be dangerous. “I just thought that your clothes pegs looked beautiful on your line, so was taking some pictures. It must have looked strange and odd, watching me from your kitchen window,  you must have thought me a

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Loosing it

6.45 am More snow, and twenty minutes set on the oven timer to wake my conscience and rub my eyes and sip newly poured tea. I have slept forever, it was necessary. My throat is sore, Syd is still at home unwell and my head is spinning with words about the matrixial that I cannot

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Ice and insomnia

6.40am Words written in the dead of the night between 1.53 am and 4.45 am There is white ice and black ice. Ice on top of snow ice. Ice on puddles, sheets of ice on the canal. Ice in the playground so children cannot play ice. Compacted ice on roads and pavement, be careful don’t

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The sledge and the volcano

6.30am It is not the clock but words that wake. Naoise sniffles and snuffles and squeaks in his sleep. I wrap him up in the duvet and the heavy wool blanket. Creep downstairs. The snow falls and falls. Last night was the coldest of the winter, temperatures down to minus 9 in the highlands of

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Another beautiful snow day

7. 20 Naoise giggles in his sleep and he is hot as a water bottle. I leave the comfort and warmth of a womb bed two duvets high. Outside the half moominland still exists, there is an inch of snow on the cars and slush on the roads. The snow fell. It fell first as

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Burnt porridge

6.55 am Porridge, measuring it out in a cup, pouring the oats into the pan, adding the correct amount of water, lighting the stove. The fire under the pan warming, wooden spoon stirring. The oats thickening and absorbing the water. Stirring. Stirring. Sometimes words can cause harm, so its best to remove the beast from

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Thank **** its Friday

6.45 am I wonder how long I can maintain this discipline of writing and posting each day. I am beginning to realise the enormity of the task. I am beginning to tire of this. Is it the words that define me or me that defines the words ? Am I being truthful, honest, or do

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Snowday

7.50am Two brothers wrapped up facing each other. A howling wind rattling the roof wakes words. A patchwork quilt of snow stitched by stone walls. Two brothers snoring. A woman and a man sleeping next too each other in a bed. She hears the traffic on the road, time to awake, he wraps his arm

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Wednesday

9.15 am It is nipple freezing weather, Syd still home unwell, movements on the stairs he has awoken. The snow has arrived, a thin dusting, nothing too dramatic. Some fell on the way to school. Small white balls collected on the hood of Naoise coat. Its later, buzzer on for 30 minutes, my friend J

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Sofa selfie

6.10 am The lights from the car headlights dance across the corner of the bedroom. Been awake since 5am. Keep waking early, but its ok. I wake and all I can think about is writing, what will be the first sentence, the opening. I wake, I get up, I put on my onesy, I go

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