7pm this evening

I am disorientated.Didn’t write this at the usual time. Now piecing together some notes and some images that don’t quite make sense, time frame blurred. Head blurred.


9am this morning

Not at home, I can hear a mobile phone alarm, now switched off. A white rabbit. A cockerel crowing. Wet, damp, grey day. The rabbit looks at me, its munching hay. The sound of the television. A turquoise bowl filled with the crimson of pomegranate seeds.

Naoise and Patrick asleep upstairs. We stayed up late, saw the new year in, drank too much red and bubbly. Set off the fireworks that had been hanging around on the bookshelf in our front room for the past 13 months. We lit them in the park, the rockets woodshed above the wood line. They had fantastic names; golden fountain, tidal, and morning sunlight. These small domestic size fireworks were unpredictable but fun, so much fun.

Last year ended with a bang this year started with a pop and bubbles. Afterwards we sat and laughed, talked nonsense about “bog art” and Bear Grylls cooking veal on a tampon and collecting water in a condom.

I am wearing my onesy, I am warm, I am snug.


Sip the tea.

The kettle boils again.

Its all different here lighter, quieter than our home by the main road.

Sip the tea.

The ice under feet. The ice on the stones. The wilds above Widdop.

Already children knocking at the door, wanting to play with their children.

Washing up, should help.

I’ll help.

Later 10 more minutes at home around 11.30 am


The new year has messed up my routine. Sipping coffee and sobering up. House a pickle. Naoise making stop motion animations on Patricks phone. Thankfully dinopaws is now switched off. Bag packed with home made bread and a quarter of mums christmas cake. Its still grey and cold outside. Naoise is making an animation  with his star wars model, Patrick is helping him. Its windy, you can hear the whooshing down the chimney.


The scratch on my hand from Naoise toe nail seems to be infected.

I rang Sydney in London to wish him a new year. I could hear his little brother playing in the background. I still feel he has been stollen from me. I keep busy, play with my friends.

I love the soundtrack Naoise is making as he plays with his star wars models.

Trees sway, some traffic on the road, but it is mostly quiet.

“Yoshimi battles the pink robs….yoshimi battles the pink robs’ sings Naoise.

Hair wet. Wind Wind. Can’t really write anything, think straight with Naoise and Patrick in the room. Need to be alone with my thoughts.

More discussion about animation, needing tripods. Loops of sound repeating. Patrick directs, Naoise moves the lego characters.

Buzzer sounds on the oven, ten minutes past.



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