Tuesday, May 21, 2024

Bramble flowers, bee and his own.

1. The bramble flowers strike me as unusually large this year -- almost like dog roses that have been through the wash too many times and come out faded and crumpled.

2. Coaxing a bee out of the window with a piece of card. Bees never seem frantic or annoyed -- they just keep trying, systematically, to find the way out.

3. As I test my son on his French, I think that his neat, cramped handwriting is very much his own -- nothing like mine; nothing like Nick's.

Novel, coming back and ready for December.

1. In the early hours, I'm awake, all alone -- but I've got a new novel on my library app: a fenland gothic Saxon mystery called Mer...