Monday, May 26, 2025

Notes, fairy glade and columbines.

1. Glancing sideways so that it doesn't seem as if I am looking, I see that she has an app on her phone with pages of notes and lists and plans and clippings -- just like me.

2. We stray into what must be a fairy glade -- the grass is starred with pignut flowers and overhead rooks mob a buzzard -- and while we weren't watching our way, the reliable path that led us in has faded among the trees.

3. Aquilegias (descended from seed packets we got at a wedding when then children were small) mostly come up dark blue between the paving slabs in my garden -- but this year, there is one pink and white, smiling shyly at us.

Conference morning, break time and memory.

1. Waking up in a huge snow-crisp hotel bed, rather keyed up, but ready for a day in the company of other editors. 2. I take a moment to sit...