Posts

Brown birds, red cabbage and winding down.

1. Sparrows tumble in and out of the sky on unknowable little brown bird business. 2. I hack out a crisp quarter slice out of a red cabbage head and peer within to admire the white on purple curlicues. 3. At the end of the day, there is a heavy autumn duvet and the comfort of Naomi Alderman's memoir  crossed with scientific thriller The Strangers. 

Clear morning, contact and coming home.

1. The forecast, and the falling pressure, promise wet weather, but for now the light is fresh and busy, and the sky is such a kindly blue. 2. It's a work handover, but it's also a chat and a catch-up. 3. Our post sometimes goes astray to a street with a similar name. I had plans to walk over and pick up a missing parcel once I got to a good stopping place with my work, when the doorbell rang. From Nick's cheery tones, I guess that it's our house number twin bringing my parcel round.

Wriggler, sappy and into the rain.

1. There's that moment when a story twists in your hands and becomes its own self. 2. I've been pruning back the acer tree in the front garden, and there's the sharp fresh smell of the green branches as I bring them round to the compost heap. 3. When the rain begins falling steadily, first one child and then the other leaves the house for some time  alone in the wet woods.

New dress, sparrows on tour and box.

1. Today is a new dress day. It's the same shape and cut as one of my old dresses that is about to fall to rags, and I am very grateful to have found it. 2. The flock of sparrows is greedily investigating the gaps between our pavers and making use of the bird bath. With their skittish confidence and swagger, they remind me of a group of badly behaved tourists, possibly a stag party, or some young sales people attending a conference in a faraway city. 3. The man ahead of me in the coffee shop queue cradles a long steel box, and I am consumed by curiosity so I don't mind a bit of a wait while he unpacks his sharpened knives, boxes up half a dozen blunt blades and receives his payment.

Non-uniform day, parcel of chips and winter clothes.

1. 'Are you sure it's non-uniform day?' Luckily, the PTA has issued a reassuring flyer, which I can send to his phone. 2. Bringing home a parcel of chips for tea.  3. Sorting through my winter clothes and finding that I do in actual fact own some beautiful tights; and also that there are gaps that mean I need to choose some more.

Extra, boots and seed beads.

1. I take the extra fifteen minutes of sleep after the alarm. 2. I give up on forcing my feet into pairs of boots that look like my old boots, and ask for a completely different pair -- biker-style boots with solid soles and buckles on the ankles. I slip in like I've been wearing them for weeks. 3. The instructions suggest gluing seed beads into place -- but I can't be doing with the mess of glue, and there's a beading needle with a tiny eye right there in my sewing box. 

Rainy day, quick return and French verbs.

1. We realise that he had an umbrella all along. 2. An author comes back with her edits after 48 hours -- she's already moved on to the next book and doesn't want to leave that world for too long.  3. French revision: her pleasure in realising that the verb in the question is the verb she needs to use in the answer.