Posts

Sparrows, in mem and harmonising.

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1. I can't see them, but I can hear the sparrows spatting and quarrelling on the garden wall. We now have a small family flock, with some juveniles who occasionally squat with tucked necks and wide beaks, begging for a feed. Perhaps the parents will try another brood as the summer turns, and the flock will grow. 2. I have occasion to remember our butterfly, Bob, who never flew because one of his wings didn't inflate properly. But in his fortnight, he got on with sunbathing and sitting among flowers and fruit in our kitchen and in the garden. 3. Open mic -- I'm struck by the poems that open the boxes of memory and bundles of experience that people carry with them, sorting and curating the contents so that they can be decoded and understood by others.
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Lunchbreak, plant food and poem.

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1. As always, our lunch is a whirl. Salad, sandwich, all the gossip, coffee, a couple of photos, a shared cake, a little birthday candle, a funny meme. It's over far too soon, but we must get back to our desks. 2. Stirring bright turquoise plant food into watering cans and sharing it around the garden. 3. I'm trying and trying to learn one of my poems so I can recite it from memory, looking right at the audience; and so that it's mine, no matter what. It's hard -- as hard as writing it; and frustrating because I've got the words how I want them on a page, but some phrases are tricky to speak, or difficult to remember. But each time I go through, it feels less ragged and more like itself.
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Green tea, leftovers and career choices.

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1. After a fraught school run in the main heat of the day, I can take my huge mug of green tea out of the fridge. 2. The leftover Chiang Mai chicken is just is delicious this evening as it was for supper last night. 3. It's been a bad day, but we're sitting on his bed with him, and he's wondering what an actuary does, and whether a career as an analyst might suit him.
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Celebrations, cake plate and jump scare.

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1. This is the weekend when she officially walks over the teenage threshold. She has organised most of the celebrations with lists and sticky notes, using us like extra arms and legs to make things the way she likes.  2. We bring in flowers and alpine strawberries and snips of herbs for the cake plate. 3. One good jump scare gives our nervous systems an airing.
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Nonpareils, bunting and open-top.

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1. 150g of rainbow nonpareils has been delivered, and it looks sufficient for our needs. 2. Every time I see her, she is working with scissors and card, preparing pastel decorations for her party. 3. To my startlement and delight, there is aircon in the footwell of Pete's open-top Saab; and we need it, even riding home under the high half moon well after 10pm.
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Station stairs, buds and hot weather meals.

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1. Seeing a familiar face coming up the stairs at the station. 2. There is the promise of nasturtium flowers in furled buds with a snip of red and yellow showing. Maybe tomorrow or maybe the next day. 3. No one feels like eating much -- but there are some bones of cold chicken to pick at, and thin slices of bread and butter.
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Around, draught and moon-by-daylight.

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1. Breakfast in the garden during a heatwave. Down the wall and over, the tidal sounds of next door's bathwater, and someone else, further away, sings softly. 2. Sat deep in the sofa in the draught from the open window, we can hear people going up and down the hill. 3. Peering through binoculars at the moon-by-daylight, viewing the great craters and the shadows in the dust.
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