Tuesday, October 03, 2023

Catalogue, parcel and starlings.

1. Nick brings the Lidl weekly catalogue home at coffee time. We pore over the flimsy pages, examining the coming Eastern European week, and the orange and black Halloween offerings.

2. Putting a parcel in the post. The price has gone up to nearly £5, but it's still cheaper than taking a day off work to deliver it by hand.

3. A few starlings -- probably not enough for a murmuration -- taking test flights from the top of the tower.

Monday, October 02, 2023

Daisy, cookies and badge.

1. We don't have a lawn, and I miss daisies very much. But last summer a good Bellis perennis appeared in between the paving stones. It was such a high footfall spot, though, that I dug them out and put them in a shallow pan planter to see if they would do. They've made themselves at home, and I have high hopes for next spring. 

2. Alec returns with some of the cookies he and his friend have baked.

3. The gold back of Bettany's deputy head girl badge gleaming on her desk, ready for tomorrow.

Friday, September 29, 2023

Transport, showtunes and smooth journey.

1. There's something rather hopeful about a city so full of bikes that parents and children cycle together at rush hour. 

2. At the very back of this slow, near-empty train, someone is singing showtunes, taking requests and enjoying the unusual acoustics.

3. It's been a slow journey, but I pretty much walk on to a Tube train, and then on to a train heading towards home. I've had plenty of time to read, and plenty of time to think about everything I've seen and done today.

Wednesday, September 27, 2023

Sausage rolls, case and horror shorts.

1. The sausage rolls come out of the freezer pale and cardboardy. But 25 minutes in the oven and they are crisp, golden and tasty.

2. A friend has lent Bettany exactly the kind of suitcase she wanted for her school residential trip.

3. Another editor recommended The Magnus Archives podcast for its eerie horror short stories, and I listen to a couple as I wind down for the evening. It has the framing device of a frustrated and misanthropic archivist trying to make sense of a disorganised archive of uncanny experiences. The stories are satisfying and original, very much in the spirit of the not too horrible Victorian tales that I enjoy.

Monday, September 25, 2023

Geese, nails and tea.

1. Still half asleep, I hear geese going over the roof. Autumn is here.

2. Bettany paints my nails, and then I paint hers. 

3. I really was very ready for that cup of tea.

Thursday, September 21, 2023

Flown, TV night and wet socks.

1. The fly with has been bothering me while I'm meditating for the last couple of days finds its way out of the back door.

2. It's just us girls this evening. Bettany lines her babies up on the sofa so we can all watch Red Dwarf together. But it's a scary one ('Quarantine'), so we follow up with a Mabel-centric episode of Gravity Falls.

3. A rather bouncy Alec returns from Scouts, boings up the stairs to see me, and bobs about the room telling me how wet his socks are.

Wednesday, September 20, 2023

Look up, fighter and falling asleep.

1. I'm looking in the wrong place. Both girls are up near the ceiling in Bettany's high sleeper. 

2. Games night. My reporter character is standing in the right place to shoot a depraved Nazi sorcerer (they're the worst kind).

3. I fall asleep holding my phone on which I'm listening to Doreen Carwithen's East Anglian Holiday and playing a word puzzle.

Catalogue, parcel and starlings.

1. Nick brings the Lidl weekly catalogue home at coffee time. We pore over the flimsy pages, examining the coming Eastern European week, and...