• Me,  Words

    Here goes

    I procrastinate, double-bind myself, hesitate, and then ... Well you know what they say about he who hesitates don't you? So here goes.

  • Me,  Words

    A Manifesto for my 63rd year

    I started the piece of writing thinking I was going to make a list of places I wanted to visit and experiences I wanted to have. I guess that will have to wait for another post as this is what came out of the ends of my fingers.

  • Us,  Words

    Object Permanence

    He’s gone again. It was a Friday morning full of leaving. No matter how hard I try it always fore-shadows the day. I am saying good-bye before I need to, protecting myself from the pain and beginning to wrap myself up in don’t cares and see you soons that sound as hollow as they feel. This time was different. I was monitoring myself, checking in with how I really felt rather than my habitual ways of dealing with separation. The old wounds were still there, I could feel the scar tissue itching. My old habits were waiting in the wings for their cue but centre stage was a clarity of…

  • us in tent
    Moments,  Us,  Words

    It wouldn’t be enough

    A long time ago, in a small market town, there lived a woman who thought she knew what it was to be loved and that if she didn’t feel loved the problem was with her.  She spent a lot of time adjusting her attitude, practising gratitude, and learning all she could about how to keep her husband and children happy.  Because that was a her role, her aim in life, and her happiness.  She knew this. She also knew that she would die someday and her gravestone would read ‘could have done better’. When she met a man who seemed to offer everything she needed, Who understood her need to…

  • hand on leg
    Words

    When next we meet – I will wear purple

    It’s been 119 days since we met. Since I breathed in your scent at the delicious point where your shoulder meets your neck. Under the crisp collar, a tender spot that lures me everytime we meet to breathe deeply and sigh, and smile. Home I think. Home I feel. This is home, I hear myself saying.

  • Me,  Moments,  Words

    Lessons I have learnt from grief

    Those of you that follow me on twitter will have seen my message about my mum’s death. She became ill with Corvid-19 around a week ago, her nursing home had an outbreak in the corridor of the building her room was on and they locked it down to isolate those people who were ill with it from those that weren’t. In retrospect it hasn’t taken long at all, however it feels like a journey of a million steps from there to here. Mum was comparatively physically robust, certainly when I contrast her with my dad’s frailty of the three years before he died. Her mind was where her fragility showed.…

  • Moments,  Words

    Go for a walk, then write about it

    I was reminded the other day about the state known as subfrenzy.  This is most notable in women who become aware of the concept of a D/s relationship, often via films or writings of some kind and then become obsessed with finding a Dom or getting their slightly bemused partner to Dominate them.  This is often not accompanied by proper exploration or evaluation of the risks and benefits.  Many people, and I include myself in that category, do not have a well functioning method of communication, understand the concept of consent or have good boundaries.  Many are co-dependent and see D/s as a way to explain why they see themselves…

  • Me,  Moments,  Words

    Love in a time of Corona Virus – when your relationship is LDR or complicated

    I don’t know about you but I am aware of tears not being far away most of the time.  Outwardly I am doing OK, if a little distracted during my working day and finding it hard to concentrate and focus.  But when you are self isolating that could be expected I think and in the main I am supported, my work is OK and my family well so far.  So, why the tears? If I enquire more closely into my feelings I notice this sense of loss, and below that fear of more loss, layered over an uncertainty that I haven’t felt for a while. Generally my sense of being…

  • woman with plaits
    #F4TFriday,  Words

    #F4TFriday – oops we did it again!

    You might have seen my twitter posts with #InAField as the tag over the last couple of years.  Initially they were accompanied by pictures of our candlelabra as we ate in the evening.  Most recently the pictures have included boots, tweed jackets and sometimes have even been taken from the back of a carriage as we have careered around a field.  After a lifetime of not being sporty I find myself a competitor in a sport so far removed from my working class background that it makes me gasp. Think of Ben Hur, minus the wheel spurs obviously, and complete with a woman hanging onto the back of a carriage…

  • #F4TFriday,  Me,  Moments,  Words

    Regrets – I have a few, but then again …

    How far do you go back? Before I was a woman, before I felt autonomous, before I was a mother, before I was a wife, before I knew, before I understood, before I could, before I knew I should, before when I thought I was loved, before I knew I was loved? I don’t know about you but regrets seem to come with a sense of responsibility and capability. If I look back I can only do it through the eyes of the person I am now. If I revisit places I feel I have fallen short, the ones where I have real regrets, I do it with a sense…