• #F4TFriday,  Me,  Moments,  Words

    Elpis and the Road Less Travelled

    I have a little book with me. The first entry is dated 27/07/2000, 19 years ago and 7 months into our setting up our business together with a family of four, the youngest of which was 4 years old. My thoughts were naturally revolving around my children. I can see that I am concerned with how I was spending my time with them, but also, even then, with how to be me. I write ‘The Art of Living – ways of being with children, not using the time to educate them, actually showing them yourself‘ I go further ‘How to make a job/career of that time’ Then I add ‘Therese’s…

  • Me,  Sinful Sunday

    SinfulSunday – on brand

    A hastily taken picture, edited to hide its technical failings, featuring legs and a gin with shrubbery in it, my Twitter handle in the bottom right hand corner. These are my brand. I decided last night after I posted this picture and people said they knew immediately who it was of. I feel strangely proud of having created one naturally, just by being me on Twitter! Do you have a brand? What are its attributes? Don’t forget to click on the link below to see what other wonderful images have been posted this week

  • #F4TFriday,  Me,  Words

    I am envious of everyone

    Social Media often has a bad press.  On a bad day it is true that posts I see on my timeline can trigger feelings of envy.  Below are the kinds of thoughts I have noted down as I have thought about what triggers these thoughts: I am envious of everyone and it makes me sick. I envy the people in long term relationships that can introduce others into their lives without it totally fucking everything up. I envy those that can talk honestly about their desires to each other without someone flouncing off in a sulk that could last for days and threaten the business that they own together and…

  • Me,  Moments

    The Practice of Falconry

      I am your hawk you do not ask me not to hunt you do not cope my beak or talons instead.. you exhalt in my flight employ my abilities in your service retain me under your thumb stoop-homed, breath-bated with blood feathers primed I wait.. You have me hoodwinked, made my focus yours been my excitement’s captor roused, released and recall-lured me. I keen, a lamping we go! first posted on Fetlife December 2013 still true ?

  • Me,  Moments

    What will I make of this I wonder?

    I wonder what I will make of this time when it is over.  Will it seem like an oasis of calm or a void that I am grateful to be out of?  Or will I be more certain of the importance of this space and time in the future in a way I cannot be now? This is the first time I have lived alone.  It is a strange existence, there is now no one to DO for except myself and instead of this feeling a liberation it feels more like a casting off.  No one needs me, except myself and I don’t want me, I want someone else.  I am…

  • Me,  Moments

    Playing house

    Remember the house corner in first year Infants? A corner of the classroom which was divided from the rest of the classroom with a partition to give the third wall.  Open at the front and filled with infant sized furniture, equipment and dolls? My memory is of watching others play there, mainly girls putting dolls to bed, pretending to wash up and sending the boys who wanted to play with them on shopping errands for bread and milk.  They focused on fussing around with the baby, changing its clothes, showing it off and taking it for walks and in the interaction between those they had agreed to play house with. Playing in…

  • Me,  Moments,  Words

    Unraveling

    It’s hard to unpick the fabric of lives that have been woven together for over a quarter of a century. Initially there is a tear, maybe a small one in a corner that doesn’t show. Perhaps it gets darned, perhaps not. Perhaps someone sticks a finger into the hole and makes it bigger. Perhaps it is just simply ignored or covered up in the hope that it will go away. But ultimately the fabric is weakened, and unless a timely repair is made it will not last. I was, and am, a skilled seamstress. Not so good at knitting. But when it came to weaving a life I could pull…