• #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…

  • #F4TFriday,  Me,  Moments,  Words

    Friends – a #F4tFriday post

    She found me raging in the university library about the lack of books, about the assumption that mature students could afford either the time to search for secondhand books or the money to buy them new.  I was raging, spitting derision for the place, for the expectations and hiding behind that rage from my fear that I had made a terrible mistake.  She saw my rage and didn’t hide from it, she knew it wasn’t aimed at her and wonder of wonders, what made me spiky and difficult to befriend for others became the reason she liked me.  She always knew that my rage had the energy to overcome my…

  • #F4TFriday,  Moments,  Words

    #F4TFriday – Memories, Moments and Wanting More

    The Beach Boys are playing ‘God Only Knows, as I type this in front of a fire that I hefted the coal for into my car boot at the garage as He got soaked to the skin putting air in my sodden tyres to keep me safe.  In this cosy setting we paint us on a canvas bought for another purpose.  We paint over the existing brush strokes with our conversations, moving from twitter to plans, to work, to people we know, with ease and interest.  We lighten the shadows, highlight an obscured point of interest, deepen the darkest places until they glow again.  Sometimes we just hug on His…

  • #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…

  • Moments,  Wicked Wednesday,  Words

    Sugar

    Another long day had nagged at her enjoyment of the smallest things.  Usually able to take pleasure in the intense aroma of a well-made cup of coffee or at the sight of a turning leaf falling from a tree through an arc of sunlight, today’s demands had made her hair grey rather than silver and threatened the reliable smile on her face. She needed something sweet to reconnect her with delight once more but was unable to deliver it to herself in her careworn state. Her phone pinged with a notification – Here Yes, she replied and proceeded to empty her cares into the phone, telling him of the additional…

  • 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…