• 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…

  • open mouth
    #F4TFriday,  Words

    Do not disturb

    The sound of the key turning in the lock jolted me from my reverie. I knew that he would be standing behind me, surveying the sight of me in my underwear, obediently kneeling next to the bed. I’d chosen a matching set of dark grey silk and lace.  I thought that the colour showed my pale skin at its best.  I knew that the knickers cupped and displayed my bum well because of times spent in front of the mirror trying to create the perfect bum pic to send him.  I hoped my real life body lived up to the picture’s teasing promise. I imagined the sign on the hotel…

  • #WickedWednesday,  Words

    Stastics and Damn Lies – On numbers and hard work

    I have always been crap at numbers and pay very little attention to my follower counts, number of views, or links. I am mostly just happy to be able to do this and I avoid creating goals or targets for fear of missing them or disappointing myself or people whose opinion matters to me. In short, I fear failure because I do not believe in my ability to create my own success. With that in mind the yearly blogging awards is something that I cannot avoid, and actually don’t want to as, as contrary as it sounds, I do want to feel part of a community in spite of choosing…

  • #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…

  • Words

    SinfulSunday – Morning glory

    The Sun called to me today as I opened my curtains. “Let Me warm you,” He said. “Feel it in your bones. Let Me flow over your skin and in My glow, know, that spring is on its way as surely as I will rise tomorrow.” So I did. Don’t forget to click on the link below to see what other wonderful images have been posted this week 💋

  • #F4TFriday,  #sexbloggersformentalhealth,  Words

    Under the same moon – a #F4tFriday post

    We spend most of our lives apart.  We live our days out going to work or sorting chores or household tasks at the weekend.  We see  separate friends separately.  We cook and eat at a hundred and ten miles distance.  I don’t help him to reach a difficult place to soap His back in the shower.  He doesn’t hold a coat open for me to put on a coat with ease.  Our kisses are infrequent, our hugs can be counted on the fingers of no hands most weeks, we rarely sleep with limbs entwined and yet I count this as my most intimate relationship ever. This wasn’t planned.  Our love…