Stormy stormy night

Stormy, stormy, electricity off, windy, wet, darkness a recipe for excitement or disaster. My friend woke up yesterday with a child's garden trampoline draped across his front door. That's windy for you.

The Hooded Man

I had a dream once, the most important one of my life, I believe. I was looking out of my childhood home window down the hill and I saw a tree. In real life it was in the wrong place, but in my dream it was the right place. Standing beside the tree was a hooded man who should have been scarey but wasn't. I felt that I'd always known him and that he always had stood next to the tree. Then he turned around and walked away and I tried to shout "Come back! Come back!" but I couldn't speak. I was very distressed and unhappy that the hooded man had walked away but I couldn't stop him. I woke myself up trying to shout out "Come back! Come back!" I woke my boyfriend lying next to me in my new home, living my new life.

Small town

The other day I was leaning out of my ground floor bedroom window to wash it for the first time in about 6 months - I'm not a great hoose wifery type. And here's why...a little old lady whom I have never met before walked by, stopped and came back and said "oo its a grand thing you're doing there, washing yer windows, and isn't it a nice day?" "Yes" I said "it's a lovely day - the windows get a lot o stoor from the cars on the road" And off she went. This is why I hate washing the windows. If your outside standing on a chair, you get toots from the cars, if your leaning oot the window, its an invitation for a chat with a complete stranger.

Clearing out

I've been moving rooms swapping bedrooms for weeks now. I keep getting distracted with my books. They are all a peace in my puzzle, a glimpse of my past, my babies. I don't like stuffing them in crates and hiding them away. I've inherited a lot too, so some are bits of my granny's past too. And I've found that she hid little notes in between the pages - christian phrases, pieces of calendars for important dates and pressed flowers. In every book I find another little token that she's left behind.