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Thursday's Child
www.thursdays-child.com
8
Fourth of four, I hail from under a flightpath but moved to the west country in my late 20's vowing I would never leave. Fate, Flickr and a grey-haired man intervened and in 2007 I moved to the Shire to live with Joe Brown. I claim to not like clutter but litter surfaces, I eat healthily but drink too much red wine and covet roll-ups. I have a wardrobe of beautiful clothes I love from my days of wearing sharp suits, heels and painting my nails with Chanel's Rouge Noir but am now to be found in combat trousers and muddy boots as I appear to have become a gardener. I can draw a cross-section of true secondary thickening in dicotyledonous stems, I take pictures often and have to clean my nails every day. I'm truly shocked that I'm in my mid 40's but laugh often with my man who completes my picture.
#161052 in All , #9235 in Personal

Thursday’s Cat

I’ve dreamt about him every night for the last week since he’s gone, vivid dreams that melt away as I wake but amongst the jumbled stories that fill my sleep I’m conscious that his ...

09 mar 12

Hibernate Hill

There is ice on the inside of some of the windows at The House on the Hill and the fine, icing sugar snow which fell a few days ago is frozen solid. It cracked underfoot as I walked up the garden ye...

01 feb 12

Really?

  We’d turned off the motorway just in to the border after hours of a long, hard drive, pitiful mewing coming from the back every time we’d bumped over a pothole on the way. Belgian...

23 dec 11

She’ll be six now …

and six days.

04 dec 11

The House on the Hill

The village is perched on a hill, reached by roads that wind through evergreen and deciduous forestry, late summer sun flashing and sparkling through the foliage. There are sometimes alarming drop...

03 oct 11

Sunday

I’ve been looking forward to today for weeks, with visions of a lazy Sunday breakfast at the dining table with my husband in our new home in our new country, morning sun streaming through the w...

11 sep 11

Thirty first: Timescale

It feels as though I should upload a meaningful picture and write a profound, end of month post to mark the end of the August Break but, frankly, I’m too tired. That says it all about this mon...

31 aug 11

Twenty Ninth: Red, White and Blue

Levi’s, dotty knickers, flip flops.

29 aug 11

Twenty eighth: Sad Sarah

My eldest sister bought Sarah for me, in typical thoughtful, generous style out of money from her first wage packet when she starting working aged sixteen. I must have been ten and rather growing ou...

28 aug 11

Twenty Seven: All good things

Champagne afternoon tea, with fondant fancies and my sisters this afternoon.

27 aug 11

Twenty sixth: Stuff

For insurance purposes, we have to provide the packers with an inventory of pretty much everything we own with cost to replace “in the country to where you are going”. I have therefore s...

26 aug 11

Twenty Fifth: Good and Bad

The good news is that the turnaround time from the time the removers arrive to pack up The Little House by the Big Wood to the time they arrive to oust our stuff at the other end is four days. This ...

25 aug 11

Twenty Fourth: Out of Time

As I trooped up the path this morning with a boxful of archive paperwork to be burned in the garden incinerator rather than cart it with us to the small country The Week After Next, I spotted this pr...

24 aug 11

Twenty Third: And so to bed

Two weeks from hereon, Joe Brown and I will have slept in the Little House by the Big Wood for the last time before tunneling our way to the continent with the cat. It’s been a long time comin...

23 aug 11

Ninth: Barley twist and beeswax

I worked this morning in the garden of a lady who’s 80. She has an easy but difficult garden to work in – borders are stuffed which make for less weeds but what weeds there are can be pe...

10 aug 11

Eighth: The Red Stuff

Jam. Raspberry. Homegrown.

08 aug 11

Seventh: Kindness

Apparently, I can take plants to the small country from my garden. I checked and double-checked. It took me two days before I plucked up the courage to tell Joe Brown, fearing his response would be...

07 aug 11

Sixth: LBM

I sometimes take a shower using Joe Brown’s shower gel he left here.

06 aug 11

Fifth: My mate

05 aug 11

Fourth: Stamped

Someone had a rabies shot and got issued with a passport today so he can travel to the small country. Signed and stamped, he’s good to go.

04 aug 11

Third: Sungold

For the third year running, there are Sungold tomatoes in the greenhouse and, believe me, you haven’t tasted a homegrown tomato as good as a Sungold.

03 aug 11

Second: Second hand

I took a day off gardening work one day last week and headed out west, primarily to take a walk round a particular wood, something I’d not done for some months. It would have been It was my mo...

02 aug 11

First: Red Rose

Tomorrow there is someone coming round the house to troop through rooms taking pictures so someone else can see if they possibly want to come and live here whilst we’re away in the Small Countr...

01 aug 11

One day

My attire consisted of organic cotton, pearls real and fake, a watch that had belonged to my mother which Sister One had mended, dark red LK Bennett shoes, Chanel Rouge Noir, black Baccara roses, eye...

21 jun 11

Fourth

The first man to ask was a friend I’d known from schooldays. Nothing more, never, ever in my eyes. Tall, smiley, with gentlemanly ways. He was a peripheral friend, present on the outskirts o...

23 mar 11

And the winner is …

Joe Brown was tasked with picking a name out of the breakfast bowl. Email me your address Mel, and The Lacuna’s on its way. Happy New Year to all, and that includes all those who remain silent...

01 jan 11

A joy to read

At the airport on our way to the Small Country a couple of weeks ago, I decided to buy a book to while away the possible loose time that I may have. Wandering the aisles, I fell upon the name Kingso...

21 dec 10

Mardi Cow

Frozen soil followed by a thin layer of melt-in-the-mouth royal icing on the ground rendered me unable to garden this week. As the nights and year draw in and to a close, there is a certain sense of...

05 dec 10

Mrs Jones

“She’s hard going” said the man at the garden centre as he handed me a piece of paper with a name and number scribbled on it. “In what way?” I asked. I already had a co...

09 nov 10

Our best bet

The motto of the country is ‘We want to remain what we are’, a rather justifiable motto when you take in to account its chequered history having been passed from pillar to post for centur...

20 sep 10

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