Aiming High

A shiver ripples down my spine as the little cupids run out from behind a bush with arrows aimed aloft. The music marks the mischievous turn when war turns to love and then seeds are sown for a little romance of the Shakespearean variety. Will there be tears and tragedy? Will Romeo get his Juliet? I suspect that for us there will be a happy ending – we have a week until the performance and the rehearsals are going well.

A touch of beauty in a world less beautiful

The picket fence throws striped shadows on the flagstones.  Once irritatingly laid in a straight diagonal path, now they define the quickest way to home and a refuge from the sorrow and pain of the outside world.

Only it’s not.  Constantly bombarded by news from beyond my sanctuary, I go outside once more and admire the spring violets which defiantly bloom around the ugly path and add beauty to a world that is not so beautiful at this moment.

A Lesson Learned

Practise papers and revision books lie scattered over the bed and floor of her bedroom and you can’t see her desk for study guides and notebooks. All my gentle reminders followed by incessant nagging have now been heeded. It’s going to be a long evening…
Back to school in the morning.

Gaining Pounds

The nice ones might say, “No, I don’t need help, thank you very much,but I will give you some money for your collection.” The children smile and respond with a polite, “Thank you.” Then they wait patiently for their next…potential customer.

You can understand really, we adults do hover but occasionally a packet of biscuits needs rearranging from underneath a multipack of baked beans.

It soon dawns and I share the knowledge – the ones most likely to take them up on their offer are the harassed single parents with a toddler trying to climb out of the trolley. They look so relieved and hand them the bags thankfully while simultaneously grabbing a stray leg emerging from the depths of the wire cage. Gratitude sometimes comes in the form of some loose change, other times it’s an apologetic smile of thanks. The bag-packers don’t seem to mind too much. They feel grown up.

All in all it’s a good afternoon’s work. They do a little dance, everyone claps and we go home £150 heavier…

What’s in a Name?

A Silly Saturday Stone

I pulled a pair of socks from my Matched Socks Bag, as opposed to my Odd Socks Bag – unfortunately Odd Socks Day was not a lasting thing, anyway the socks had ‘Sunday’ knitted into them. I put them back – It’s Saturday.
Got me thinking…if everyone was as silly where would we be?
Only people called Jack Wills would be able to wear half of my daughter’s wardrobe – my other daughter has sunglasses with the name Ray Ban on the side…
I presume that Sloggi knickers could only adorn the pelvis of someone who was likely to come from Scandinavia. Not to mention the fact that Calvin Klein’s sales would plummet…
I take the socks back out of the bag and put them on.

The Divine Finger Pointeth

An indigo grey rain cloud sits oppressively over the land, turning everything colourless with anticipation. I drive towards the white chalk cliff which lies shadowed and quiet. Then, out at sea a cargo ship catches my eye. A lone beam of sunlight illuminates this one among the many who wait for the approaching storm – as though caught in a spotlight of suspicion. I illogically wonder if it carries contraband of some kind…

Lacking

Knowledge

is power

so they say…

I can’t know much.

Powerless.

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