Feb, 2006. For the past five months I have been living in a car at the edge of woods — jobless and homeless and totally unable to find a way out. I can't sing, I can't dance, I can't scream loudly enough, but I can read and write. So here I am laying down tracks...hopefully the start of an online paper trail out of here. (Update: Miracles happen....if you are reading my story I am part of your proof.)

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

...I turned a corner

Today it was the smell of lilacs. I turned a corner, on a road I'd never walked down before, quite close to home, and bang... There I was a child of seven or eight again, dragging her feet on the way to the big houses under the railway bridge, where on some Sunday mornings, a tiny lady who lived in one of them sold us rhubarb, and as a treat bunches of mint for potatoes. Delicious smells that would later fill our small flat....but before we got to them, we carried our huge bundles of rhubarb wrapped in newspaper home, walking along a crescent-shaped road that was full of (what I now know to be) lilacs, and the heavenly smell cleared everything else from your mind. For a while, everything...forcing you to be in the moment.... One of the saving graces of childhood.
To this day I love lilac - the colour, the smell, the look of them...and of course the way they make my mouth water for rhubarb crumble and minted potatoes.

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Here and there

I'm sitting up here typing this under blue skies. The busy city street below my window is full of the smell of warm blossom and, now and then, when there is the occasional lull in traffic and all you hear is the slow swish of trees from neighbouring gardens and the call of birds in flight, you can close your eyes and think yourself almost anywhere. I love days like today.

Thursday, April 09, 2009

All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well...

All feels right with the world today.

Last night I made, and froze, a banoffee pie, a mound of gooey loveliness to be eaten at the weekend. The rain has stopped. The first purple bud of the desk-plant I bought last year has appeared overnight; I have just re-read psalm 23 and using my brand new keyboard have written the start of the first poem I have written in what feels like years. Also the magnolias are out and at the weekend I found a heartshaped stone on the beach and there are only 2 clear days left between now and the end of Lent. Coffee is fast approaching....And, just for today, it feels like nothing else matters.
Today I feel like someone has just given me a long, cold drink of water.

I hope all is well with you.