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Showing posts from December, 2012


The walls and the floors that define my life began to fall from stasis towards the end of last winter and settle once more into their accustomed places around me, shielding me from the world. The furnishings and other collected accoutrement's that added texture to my home turned from grey back to their vibrant and familiar state. The numbness in my head where the only colours were in my dreams began to subside. I stepped up to the fight, I have been fighting ever since, and who could have predicted it, one thing sliding into another with hardly a respite in between, like trouble breeds trouble. Direct and in direct consequences of actions we have been forced to take to keep comfortably away from the smudged edges of the law or to secure our tenuous grasp on the world of business. I am weary of it all and I am determined to put the last lingering troublesome irritant to the back of my mind and face the New Year with a fresh and unsullied outlook.
At the end of a year in which delu…


So here we are Christmas 2012 and of course I can not help but look back to this time last year, when my life threatened to change in ways unimaginable to my happy contented brain. Standing on the brink of bankruptcy,bailiffs and homelessness, I forced myself to reach out and consider other ways of living and other ways of life. I struggled to make this giant leap from the comforts of my familiar home through a tangle of emotions, to people and places unknown. In my head I created another place, a place to retreat to, a place where I could manage, and a place where I would be safe from the constant pressure of mortgage payments, cash flow and taxes. I created a dream and I yearned to be in it often during the early part of this year, with every fibre that ached within me. Log cabins beautiful seascapes and landscapes exactly the right place for my out pouring of dissatisfaction with the world.
My experience left me shocked as I tried to grasp the consequences of losing so much work a…


I have just had the privilege of spending the weekend with my family in an old Sunday School attached to the old Chapel at Slaggyford in the North Pennines. These days it is fairly common to see old churches used as family dwellings, I thought about it myself quite seriously earlier this year when our family was in turmoil and our house on the market.

 It  felt a little strange going up to bed on Friday night and I  couldn't help wondering if any lingering ghosts or spirits might have formed a special attachment to the building. My husband had imposed a self banishment to the third bedroom in an effort to keep his developing cold to himself and save the rest of us from suffering over Christmas, our girls were sharing a room so I was left  to spend the night alone. I am usually happy going to sleep in a strange place but sometimes on waking in the night I am not so sure about things, I drifted off to sleep without problem, but did wake in the night.

 In my wakeful state I began to …


Winter reaches down from the sky sliding through the cracks and crannies on tiny crystal slivers, in and out and round about the chinks between the roof tiles and all the other tiny weathered holes in the brickwork along the north wall. Dropping from the crisp moonlight on long icy threads, catching crystals and weaving white on all the ground below. Chill falls into the attic rooms sitting pristine and forgotten at the top of the house, bereft without the sleeping bodies, laughter and tears that made them live. Seized by the unveiled windows the first light shadows track over the ceiling, halogen beams of poor unfortunates out cautiously in the black grips of the winter morning.
The heating clock clicks and the water runs ticking through the radiators and along the pipes in the floor board spaces squeezing the cold to nothingness, the day is under way.
I have been clearing the dining room in preparation for Christmas, the folders and files, plans and maps, the artwork portfolios and…


Somewhere in the world of latitudes and longitudes fifty five degrees north and five degrees west, north but not so far north as Lapland and on the western fringes where the light defilement is minimal we find ourselves on the deck of our boat, it is night, it is dark, and there is a sharpening in the breeze.

 In a lonely marina far enough away from all other boats to feel happily desolate we are sitting on deck wrapped in the woolly quiet of the night. All time is thrown open above us in random light, the past the present and the future an unfolding event on the astral plains. We are the smallest speck on the particular meridian that holds us in time and space, we sit afloat bathed in the supernal illume, gazing through celestial parallels of latitude towards the most distant reaches of the universe, on and on through the constellations and milky ways to the furthest spans of life.
Bound to the world by magnetic force, our time is adrift, all our horizons fall in stars and splendou…