My Grandma died last autumn, before all this. It’s strange how we can say that, isn’t it? Before All This. Everyone knows what we’re talking about…
So, before all this, my Grandma died. I inherited her hairdryer, for the simple reason that I didn’t own one. (Yes, I know – super low-maintenance in the hair department! A great trait During All This.)
The hairdryer has been sitting on the carpet, unused, by my ‘work area’ for…umm…yeah…too long. I used Mum’s instead, while Grandma’s – I mean, mine – collected dust – literal and metaphorical – because I couldn’t bring myself to touch it.
I’ve tried not to Continue reading
I went to the care home and had a chat with a lovely carer. She works hard, is kind to everyone, and always has a smile on her face.
She had brought in two puddings for my great aunt to choose between. One was a trifle in a tall sundae glass; the other a piece of Victoria sponge in a bowl, swimming in cream. My great aunt chose the Victoria sponge.
I smiled at the lady, who has a foreign accent, and said, ‘It’s lovely weather today – feels like spring!’
She hesitated Continue reading
On January 23rd, 20-year-old Adam went for a hike along the coastal path towards Clarach. He didn’t return. He was found a few days later by the RNLI, but despite their best efforts, he passed away.
I cried when my brother Jonny phoned to tell me the news about his housemate. I cried along with Mum when we had a video chat to talk about it. I cried on and off for the rest of the evening. I cried as I did the Bible reading in chapel the following morning. And I cried as I came across One More Light by Linkin Park, a song about losing a loved one.
Grief often seems to come with a Continue reading
I’m sitting on the carpet, cleaning ornaments. I would say ‘dusting’ ornaments, but as some of these have been sitting out for many years, ‘dusting’ doesn’t seem to go far enough.
I underestimated the emotional difficulty of sorting Great Aunt’s things. I imagined being quite impartial, not having known her that well, or having spent much time with her. I remember her from when I was young and finding her a little bit austere, but now…
I know her as the lady who had to Continue reading
My younger brother and I had a video chat last night. Jonathan was struggling to decide what to include in his art portfolio and to explain the emotions involved in the paintings; he expresses his feelings through images rather than words (an artist, duh!).
Enter Hannah the Writer.
After a long discussion, he showed me the pictures, and I realised what it was that he was trying to convey. It reminded me of part of my recent short story, ‘The Seven Ages of Lone’, and one line in particular. I read it to him.
He looked a little Continue reading
‘If you don’t understand something, then tell me,’ Dad said. ‘Provided it’s genuine, there’s no such thing as a silly question.’
I was thirteen years old. Mum, my brothers, and I were at our first ‘lesson’. We sat in Dad’s living room with shiny GSCE Biology textbooks spread across our laps. His introduction to proceedings was carefully planned.
‘Nothing’s taught if nothing’s learnt.’
Up until then, it was always Continue reading
Our relationship with Mum cannot be defined by a single special moment. It’s constant ‘little things’ which add up to something bigger, as I reflected a few weeks ago.
I’d had a horrible Crossfit session. The workout itself was fine, but people’s shouts of encouragement and the loud music had driven me into mental overload. I ran out of the room a minute before the end.
When I arrived home, I was in tears, frustrated with the situation and my hypersensitive nature. Mum gave me a hug. She pointed into the kitchen, where Continue reading
At this time two years ago, I started my blog. I had been thinking about it for a while, waiting for the ‘right’ time, and it basically came down to just do it. I’m so glad I did!
I started off not having a clue what I would write about, but I optimistically aimed to post twice a week. It quickly changed to once a week. Pretty soon, I struggled to do even that and went for the whole of June without posting anything. Still, I finished 2016 with forty blog posts, covering a variety of subjects.
I started 2017 knowing it would be a busy year. I didn’t want to make any goals for my blog schedule that would inevitably lead to failure. Instead, I decided to only post every two weeks. If I had the time or inclination to write more than that, then I would post them anyway, or hold them back for another time.
I surprised myself Continue reading
Aunty and I sat in a café area at Paddington station, sipping deliciously-milky lattes, with our bags safely tucked under the table.
‘Do you love to watch people?’ she asked, peering over my shoulder. I knew I’d chosen the wrong side of the table.
It seems we have far more in common than a big nose. ‘Yes! It’s the best thing ever.’
‘Some extremely glam people here…’
I smoothed down my dress and flicked a stray lock of hair (well, one of them) behind my ear. ‘Love that about cities; such a mix.’
We were soon walking down Platform 10 and boarding the next train, with its almost deserted carriages and much bigger seats than the previous ones – they made me feel as if I’d shrunk in the wash!
As we passed Exeter, our eyes were drawn away from our books to the Continue reading
Aunty and I are on the train to London Euston. First Class; a first for me! We have already raided our goody bags and I’ve managed to consume the heavy brioche muffin (or whatever it was).
I have a slightly nervous stomach, or perhaps that’s because I’ve already written my journal on the rocking train, and I’m excited. It’s as if I’m heading home.
I wonder how I feel this way when I’ve never lived in Cornwall and probably never will; I haven’t even visited for sixteen years. Yet here I am, on my way to St Ives, home of the Continue reading