I’ve known I was a Cornish Pasty ever since I can remember. It’s a family thing, a bit silly, but consider that my parents’ audience (many years ago) was a delighted group of three small kids. We loved that my biggest brother was a Cockney Sparrer, and that my other brother and I were great … More Cornish pasty
I am happy to see the sun today, even though it blinds me as I peer down a village lane and find it staring straight back. Its watery light makes the road shimmer and turns all the edges black. Later, my face feels the sun’s warmth for a few precious moments when I happen to … More Welcome, Winter Solstice
Christmas is nigh. A snug-lit festival in winter’s darkest month: steaming mince pies and red-nosed jumpers, clove-warm mulled wine and pigs in blankets. It’s a brimful of hygge on the 25th. All wrapped up with family and friends (whether you like them or not). But for as many as 1.4 million people in the UK … More Brimful of Hygge
A pavement walk to a soulless gym on a cloud-hung day. Even the temperature is mediocre – it’s neither this nor that. Just okay. A conveyor belt of cars slides sedately by at this early hour. Some drivers bear that far-off, dreamy look so familiar to us all, suggesting that they are relieving the boredom of the road … More Soulless in Sevenoaks
Monday afternoon – mind heavy with worries and work. A glance up from my computer as I chew things over, and I see Shadow Flower playing with the light. She comes into focus and I throw off my thoughts. She draws me out to see the sun. Just a short and sweet spell, but it … More Shadow flower on a Monday afternoon
There’s nothing quite like a summer fruits PYO farm. Our local one is Stonepitts and we visit on a roasting hot summer’s afternoon. Nestled near the North Downs, we are in a pretty spot. I teach my son how to find the best berries where no-one else has bothered to look. We slow to a steady … More Slowing down at Stonepitts.
An old man stopped right by my husband and asked him a question. My husband was stretching post-run, in the way runners like to do, but trying to be discreet, in a little side lane. “Do you know what this used to be?” the old man asked, pointing to the building my husband was leaning … More Window history
Too cold for running in German as sleet stings my face. I skate across snow-packed surfaces smoothed by sledges. I skip over small mounds where grass strains through. I stumble when I sink in surprises of deep white. As gusts of wind constantly sear my cheeks. All I can do is yank my hat down and pull … More Snow run in English (it’s too cold for German)
Snow run number 2, featuring my favourite Treeo. And a welcome pitstop at Otto’s coffee house. Before the snowball fight begins. I love them, but when will they go back to school? Schneelauf Nummer 1 here.
I’m training for Berlin so I’m running in German. It’s a Schneelauf (snow run). I’m walking with my daughter so I’m talking in English. It’s a snow walk. I’m home warming up with a chocolate brownie bake-up. Good in any language.