Little boy in red stands on the doorstep. Fresh-faced but unaware of what is ahead. Book-bag clutched in a clammy hand and full of nothing but potential. We have arrived at this moment. A milestone I have been crawling to for some time now. Some days I have crawled through mud and across glass to… Read More Acorn//19Sep2016
This song is for all mothers who know the feeling of having utterly reached the edge of themselves. Written when I was heavily pregnant with my third child; when I was struggling with the challenging behaviour of a feisty three year old and 18m old. The physical and mental exhaustion left me feeling pretty crushed… Read More The Edge of Myself//20Mar2017
If you were to open any of the large books in our house you are very likely to find a collection of old, pressed leaves and flowers squeezed between the pages. I have always had a thing about spotting that bright autumn leaf on the other side of the road and quickly gathering it up… Read More Pressed Leaves//06Oct2016
As the two ladies throw their blade-like glances across the cafe toward us, the fog descends. My cheeks no longer burn though – this is the norm. My head and heart feel different things. Head says to them, “either you clearly don’t have children or you have the insipid, boring type who have no real… Read More Lady of the Lowlands//22Oct2016
Looking down to belly expanding. Blooming, stretching, creating. Unstoppable forces push, push from inside. What has begun will be finished. I look. Touch. Dwell. Third time a house. Third time we stretch. Can we stretch enough? Or will the elastic reach its limit? A capacity unknown, full of trepidation and “shitting oneself”. Yet full of… Read More The Stretch//04Nov2015
