Being A Mum . Frasier and Niles . Love . The General
Mother’s Day
On May 21, 2017 by Speranza
A week has passed since Mother’s Day but I still wanted to blog about it because there are very few perfect days in life and this was one of them. It’s strange too because it was free of most of the things I have enjoyed in previous years, such as breakfast in bed and lacy, velvety cards with the sort of tender doggerel that can swiftly lead to a sad afternoon on the couch contemplating one’s own mortality if you’re not careful.
But there was none of that.
Gay Husbands . Getting Older . Grey Divorce . The General
Grey Divorce
On January 29, 2017 by Speranza
The General and I were having our usual Sunday morning coffee discussion group today (only 2 people permitted, dressing gowns required) and listening to a superb documentary about “grey divorce” which caused us to sit exchanging (sometimes worried glances) as women discussed either having to leave their partners of many decades or being left themselves, each terrifying for different reasons. Of course, for the person who leaves, that ‘terror’ is often closer to excitement: the beginning of something new and a totally fresh start sponged clean of predictability, routine and the other assorted shackles of family life.
Cleaning . The General
Winged Messengers
On October 27, 2016 by Speranza
The last few days I have been noticing that I have a few tiny, tiny holes all in a row on some of my clothes; the pure cotton ones that I really like.
This has not pleased me.
At first, I thought the material might just have caught on a zipper or torn without me realizing, (yes, this is the kind of ridiculous self-talk that can happen when one really, really wants to keep watching The Durrells in Corfu snuggled up with The General, rather than skivvying out a clearly infested closet;) but finally, yesterday when, alas, I noticed that my prized Ann Taylor white shirt had been damaged, (rather like a tiny skater had been in winter training) I knew that I had to do the google search to see which particular plague was now upon me.
Sadly, I have since learned that this is most likely the handiwork of the common clothes-moth (not to be confused with his much uglier, foodie counterpart with whom I am very familiar with (I’m looking at you, bulk-store walnuts!) nor the dreaded carpet beetle fellows (who masquerade as fat grains of rice till the gig is up) that I did battle with a few years ago, after losing several corners of my pure wool area rugs to their gluttony. These tiny villains were eating carpet rows like corn on the cob, the wee bastards, and I had to freeze the rugs outside over the winter to get rid of them …
And, afore ye judge, let it be known that I am a devotee to the Dyson vacuum, and vacuum regularly so all this seems most unfair, puzzling and not a little unsettling.
Gardening . Nature . The General
Room for Wrent
On August 6, 2016 by Speranza
I bought a bright red petunia in a hanging basket earlier this summer and noticed recently that a tiny nest had appeared in between the blooms – it looked just like an upturned half coconut.
Shortly before making this exciting (to me) discovery, I had already heard a feisty, stripey little bird singing his heart out every morning (and throughout the day) in three distinct places; the highest peak of the garage, the fence, and just beside this plant. I consider myself a bird enthusiast only so I had to look at him very closely and do a bit of googling to identify him as a Marsh or more likely, House Wren.
Poetry . The General . Travel . Writers
Journal of a Solitude
On July 31, 2016 by Speranza
I have no real sense of direction.
Those who love me and know me well accept this and are not surprised by it anymore; but when we set out for Old Orchard on our car trip this year, I hesitantly pored over the map and asked gingerly (in case I was ludicrously off the mark) to inquire if we might go via Nelson, New Hampshire so that I could visit the grave of poet, author and journal-writer May Sarton. The General assessed the map quickly, drawing a finger along the route, turning it a few times, finally pronouncing the idea “not even a problem” and went on to suggest that we pop along to Robert Frost’s graveside as well since it was on the way.
(Can I tell you that I absolutely love not having to justify what most people would consider a totally insane waste of time and my heart just swelled).
He added: “Graveyards on the way down! We really are a fun couple aren’t we?”