Tag Archives: Love

Best Laid Plans

Busy family life

Busy family life

Well both grandsons are off to school (Reuben’s first year, Oscar’s second), summer is drawing to a close and I’m all fired up ready to proceed with my Grand Plan – back to writing that novel again. Seriously!

Eight thirty in the morning I’m sitting at my desk, fingertips at the ready, but almost immediately the phone rings.
‘You’ll have to come to work’ – husband’s voice – ‘there’s a couple of things I need you to look at urgently’.
OK. So I jump into the car and drive straight to our business premises five minutes away.

All the problems are solved quickly but once at work I decide I might as well open the day’s post and sort through some invoices and then I remember I need to pop into town to get some food for dinner. And might as well drop off the ironing – after a houseful of visitors last week it’s all piled up and there’s this wonderful local business where the ladies are better than fairy godmothers.

Lunchtime already? I’m just settling down for a quick snack before starting work on my Grand Plan when the phone rings again.
‘Are you doing anything’ – daughter Sam’s voice – ‘only I need to pop to town for an appointment and Delilah’s asleep?’
No problem, Sam promises she will just be an hour – I grab my tablet, proving I’m trying hard to succeed with the Grand Plan and it makes me seem like an avant-garde gran.

Delilah wakes after less than half an hour. As soon as I pop my head around the door she takes my hand and leads me on a route march around her house, a guided tour, discharged in a language of her own making which she assumes I comprehend. As we enter the kitchen she waves a finger at the tap – time for a drink of water? Already, at one year old, her nature leaves me in no doubt she had a previous existence as a headmistress.

Sam arrives home. Relieved of duty I can shoot off home but as I leave she hands me a bag of freshly picked damsons surplus to requirements…if I don’t want them perhaps great-gran would?
It seems sensible to take the damsons straight to mum’s, it’s not very far, almost en route, and they’ll only go rotten if I take them home. Having had a spectacular harvest this year we’ve got piles of ripe fruit gently going rotten in assorted bowls and we can only eat so much jam and chutney and the freezer is full.

Dad’s mowing the lawn. As soon as I appear he stops work and leads me to the garage, a look of smug triumph on his face. Ever since my parents moved here two years ago the garage has been full to bursting with household goods and furniture deemed no longer useful. We suggested they give all the stuff they no longer want or need to charity shops but old furniture is bulky and unfashionable and even local auction houses aren’t interested in taking it. However dad has discovered a man with a van (a community charity) and he is coming to take everything away later today, so last chance if I want anything.

I’d been meaning to grab their emergency fridge –newer and smarter than the one we have at work and doesn’t need defrosting. And then there’s the brass coffee table – can’t let that go because I have its twin. But it’s hardly fair not to take them away immediately. Dad’s been waiting long enough to park his car inside the garage – it’s so untidy cluttering up the drive.
Husband isn’t too pleased but comes immediately. Another essential job done and dusted.

Now where was I? Better make the dinner…..best laid plans and all that. I’ll just have to start on my big plan tomorrow.



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Goodbye Tom

I didn’t sing at your funeral,

And I know how you loved to sing.

Did you choose those hymns?

They rang with your thoughts,

Reflected your hopes, your life.

And I sat in your chapel,

Surrounded by strangers and friends,

Who also came to say goodbye,  

Wanting to grieve without tears.


Goodbye Tom.


You never feared emotion,

And lived to love life.

You wouldn’tImage be embarrassed

By its ending.



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Stand and Wonder

It has been a week of rushing here and there, assaults on the necessary. Ordinary life sifted by a disrespect for my time, my precious time. I’d rather be writing than doing the washing, making beds or preparing meals but these things must be done. I’m a wife, a mother, a grandmother even, although I can’t believe I’ve lived long enough. And I love having visitors to stay, its just that house-work seeps my energy.

Dashing into Sainsbury’s to buy groceries on Saturday, all my worries and stresses biting at my heels, I found myself wishing I could wave a magic wand. It seemed every other shopper was my enemy. Until I reached the far end of the store, where the soft drinks aisle was empty except for a young man pushing his mother’s trolley while she selected the shopping. I think it was his smile that caught me first, men of his age are generally too self conscious to smile like that. And he kept smiling that beautiful smile as he responded to his mother’s instructions.  It took me several moments to realise he was completely blind. I felt small in comparison. I can’t conceive of the courage required to negotiate our crazy world in complete blindness but I recognize when love has no boundaries.

Life has a way of weaving a kind of magic which rarely comes as anticipated. I was reminded that the things we do out of love have more resonance than our small minds can comprehend. 

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