Shaken, But Stirring

Ma’s eyes lock with the butcher’s. It’s a match made in Hell, the meeting of two naughty minds. Ma’s obviously feeling chirpy again, after our accident, and is ready for some serious flirting. Our butcher, a fine figure of a man with a wicked glint in his eye, is more than up to the challenge. Neither of them wants to be the first to look away. As the conversation grows ever more risqué, I’m the only one blushing. They’re still at it as I grab our purchases and drag Ma out the door.

Whilst Ma’s on the mend, Tom and I are still feeling pretty shaken. Tom’s been a tad on the snappy side (you know it’s true!) whilst I seem to have lost a few layers of skin and see danger lurking round every corner. The stupidest thing reduces me to tears. Whilst hacking away at some overgrown clematis at the end of the garden (must be feeling unlike myself to be gardening) I uncover a tiny nest, beautifully lined with moss and downy feathers. Inside are four perfect, dazzling blue eggs and I am horrified to have exposed them to the elements. Even when I gently touch them and find them long cold, I can’t shake off the feeling that it’s my fault that they’ll never hatch.

So, instead of floating about being swept around by the currents, I try to regain control of my life. Running helps, a constant, mesmeric rhythm that lifts me to a place beyond worry. Writing, because I’m a much happier person when I’m putting words together. And, hey, I’ve even got round to sending stuff out, including entering the Mslexia poetry competition (but with no foetus, scrotum, penis or slaughtered pig in my entire 22 lines, I’m not hopeful).

And finally, some lighter news...
Last Friday, I visited the lovely Helena Earnshaw at Honno to collect my prize for the Coming of Age One Sentence Competition. Helena made me feel very welcome, said lovely things about me, and put me at ease so that I could be photographed collecting my prize without frightening everyone. I now have a year’s supply of Honno’s very fine books (they always look so beautiful, apart from anything else) which is a real treat. Thanks, Helena, for providing an oasis of calm in a rather fraught week.

And, last night, I had a phone call from my darling Rose. She has just received her invitation to the formal ceremony at St James’s Palace to collect her Duke of Edinburgh Gold Award and she has asked me to be her guest. Aw! Since I am Mrs Boo-baby at the moment this called for a few more tears. Guess who’s going to be bursting with pridiosity at the beginning of June? My only slight worry is that I now have to find something to wear so as not to let the side down. I currently own one Funeral Frock and a lot of jeans and tee shirts. I’d say, someone call Gok, but I don’t think this is an occasion to bring out the ‘bangers’ (perish the thought). Ah well, at least it seems to have taken my mind off motorway accidents.

Painting is 'Winter Seascape, Dusk' by Tom Tomos