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elderflower blossom | edge of evening

Gone camping

It sometimes seems to me an enormous act of hubris, the planning we do for the coming year in those short December days after Christmas. But plan we do. Sitting on either end of the sofa, sipping coffee. Alone with a notebook. We talk of holidays and milestones; dreams and desires; the simple things that we would like more or less of in the months to come. They’re not usually grand plans. Some new meals in the rotation; early nights in January; a plan to spend more evenings reading or playing the guitar. Yet, still, I wonder if the Gods are watching. The small but persistant thought: just let us all still be here this time next year. That is the baseline, the everything, the true extent of my ambition. This year, we did make bigger plans. Shifts in the balance of our days; a move towards a more equal share in the work of home and the work of the world. And then we backed away from those plans, postponing but not abandoning, in favour of …

Snowflake | edge of evening


Just a quick hello from these days in between. I love them, stripped of expectation & obligation as they are. We’ve been embracing muddy walks, long hours in the kitchen and playing new games (Rat-a-Tat Cat has won all our hearts). Then there comes a point in the afternoon — around 3 — when it’s already starting to grow darker & we close the blinds and put on a movie. We watched Short Circuit the other day & I realised that it was probably twenty-five years since I last saw it. The boys giggled like crazy & the Pip-Pop keeps asking to watch the robot film again. Today it’s The Minions & I can hear the laughter from below. I want to watch, but I want to read more. So usually I sneak upstairs & settle down with a book. And here I am: the sound of wind & rain against the windows, my coffee already growing cold & Anna Karenina waiting for me on the bed. I hope that your between-days are just as cosy.