The Seasons

I wrote this a while ago, but it feels oddly appropriate for this time of year, when winter keeps telling us: ‘And another thing…’

If I make it through September, fold my pinnies, cool my forehead,

Don’t wait for gaps to be filled – there is no clemency

Left in any fibre.

If I make it through October, it won’t be for want of trying

To end the throb of left-side temple

Trapped flutter under the skin.

If November doesn’t bring morose companionship on wet flagstones

Where would my certainties drain?

They’d pool like ink on poor quality paper.

And if you can’t wait until December for my waxing sleight of mind

I waste my breath and months

Wondering why you never measure up.

Friday Fun: Reading Nooks in All Seasons

There are reading nooks for all seasons. Maybe you can fit four into your house… or here are some simple ways to tweak them to fit each time of the year.

The delicate shoots of spring can be admired from this bed, when you still feel lethargic after a long winter. From Bored Panda.
Watching the mountains turn green from your reading nook is lovely in Spring. From Michael Rex Architects.
Greek island views are much more suited to summer, from Bored Panda.
Of course, you could move outside into the garden. From Pinterest.
But the balcony offers a shadier alternative, especially for e-books. From Hunter Design.
As the nights turn cooler in autumn, it makes sense to move indoors. From She Knows.
Somewhere far away from prying eyes is perfect when school starts again in autumn, from Pinterest.
While in winter we have a hankering for wooden chalets, curtains, plaid and cosy lights. From BeDe Design.
From this viewpoint we will certainly not miss Santa when he brings us some new books. From Woo Home.

A Year’s Worth of Haikus

A light-hearted read for the weekend: haikus for every season, and a good excuse to upload some favourite pictures.


Perfect crunch on ice

Spiked boots and burning muscle

Welcome warmth of soup


Where are friendships now?

The chalet sighs for Christmas

Lights buried in snow


How much hope, what joy,

When stubborn hardy rootling

Gushes forth from sod!


Long before the fall

The camellia’s head hung low

Blushing memory


Scented white lilac –

However brief its glory

There is no contest


No cherries this year.

I wonder if this season

Will greet me again.


So much life and hope

Drinks and laughter lighten

On long summer days


Annual body roast.

Not a second on the beach

To savour salt air.


Back! Back! They twitter.

Settling nicely in the groove,

Keeping tan well creamed.


Demented squash shapes

Stretch out arms imploring, catch

Chill hush in the air.


So it closes in:

Each year a little harder

To bear the long-streaked rain.


Not naughty, not nice –

Can it be time already

To freeze our desires?