I have been constructing a new website that I can change quickly and keep up to date.

Have a look and see what you think?

Remember, I’m still learning how to use the computer. In fact I’ve enrolled on a programme to teach me what I don’t know. That’s a lot!



Being political

Someone, somewhere is in trouble, as I understand it, for saying women prefer to be creative and happy in their work rather than striving for the top jobs.

This seems to have caused agitation among the political correct who insist everyone should be treated the same. Gosh, if I’m not tired of trying to insist that we are all different and I wish the chap well for telling the truth. Mind you, some men feel like that, too. When are we ever going to celebrate difference and allow us to complement each other instead of competing!

Personal poem

Past Times

The clerk and the dairymaid went to live in a terrace in grim Southall town

They had little money, but lived with his Mummy, two girls and a terrier, brown.

The garden was long, with a small wooden shed and a lilac tree I liked to climb

A thin, scruffy lawn and a vegetable patch and a top bunk I wanted as mine.

My sister was younger and timid, back then. I told her such stories for fun

About pirates and dragons and things that go bump in the night, although there were none.

The tales Father read were of Winnie the Pooh, Just So Stories, poems and more

Like The Tree that Sat Down and The Stream that Stood Still -with magic and witches galore.

Our Junior School was in Beaconsfield Road with the gasometer for a view

And a playground for girls and another for boys, something that, now, wouldn’t do!

And yet all that dreaming, the stories and games, the dressing up we did for fun

Left me a legacy I wouldn’t change – made the child the adult I’ve become.





One short story and one poem written this week. That’s enough in this heat. I eventually managed to get the photo of the convululus from my phone to the laptop, via my email.

I don’t know if that is the only way to do it, but it worked. Sorry they aren’t in the same post. I have also been writing book reviews for Amazon and Goodreads.I may not be writing much but I am reading.

Flower poem

I wrote a poem and took a picture on my phone but it doesn’t seem to have found its way to my computer.


I looked for you in a book of flowers

Your large petticoat-white blooms

Should merit a mention

I thought.

But all I found was a cousin

A neat shrub, not a climber.

Nowhere did it show

Your choking tendrils.

Your ‘Granny-jump -out -of- bed’ flowers

Were mocking me from the top of the wall.

I hope the shrubs you strangle

Will survive.

If I try to pull you won’t untangle

And I break branches of the plants that I admire.

I must twist your snake-like threads

From the lilac.

I can unwind them from the buddlia, in full bloom.

I can chop you at the root and see you shrivel

Making the green privet brown

And scruffy.

But next year you’ll be back, I know

With your sly companion Ivy – just to make

Gardening an effort rather than a pleasure

As I fill the bin.





Jazz and a meal

Not feeling poetic but had a lovely evening at the Woodman Arms with the Featherstone Jazzband. The food is always good and we are always sad when the music stops and we have to go home. Due to roadworks we ventured down Titnore Lane to get back.. They are putting new lights on the A27.

Now I need to check on the writing I am supposed to be doing for our workshop. August looks so empty with meetings cancelled. I’m trying to review the books I am reading and am hoping to get a few for A Lesson for the Teacher. There will soon be a copy in the local library.

The WI meeting was interesting. I keep meeting folk who have come to the coast from Middlesex. I suppose Worthing was the nearest seaside.