Week 1
Coming out of Covid with Croquet!
The answer to all of life’s questions is croquet, of cause. Why hadn’t I realised this before? As the light shone in brighter days, the lawns beckoned.
In a field, not too far away accompanied by a cricket pitch, tennis courts and p’tonk places we gather, all dressed in white like pearls shining in angelic hope and with wood or metal mallets we stalk and pat, tap and crack our way through life’s 13 hoops. Not so lucky for some as only a few make it in the end … time permitting.
We congratulate each other on a game well played in an oasis of appreciation.
A new member is welcomed, but alas, she has squeaky sandals!
‘Oh dear!’ I giggle where upon L appears behind me, breaking social distance to whisper, ‘I think she’s farting’.
Well, if there was ever a comment to put me off my stroke as I attempted to claim hoop seven!
Unable to calm my fit of juvenile stupidity, by now every other player, 15 in all, stopped to judge.
I was unable to say, ‘she’s farting!’ like a silly sod that I am and I waited for their stern, quiet face to draw down my quivering lips.
‘I’ll be good again’ I say as we move to the next hoop with my barefooted partner.
‘Oh!’ tuts L. ‘Croquet Association Rules forbid you to play in bare feet’.
At this, my newcomer partner, picks up her mallet and farting sandals and strides away jabbing a pointed chin towards the exit.
We all had pimms later to celebrate; not because she left, but there again … she wasn’t wearing the right shoes.
Week 2
Passing By
On a windy Autumn path, light blurred through stone grey. Footsteps followed, one then the other in a rhythm of shallow breath. Stopping to look left and right, she takes a moment to notice fallen brown and the dankness of lingering death. The once tall and beautiful stands in diffused blue, slender and alone.
Listening! Listening!
Perceiving silence, the rhythm resumes. The byway, narrow, muddied by feet trodden in verge’s adventure, hides little things that use time to seed and grow unnoticed. Forward, forever forward, she pauses time to see, smell, touch from the safety of the sideline, never following … not for long!
Returning! Returning!
Death lingering long enough gives way to new air and a beam of sun stretches and stretches, seeking a smile. Her face, turning upwards, bathes in warm rays and the comfort of being seen. The eyes and mouth show a slow smile.
Stillness! Stillness!
A deep breath of calm breaks the panic of uncertainty. Tears flow in the stinging grip of fear as darkness falls. Worrying, her slow paces sense hidden danger and the scare of being lost in the night of day where kindness calls accompanied by the curl of a gnarled finger that pokes into dark affairs, scratching innocence and clawing sweet soft flesh.
Scurrying! Scurrying!
Strengthened by breath, air so pure and full, the way is shown. Shuffles become strides as the berm broadens. Breeze following, lifts a lightness of spirit bringing joy and for a moment a reel of happiness catches her turn of hope’s pure breath.
Dangering! Dangering!
Sensing beauty’s lure, danger creeps but with gathered courage the threat is shunned as hope is sucked deeper to a diaphragm of inner poise. Warm Summer rain quenches the dust of weariness and here she finds rest. On velvet green she picks ripened fruit with glossy cheeks biting into rosy flesh.
All is well. All is well.
All is well. Just passing-by, looking, gathering in the stillness, setting aside fears, knowing how to touch, what to take, what is hers and more importantly, what is not.
Passing by! Just passing by!
Week 3
To Do List
Make Thai red curry for tea
Beat L and I at croquet this summer - just once will do
Give Millie a hug and loads of reassurance
Ring mother - then have Millie give me a hug for loads of reassurance
Finish painting the roses and present as present
Write something truly amazing
Overcome all pain and loss and find space for contentment
Travel to Estonia through Norway and Sweden and return through Russia and Poland
Be more generous and hospitable by giving away Amazon lockdown collection
Drink more water so my pee runs clear
Be braver - build up courage to say no to people who intrude on experiences meant for me alone
Be stronger and remember to guard my heart for it is the wellspring of life
Breathe
Enjoy Thai red curry - one day in Thailand
Week 4
Scullery Stool
It was painted blue, a pale colour and made from pine and she sat on it at the back door legs angled outwards. Dipping in the middle was her piny. Holding aloft was grandad’s strangled chicken and nana with determined strength blew feathers from her nose as she stripped it with well used hands.
Showing her pink nylon bloomers gathered in elastic around her knees, her feet nestled in dark green slippers with fur collars and shuffled back and fro to the rhythm of the plucking as she twirled its wrinkled neck round and around.
The pouting punches of air also pushed away the woodbine ash that drooped from the right corner of her mouth and accasionally fell into the cleavage of her double d bosom. She would look at me with a smile of knowing that said, ‘roast chicken for dinner love’, and I would smile back enjoying the wait.
It’s mine now, the painted blue pine stool, faded like memories, gnarled with a loose leg, but what a strength it was to her and a thing of beauty to me.
Week 5
My name - (I don’t think I really understood this assignment!)
Shug none - Jah!
Week 6
Was that you?
‘Was that you?’ Val asked.
‘What?’ I replied. ‘Me what?’
‘Was it Millie?’ Her tone deepened.
‘I’ve no idea what you’re on about’.
‘Well it wasn’t me, and I’m drowning in eggy stink!’
I simply giggled in my clean air seeing Millie raise a knowing eyebrow from her cushion.