After The Flood.

Christmas Day 2015 was the best. Ever. Then it was Boxing Day.



1 // The water creeping up the garden. You can see the River Foss just over the fence. It’s never breached the back fence before. Not while we have lived here at least.

2 // Preparing for the worst – thinking it might end up being a bit of a faff seeing as we’d have to come and put it all back the next day.

3 // View from across “the river”. The bottom of our from door is 4 steps up from the level of the road itself. We had only remarked a couple of days before Christmas “if we flood the whole of York will be under”

4 // After the flood. Filth everywhere.

I’m surprised I haven’t cried more at this point. It’s not really the things that need replacing as much as the inconvenience of it all that bothers me the most. I got upset about the thought of the original fireplace and surround which will have to go, because I felt sad for the house, and all the people who had lived here before us. I felt sad about it being the two rooms that we had put so much of ourselves into creating – the lounge and the kitchen. The builder friend of ours who had built it and done such an impeccable job of every last detail. I was sorry for his ruined craftsmanship. The emotional impact of the constant lists whirring around inside my mind. Things not to forget to do. Trying to keep things on an even keel for the girl child. Sleeping in a different bed, waking throughout the night. Strange dreams, the by-product of unsettled times.

And yet, life continues. We deal with the insurers, and builders and whoever else we need to deal with. Taking it day by day.

We are lucky we have somewhere safe and dry to stay.

We are lucky that the efforts of yorks voluntary army have been so strong (particular gratitude to the men and women serving hot food and tea in our neighbourhood).

We are lucky that we have our families and friends to lean on. The offers of help and good wishes are countless.

We are lucky we managed to save most of our possessions. And also amazed at how much stuff we don’t really care about 😉

We are lucky we had the money to pay our insurance premiums.

We are lucky we have a 3 year old to make us laugh on a daily basis.



Finding ourselves in tune

I seem to have spent a lot of time this year well, navel gazing really. For some this may seem indulgent or egotistical, but, it’s just where I am, mentally. I won’t apologise for it. It is what it is. I have often felt out of place, out of sync, out of myself. Unsure about what my purpose is. Not ‘in the world’ but simply ‘in my family’ or ‘in my community’. Where am I? What am I? Who the hell cares? Existential angst if you will. Yes. I am a child of the seventies who came of age in the nineties. Classic Generation X problems.

Thank heavens for my daughter. Even when she drives me up the wall, she grounds me. Today, we were perfectly in sync with each other. I dropped her off at playgroup – she always asks if I am staying today, but never a fuss when I leave, just a happy ‘see you later!’. We both need this time apart and when I return, it is with much happiness, as she shares her artwork and tells me what snack she’s eaten. So this was no different to usual, but afterwards, lunch, cosy cartoon cuddles on the sofa (ahem, slight snooze might have been had), crafting, doing something quietly with our hands, more lazy cuddles as she sat on my knee scoffing malted milk biscuits and drinking milk. Milky biscuity cuddles as we sat curled together in the chair that I nursed her in. I alternately rested my head back in the chair and closed my eyes, and let it rest forward on hers, inhaling her sweaty curls, like puppy dog ears. All day was like this. Our energies seemed to ebb and flow at the same times. We rode those waves together. All was harmonious from the calmness of holding each other quietly, to the energetic delights of dizzy-dancing together in the kitchen. 

It felt like a gift. 


The garden is damp. The plants have flopped over, or been battered down by the rain. The earth has tilted, so light becomes scarce. There is a 4ft sq of light that spans the edge of the garden and the hedge, and it creeps silently along that one edge of the garden from morning until mid afternoon, when all light is gone completely. I don’t love my garden in Autumn, it has to be said. The grass never dries out, the dew sits on the branches all day, quietly dripping onto the humus below. There are glimpses of joy – fat garden spiders hanging out in their copious webs, the leaves on the potted blueberry, which turn all the colours of autumn. The magenta stars of the asters, and the small blue flowers of the borage that has self seeded itself in the bath. The bath, which I planted earlier in summer to be a sensory seat – chamomile, lavender, thyme – is gushing forth, still. And the birds visiting the fat balls and peanuts we put out together. They peek their little heads out gof the hedge first to see if the coast is clear, then out they flutter for a nibble or a drink.

Generally though, I have to go a bit further afield than my garden in order to enjoy the splendour of the season, and so far I haven’t. I’m not sure why exactly. Mister and the girl child have – but I’ve opted to stay home and nest. To be alone, pottering, listening to podcasts, gathering my thoughts. It feels right somehow.

On a bright day, I have sat on the bench outside the back door, with steaming tea, breathing in the wet air, and I like that. When the heating comes on, and we must enshroud ourselves in restrictive layers and coats, those damp micro-droplets in the air feel so thirst quenching to my skin and my lungs. Maybe I will take off my shoes and socks and spread my toes out in the wet grass. Yes, I should do that.

In the meantime, here are some photo’s. Fat berries and luscious light *sighs*







Did you see the little hairs on the Borage? In my lightless garden… Hmmm – insert meaningful Pinteresty quote here _____ (or below…?)

Bye for now – hopefully I will not leave it as long between posts this time!


Happy Things #5

I haven’t written much lately or taken many photos. I guess I am trying to be more in the moment and using any spare time to read, stretch, potter. I’m doing what feels good to me, and it’s thrown up some more happy moments… Hurray! 

1 // Girl Childs first trip to the dentist – she was awesome. Hopped straight up into the chair, chatted away with the dentist and didn’t even flinch when he examined her teeth! So proud!

2 // Might sound weird, but sharing my post about my low mood last week. It opened a door for me and I started to reach out a bit more. I’ve felt more positive and more hopeful since that day.

3 // The following words: “Whats this for?” *indicates garden wire* “Just thought it would come in handy for little garden jobs. Why?” “I might make a selfie helmet.” *Cue lots of running up and down stairs and then out of the front door* Maybe you had to be there but it tickled me all evening. It was a bit of a Tom and Barbara moment! 

4 // Being sociable and having our friends round for a curry night. Remember the times when you used to hang around with your mates talking all kinds of crap, dreaming, laughing? Well, we set the world to rights and we now know what that dangly thing at the back of your mouth is for. It’s called an uvula and it stops food going into your nose. Nice, eh? 

Have a lovely weekend folks! X


Good Things // January

So, January. While I love the promise of a whole new, fresh clean sheet when the new year opens it’s gleaming gates, the days seem to gradually give way to the reality of dark, cold, wet days.
All is not lost. Here now, is a pictorial representation of some good things that this month has given me. Yay!







Snowdrops // enjoying (for real) eating WELL healthy // visiting the seaside on New Year’s Day // visit to the national railway museum // cheeky fella // frosty things.

P.S. I missed this. I was feeling well cross when I started writing this but now I’m chill.

P.P.S. I don’t know what I’ve done to make the photo’s come out all big n that. Soz-balls.