• Childhood,  Family

    Sailing Sundays

    Every Sunday afternoon, as a young boy, Father would take me out to the hills where we would set our boats to sail on the lake. It was the only time we were alone together. We never spoke much, and when we did, it was like talking to a stranger. When he won, he gave a solid nod of his head. When I won, he gave me a firm pat on the back. I remember a warmth spreading through my bones, particularly wonderful in the height of winter when the wind blew so fierce, all I wanted to do was cling tight to Father. We never did much hugging in…

  • Family

    One Little Woodland Walk

    That’s just great. Milk spurting everywhere. Rain dripping down my face. It has to rain just as soon as I put him to my breast. Great. Now Noah is screeching at the top of his tiny lungs. How does he even make that much noise? Oh, great. Humans coming. My right boob is hanging out. For all the world to see! There’s a deep voice, definitely a man. Quick. Hide the breast. ‘Shhh, Noah, shh, come on.’ I sniff. Of course, because it’s hay fever season, my nose is also running like Niagara Falls. Jolly walks. Why did I think we could go for one little woodland walk on a…

  • Family,  Romance

    Patchwork Quilt

    Each field looked different, unique with its shape, colour, pattern, and like a carefully crafted patchwork quilt, every piece slotting together to form a united picture. The deep green hedgerows working alongside the pale fields, the soft lines interweaving with the rough, imperfect patches. The sky above us was warm, a shelter to rest under. Alice hadn’t moved her eyes off the quilt for some time. Nor had I. What was she thinking? Once upon a time, I might have known. Now, it was like deciphering the enigma code. Sometimes, I wondered why we got married at all. We had managed to stay together for ten years. Could we stay…