22/52

“A portrait of my youngest children, once a week, every week, in 2015” Poet: She’s been by my side for most of the week; cooking, painting, helping me load the new washing [...]

pocket money

Seven is such a pivotal age, perhaps even more so when a new baby arrives. The leap into the next stage of childhood is profound and because Che is our firstborn it’s all new for us, too. [...]

21/52

“A portrait of my youngest children, once a week, every week, in 2015.” Poet: my beautiful girl…she’s been painting and drawing constantly; at the table, on the floor, [...]

sick days

roses that grow along the fence…necessary pretty on dreary sick days You know you’re alive when you spend the night to-ing and fro-ing between breastfeeding the baby and tending to [...]

20/52

“A portrait of my youngest children, once a week, every week, in 2015.” Poet: childhood in suburbia…and a black eye as a result of chasing her big brother through a maze of [...]

19/52

“A portrait of my youngest children, once a week, every week, in 2015.” Poet: dancing at every opportunity.    Percy: I think he really suits his name   The Tao of Motherhood by [...]

welcoming autumn

I realise that by the calendar we are only weeks away from winter but as far as the temperature goes, autumn has only just tickled our toes. Said tootsies are now snug in slippers; lambskin [...]

18/52

“A portrait of my youngest children, once a week, every week, in 2015.” Poet: I always want to remember her pigtail buns, denim dungarees and her excessive use of pink hair clips.   [...]