Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Be safe

My lovely man is deep inside a war zone and while I have faith that he is sensible and being taken care of by NATO, I wake up like this, each morning before 5am and see Twitter headlines that include words like "ambush" "kidnap" "Taliban" "suicide bomber." I cannot imagine what it would be like to be the spouse of a soldier, gone for months at a time in supremely volatile places, waiting and watching every day for news, or growing used to just not knowing. Sweet thing sends me pictures hastily taken on a military plane, in a flack jacket and helmet, or from the dusty streets, men in shalwar kameez walking in twos or threes, painted signs in the background, vintage cars in faded red and blue, a policeman, concrete, a lonely tree.

This worrying is entirely selfish, I know. Be safe.

Wednesday, October 08, 2014

chalk heart

It's me, the crickets and the blood moon eclipsing outside the open window at 2.45am.  I glimpsed the smell of England in the autumn earlier today, the leaf mold, the smokey first fires of damp wood, the mustiness of tweed coats hung in dark cupboards for a year. When I say glimpse, it was a memory triggered by something I can't remember. Sensory nostalgia, I suppose. They can't beat it out of you, that longing for what's in your bones, your marrow, the chalk and flint and clay. Only two weeks ago, walking through the wood in the Chilterns I walked so many times as a child, where the wood anemones grow, girded on both sides by blackberries, I looked down and saw the flints and the chalk, little outgrowths in the sparsely-grassed earth. There is always that urge to pick up the chalk, to hold it in your hand, rub off the green moss residue, and write on a tree with it. I always want to draw a large heart and write a name in it and then I realize I'm not 15 and such behaviour would be borderline vandalism. But then again, like throwing apple cores out of the car window, anything that will feed the squirrels or wash away in the rain has to be all right, don't you think?

Monday, October 06, 2014


It's seven o'clock in the evening in the canyon (the crickets tell me so) and I'm dog-tired. Gazonked. So tired that I must be getting sick. I'm going to crawl into bed at this old lady hour with some Gilmore Girls and sleep. I wonder what it is. I was supposed to go to yoga. I'm two weeks late on a proposal for a client. (Albeit a big and complicated one, it's eating me up inside. The research work is done but the writing of it is an impossible task).

And all is sweet and good in the world. Me & Mr England seem to be calm, pleasant, sweet, balanced, at one. Maybe it's the relief of wanting of something to work so badly for nearly a year and going through the almost bi-polar ups and downs of a long distance relationship (hideous for anyone, terrible for me) and finally now it's the calm after the storm. We found some common ground. I could cry with relief. I feel spent, battered, blistered and happy.

There is a very good tomato and pomegranate salad in the fridge, served at supper last night, a warm canyon evening with friends and pomegranates and green plums and the first of the gourds. It's Fall. And I'm gazonkered.

Dear God, help me sleep tonight and help me to wake up fresh and energetic and ready for what life brings. I want to do good work and feel grateful for what I have. (And my boy, my lovely lovely boy who is 24 comes home tomorrow for good after 6 years on the east coast, and that really is something to rejoice in).

I hope everyone is enjoying the beginning of October. What's happening in your world?

Much love,
a very tired, but quite happy,
Miss W xoxoxo

Thursday, October 02, 2014


Be present. Make love. Make tea. 
Avoid small talk. Embrace conversation. 
Buy a plant, water it. Make your bed. 
Make someone else's bed. Have a smart mouth, 
and quick wit. Run. Make art. Create. 
Swim in the ocean. Swim in the rain. 
Take chances. Ask questions. Make mistakes. 
Learn. Know your worth. Love fiercely. 
Forgive quickly. 
Let go of what doesn't make you happy. 

via @andreagillies & Paolo Coehlo

Tuesday, September 30, 2014

on being this age: a rant

be'jeezus! what is it that you need in a mate at this stage of your life, when you've had your babies, when your career is flourishing, when you know who you are, when you have good friends, solid friends, the sort of friends that show up for you. what is it exactly that you need from a mate? i think it's this: someone who's as in it as you are. what do i mean by that? i am so done running around after someone. i truly believe -- and this may sound arrogant -- that i'm worth it. hard not to sound like a l'oreal ad, but let's face it, i'm not high maintenance, or a princess, or need to be fed bonbons, but if i'm willing to put in the effort, i need to be with someone who's equally as psyched to be there too. so to be put in second place, to not be thought of, to be denigrated to an "ordinary" status is dull. my girlfriend says, don't react. lie on your bed and take it. let it run through you. don't react. and i say, i don't need that at this stage of my life, to be lying on a bed, gritting my teeth, trying not to react when i could be walking hand in hand with someone who loves me, smiling, looking at trees, breathing in the beauty. nah. it's not worth it. it's just not. you bend, you bend, you bend, you grit your teeth, you bend, you have a moment of bliss, you bend more, and soon you realize you're in a knot. you're not walking tall. you're pretzelled. nah. that's not okay. it's not okay. it doesn't matter how good the in between is or how lovely they are for short bursts, it doesn't matter one bit. walk with me. take my hand. be there. don't make me ask. don't put me in that situation. and whatever you do, don't me feel ordinary. i'm really not prepared to be ordinary. not yet, anyway. i don't want to be hidden. i want to be paraded around like i'm someone to be proud of. i want to go get matching tattoos of peacock's feather, like my friend C did, in Paris, last week. and a year ago i would've said, what? and now I get it. tattoos. mad. ridiculous. painful. and brilliant. walk with me. be my love. don't make me feel ordinary.  capisce? it's not that difficult. love me. treat me well. be kind. that's all.

“Perhaps the feelings that we experience when we are in love represent a normal state. Being in love shows a person who he should be.” -- Anton Chekhov

Saturday, September 27, 2014

you must learn her

“You must learn her.

You must know the reason why she is silent. You must trace her weakest spots. You must write to her. You must remind her that you are there. You must know how long it takes for her to give up. You must be there to hold her when she is about to.

You must love her because many have tried and failed. And she wants to know that she is worthy to be loved, that she is worthy to be kept.

And, this is how you keep her.”
Junot Díaz, This Is How You Lose Her 
h/t @kathdikora on Instagram