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Showing posts from November, 2012

Apple Butter... oh oh, I feel an analogy coming on

I should know better.
I'm the one who nipped Tony's analogy-making in the bud when the phrase, 'If I could just make an analogy...', was becoming an unconscious habit rather than an occasional interruption. I'm not against analogies per se. I just don't want to be force fed one in every conversation. But here I am about to serve one up in a jar for you. I think we've done our last picking in the apple orchard. What remained on the trees of the Golden Delicious and the Cox have long dropped. Pecked by pheasants and drenched in rain they have slowly dissolved into the earth around the trees. The Ida Reds are hardier and most of them are still on the bare branches, a remarkable sight last weekend: red apples in bright winter sunshine against a blue sky. We won't manage to pick them all though: we invested in 300 bottles and have chopped, crushed and juiced enough apples to fill 220. The latest picking has yielded enough for the remaining 80. We've worke…

Out to impress

I was 26 when I met Tony, back in 1985, and had always lived on my own until then. The idea of shopping for a family and planning meals for days ahead was an alien concept. On our first trip to Safeway together, as I pushed the trolley from aisle to aisle hoping for inspiration and he lagged behind, he said, 'So what are you doing, just picking up bits and pieces, shopping for the week? Or what?' 'I don't know!' But having you drifting around my heels like tumbleweed isn't helping, okay? I didn't articulate that last sentence. I'd only moved in with him a week earlier and before that we'd spent nine days in total together. This was a learning process for both of us. I think it's natural to want to impress new loves in our lives: we want to show them (consciously or unconsciously) that we are their best choice, we want to make them happy, we want them to admire us, not be disappointed. I remember making two and three course meals with wine every n…

How to disappoint a hungry writer...

I guess the lesson is: Don't believe everything you read. Nothing remotely edible at the old Penrhyn Gate to the Steelworks in Port Talbot. But I bet they did a great bacon bap in their day.

Luckily 12 Cafe in Taibach came to the rescue with Cheese and Potato Pie. The next day Tambini's in Margam fed me a Ron Evan's Mince and Onion Pie and a Custard Slice.

There are stories everywhere I look: this writing under the bridge, the old ruined chapel on Mynydd Margam, and this gravestone in the Holy Cross graveyard in Taibach:


Lost at sea: a phrase that conjures stories, real and imagined, language powerful enough to transport us to the storm-wrapped deck of a ship, the hollow left in a woman's life. Powerful enough to be grateful for the nearness of our own family.

Hungry Writing Prompts
Write about a lie.
Write about a wall.
Write a list of the last 10 things you ate.
Write about standing at a graveside.
Write about what's close to you.