We are suspended between disappearances. It is not black over Bill’s mother, she has simply disappeared, together with the Lammermuir and the Cheviot, all quietly erased by smirr. The wet hangs, bone-chilling, in the air. Drainage ditches are lipping with weak tea and the water table has escaped, with glassy sheets covering fanned out buttercupsContinue reading “Crewel weather”
Tag Archives: crewelwork
Rain did not stop play
It has been exceeding vile abroad. Lyra and I have bravely ventured forth every day, but it has not been delightful. The back lane is awash with puddles and the ditches are running lipping full with cold milky tea. By the end of our daily perambulation my finger ends are numb and Lyra is aContinue reading “Rain did not stop play”