Woolleybeans

The First Steps and the Last

‘Come on, Mum, two more steps and you’re there. I’ve got you …’

Why was she raising her voice? I wasn’t deaf.

My mind wasn’t the disabled part of me. And what was the rush?

Hold your tongue, old lass. It’s all said through care, not to mention a familiar tone of worry that she might slip or let go.

It took me…[Read more]

You’re not actually the person I was referring to when I said I knew I was preaching to the converted. Quite often people reply to these Literary Byways blogs saying they’re going to read the book concerned on my recommendation, but this is the first time I’ve had feedback on that, and I’m delighted that you share my enthusiasm for Pavane.

As for…[Read more]

It was, and still is, a very good blog indeed. I remember it well, and on the strength of your recommendation I bought Pavane. It is a unique book, with an extraordinary atmosphere. Since reading it I’ve returned many times to check on parts and to reread. It really is remarkable that it isn’t better known. It’s somewhat depressing that a book so…[Read more]

Congratulations, Ath. Delightfully creative tale!
Thanks to Janette for the prompt and to Sandra, Libby and Terrie for a selection of wonderful stories x

When I say that I seriously didn’t think I’d win – I mean it. There was a fistful of really great entries. Thanks to Janette for the prompt and to my co-entrants for some great entertainment.

Ps, yes, thank you all for your brilliant entries, I meant to say- sorry if this didn’t come across in my summary.

Five great stories this month, making my decision oh-so difficult and changeable.

Sandra – Lyrical Determination (thin on legend)
Smartly-penned descriptives throughout, giving vivid imagery of Fran lying prose on the attic bed, having decided to give her virginity to Ivo (having been inspired by the words of John Martyn).  Love that she bathes…[Read more]

May

The cactus on the table, out there on the decking, it’s gone mad. Look there are four new paddle things growing off it. Mr Hoskins from next door says they’re called “cladodes”. He should know, seeing as he’s a botanist or something at the college. It’s a modified stem, apparently, which serves the function of a leaf. He came over for a cup o…[Read more]

Princes Street, Edinburgh, in early May. The morning is bright, the sky opaque with a promise of blue, and there’s enough chill in the air to warrant the cardigan I left on the back of the chair in the kitchen. I’m walking on the sunny side of the street – the side across from the gardens – with measured, purposeful steps as I head to a train…[Read more]

Congratulations, J! Well deserved ☺️

Thanks to Libby for challenging my poor sluggish brain cells with an extraordinary prompt, and to Sandra for an excellent read.

Heck, I did not expect that. Thank you for such an awesome feedback, Libby, and for a competition prompt which challenged my writerly boundaries. Also well done to Sea and Sandra for their excellent stories.
I have nothing in mind for the next topic – a walk is in order to mull it over, not that I need and excuse to set out in this wonderful sunshine.

Oh BOTHER! So sorry, Libby. I confess I found the prompt a little tricky, but I was getting the start of an idea. Then I got myself involved with something and forgot all about it.

Well done to all three entrants, especially Janette. I liked the stories very much.

<u>Parsnip Wine

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Our back-facing neighbours were the first to acknowledge our arrival. Each time I looked out, the ever-preened woman was at her bay window, dog-in-hand (at least I think the explosion of fur was of canine origin). Gerald supposed she were sun-worshipping, her glances only polite curiosity – then he always did see the good i…[Read more]