Hush.. tread softly.. lest you tread on my words

Miss C is writing so keep it down! Yes, that means you!Be careful where you put your feet. My words are all over the place. I am gathering them up into something coherent today.  

This story was not that funny at the time but in retrospect, which is our only real perspective in life anyway, it is kind of funny.  And yes, everyone survived. 

Now off you go about your busy-ness.  I am enjoying having a day of writing this for you. 

And hush. Mama is writing. Go talk to each other in the comments lounge.  I will be in on my break!

Did I tell you that my mother was an artist.   She painted in oils with her pallet knife. And she had six children. So  she bought a wooden play pen and put it in the lounge, then put herself  and her easel into  the playpen and worked in there.   Safe from the madding crowd.  Which also reminds me of something Daphne Du Maurier  (did I spell that right?) said to her children when she was trying to work.  I read all her books as a teenager.  She had rented an enormous house by the sea for the summer and on the way out to the writing shed in the garden she called to her  children – ” I don’t care what you do, but no goats in the beds! ”

Now.. sshh . walk past softly, close my door again..  you can pop in with a cup of tea now and then.. .. now go on .. hush.. I am writing.

celi

On this day last year.. a tiny glimpse in my kitchen. My kitchen is very small.