Mama the policeman will have something to say about that. 
Every photograph, though taken on the same day, has slightly different light and is viewed differently by each reader. This is why every writer has something viable to say. 
Some might say: Mama you are looking fat. Others might think she is looking a little bit pregnant, an oxymoron – to be a ‘little bit’ pregnant
My mother, who was not fat, always wore red lipstick and heels every time she went out, even if it was just to the shops. In fact, towards the end, one of her good friends said to me that she could tell Mary was really sick because she had stopped wearing lipstick. Mum wore perfume sprayed from a crystal decanter that she kept on her low oak dressing table. She once laughed about an actress who would spray a mist of bright perfume into the air ahead of her and then step into it allowing the scents to envelop and drift down onto her person at will. My mother did not like to be too heavily scented you see. So she would spray just a little behind her ears, into her soft curls and the aroma of my mother, combined with the drifts of sea spray from just beyond the front gate, would linger there for hours. When she got home and said goodnight with a hug, and her hugs were always quick and to the point – her lipstick still firmly in place, we could smell that mingle of scents in her throat.
nrHatch has thrown down a very gentle challenge. She is hosting a writing competition. The prize is the book A Writers Desk. But more importantly she asks us to write a little about our desk and our writing methods to enter the competition. This is what I was thinking about as I followed the footsteps of a light coyote with a heavy left back paw around the boundary of the farmy. Now, here is my entry for the competition.
Thing One approves of course. 
For me – writing is a little like that long forgotton actress’s footsteps as she moves into droplets of perfume scented air. I hear her light step as I spray the mist of another world into the air before me and then I walk straight in, and I am gone there. The scents and stories settle around me and cling to my skin. The characters lurk about the desk, sitting on old books and sniffing at empty, long stemmed glasses. I sit at our desk for a while. Then I write.
Chomping on consonants and sipping at vowels I was, as I walked the boundaries in the biting cold. 
Then the light changed.
Good morning. Thank you for yesterdays comments, I have ordered my long silk drawers and have even ordered a pair for John. When I present them to him I am going to call them Tights, just to see the look of horror on his face! Why are they called Long Johns anyway. I guess Johns being underwear, but why are undies called Johns?
Have a lovely, lovely day.
celi
The Kitchen's Garden 
83 responses to “The Mists of Writing while Walking the Boundaries.”
What lovely memories to share about your dear mum. Very nice connection to the writing process, too. We do get our inspirations from so many different and sometimes really wonderful memories. I hope the long johns will be very helpful! The daily view makes me a little chilly just looking at it! 🙂
Beautiful!! Oh how I’ve missed you Miss C! 🙂
Oh and your new house looks wonderful!! glad to see you back.. c
Of all our senses the one that invokes the strongest recall of memories is the sense of smell. Your description of a writing desk is really quite wonderful, and absolutely to the point. Writers do spray a mist than walk into another world. Celia you say it so beautifully. V.
Thank you Virginia and good morning!!! c
Such a pleasure it is to read your words and see your views. Good day, C!
Lovely images. Lovely words. Lovely images in words. 🙂
My what a portrait you have painted…
Beautiful!
Good evening, c. Beautifully written post. I will forever remember it whenever I spray perfume or find my way through a veil of words.
It helps to sit and think doesn’t it, so often we forget to just take a step in and wait.. morning misky! c
And a fine good morning to you, c.
superb piece on writing; post fabulous as always
Superb piece on writing, and your usual fabulous pictures and comments – adored it.
thank you gnat!! c
I miss my Momma too. She also wore red lipstick and just dabbed her perfume on pulse points. Sigh.
(sob)
Linda
http://coloradofarmlife.wordpress.com
http://deltacountyhistoricalsociety.wordpress.com
We know we are good daughters when we miss our Mums, hope you are keeping inside where you are warm.. c
As you wrote: each of us sees your story just a little differently! The blue tinge on the snow charmed me this morning . . . and my mother too used perfume in exactly the same way . . . she was forever stuck on Chanel #5 . . . . and tho’ I am totally a doggie person, I really have fallen in love with your cats: little poseurs that they are 🙂 !
the sun hypnotises those cats, more tomorrow too! c
Oh Celi, I love reading about your Mom. Such a very special person she was indeed!!! After all, she had you! And you are very special!!! Now I’m wondering if you were able to see you Dad in NZ? I don’t remember reading about it while you were there. I love the story of him building the boat in the kitchen while your Mum was away! xoxoxo
No I did not get to see dad, he was busy selling his house and he lives on another island, but there is a family wedding coming up so I will see him then.. c
So he is on the South Island? We LOVED traveling and camping there!!! We thought it incredible that we could stop and camp where ever we wanted without having to pass through park rangers or pay booths or anything!!! We actually went to a park headquarter to ask about camping and they said, “Camp where ever you want.” We were astounded!!! So cool!!! So glad you’ll be able to connect with your dadsoon!! xo
Hi there,
I have nominated your blog for the Reality Blog Award ..for details go to
Congratulations!….I hope you have the time and the inclination to accept the award …..there’s no time frame involved.
Best wishes, Mary 🙂
Thank you so much Mary, I am so honoured, awards are always so kind even though I honestly do not have the time to play. but i am still very grateful. c
Love the kitty on the fence post!