Wishbone Soup Cures Everything

Some people love New Year (of course I do, I love almost everything) some people think it's just repetitive nonsense (they buy five year diaries) but not many people care for January, as this is traditionally the time to be cold, broke, fat and bored. All cycles are repetitive if you go round like a hamster in a wheel, it should be more of a spiral if you want to enjoy the ride. Have a destination, don't be restrictively obsessed by it, enjoy the journey and Have A Happy New Year!   After the gluttony comes January. Unpalatable cold Vegetable juice month of Icy treasureless bank vaults If only we could sell off that Excess fat. Attempt optimism Devise detox for an altered life It’s a harsh start, feeling that pinch Toxins dig their dirty nails in Spear the fretful sense of self Will the butterfly emerge? What if it’s One of those boring brown ones? Delicate designs wobble at ground level Above the constant mining Safe cover remains

Specially dedicated to everyone who has washed their clothes by hand, not by choice. Especially if you have had a sick baby. I would love a dry toilet, I barely clean my house, my carbon footprint is petite, but life without a washing machine? That would take some convincing.  351 Somewhere a woman is dreaming Of the dance, where she feels Most awake, most herself, most alive But when the dream is done, don’t ask 352 Clothes curl foetal in the shushing Sluicing machine, my most loved appliance Daily, to my rescue; I have laboured Over bathfuls of fabric, enough, enough 353 Somewhere another family wakes, perplexed By unfamiliar walls and ceilings and curtains drawn Having slept soundly in their new home; happiness Settles swiftly, after the months of waiting 354 Without a machine for laundering garments Stamping on the grubby stuff in soap-scum Is the congenial stage. The sodden wretched Back aching task is rinsing out, wringing out  

If you ever do get stuck in a menu rut, try picking a weekly theme. We initially thought we would do this for a year, but it lasted about two weeks- Mexican and Renaissance. Tequila slammers is not a balanced meal, in spite of the healthy lemon wedges.  341 Boy steps carefully, eyes to ground Mist disperses into temperate air Follows his footprints up the lane Lingering, hovering 342 Ground mist leaves grudgingly Forms nostalgic clouds, inclined to Reunite with the solid earth Incomplete, suspended 343 Mr inspects his list of doing things Weighs up weather, deliberates winter And the firewood situation, he knows how Many logs in the shed, calculates nights of fires 344 My list is immediate. Without parsnips The roast is not what we have envisioned Details make a life, meal by meal Layers of flavour assemble 345 I will walk into town, in my town clothes Not too muddy. Also raincoat and rubber Boots; I have noted the pen

The outside table is made out of an old pallet. It has a rustic charm, especially with a tablecloth. By night, candle lit, it is one of the most beautiful places on earth, as voted by me, Mr & Boy. We love the space we're in.   331 This morning we are written Cursively across the ground floor Comments scroll the length of Joined up lines of liking 332 Breakfast can squash us in at the tiny table We are pleased to share cramped proximity When it sprawls out, the fundamental cohesion Persists, and elbows can relax 333 Convention is considered, on merit, sometimes Respected, often, almost inattentively, pushed Into something workable, and it works, like art Because of the strength of the basic structure 334 Boy regards the sky, eyebrow raised Rain is a possibility but he will be ok To walk to school up the lane which Becomes a small river when wet 335 Cheap shoes and adventure, I wish they Were a more agreeable mix. A

The way we have breakfast does vary. We don't have to share a table, because we share living here, in our lovely, ridiculous swamp, and that means we have to be a team, or there is no fire, no jam, no cider, no comfort and no fun. Laughing is still more important than wishes!  321 Pour porridge oats, the texture Yielding and rough, mix to taste, Mine is a thick paste, undercooked And flavoured with jam 322 This morning I choose quince From the jam scrap jars massing In the fridge, dump a spoonful Into the chipped bowl of hot oats 323 By western standards we are Not wealthy, nevertheless Five kinds of jam can be found Here in our refrigeration device 324 Boy likes supermarket generic Hoops and milk, he holds the bowl With 2 equidistant flaws, while he Heckles the stats of the M1 Grant tank 325 Mr, after walking twice through The house, spectacle hunting, settles For hoops and milk, sat at his laptop Folds it out like

Boy (what we call him, not his real name) is always going outside just to see what's about. Ice is a particular fascination. He has a natural scientific curious exploratory type of mind. We found some human bones once, but we were exploring an abandoned church crypt.  311 Signs of this family rousing From sleep; Footsteps Toilet flushes, mumbling Retraced steps for things forgotten 312 Cereal bowls take their Morning journey, cups swoop From hooks, kettle flies To tap and back, spoon tray clatters 313 Dog stares it is her Jedi mind Trick to get breakfast Every morning her bowl is Replenished, clever mind trick 314 Washing machine jaw opens On a side hinge, dirty clothes Stuffed in to rumble Through the belly drum 315 Second coffee. Around this Percolated calm, problems arise But the lost trousers will be Inevitably, in the airing cupboard 316 Other lost items materialise, such as shoes Drying on the hear

When in doubt, celebrate- one of my favourite life rules. It is more cheerful than sensible.  This was not factory farmed pig, incidentally, which is why we had to wait for a bargain before we could indulge. Overall, we aim for responsible freedom, which is cheerful, sensible and affordable on a limited income. And string does make a good drawer handle, although after some years of heavy use the one on the cutlery drawer has frayed and needs replacing.  301 Easing back to tired, sitting On a rickety chair, eyes shut The sun rises, later than me Bathes this weary face in light 302 Quiet time, before the Post arrives, before I vex Over what disturbances may Slap down on the doormat 303 If just a little bit more arrives Than departs, my guarded   Jubilant budget will dissipate Exasperating material frets 304 Necessity has mothered some Invention and adopted some Attitude. We have replaced the Broken drawer handles with string 3