I’ve been struggling for a while to get back into my manuscript for the much needed re write. There is a lot going on at the moment that keeps invading. Scottish referendum (please don’t leave us), problems in Gaza, Iraq, Syria and the ebola outbreak.

So I felt it was time to creatively escape and this flashed into my mind. escape

And here is the text laid out in a more readable way:

Free words from trappings and uniform. Mind is drifting in an ever outwards dance with dainty steps. Desire to put ink to paper but not, no never at the moment to include those phrases thoughts to screen. But, but but- it needs to be done. Need to finish, finish and perfect the overall manuscript. They’re waiting for it and then I’ll be onto something new! But would I just be breaking free from discipline? Dreams in jeopardy against that too-fast ticking of the clock.  Time for a little escape and some clearer headspace to EXPAND thoughts into SPACES and ideas. New stories have to come from somewhere and the mind is too full of the must do, must finish,  must think this, must feel this and the guilt is an ANCHOR. NO ONE CAN FLY WHEN THEY ARE TIED TO THE GROUND. Yet here I go around and around and around. There is this pause though. This breath of air. We breathe. Shoulders lift with the shadows taken off. It has all been for something. And to remember remember always not just the 5th, but… for the words to run without FILTER. It is time for a little escape.

Fibi xx

Fortunately this ties in quite nicely with todays Daily Prompt. Hooray!

I believe!

I’m sure you’ll all be sick of me talking about this, but thank you Daily Prompt for a perfect oppertunity! Another reason to believe….

Currently my reason to believe is the generosity of the people around me. A few weeks ago I put out a call for poems, stories, artwork and photographs to pull together in a book. The purpose of this book was to help raise money and awareness for cystic fibrosis and the fire fighters charity via Alex’s Adventures.
I was overwhelmed by the amount of work I received back, and the immense quality of so many of the pieces.
One of my favourite things is a poem written by my three year old niece about her favourite person. Honestly, it’s inspired! But there are also some gorgeous short stories and many poems dedicated in love to those who have passed on from this world. I’m so proud of the collection and just feel so grateful to all of the contributors who helped make it what it was.
It’s been an emotional journey, pulling it all together but it’s worth it. I hope it does well as all proceeds will go to charity and help raise awareness for things that are close to my heart.
One final, enormous thank you has to be to a friend I contacted, out of the blue just two days before sending the book to print. I asked, because I knew he was into arty things, if he had any illustrations that would fit the theme. His response was just incredible. He managed to get three amazing pictures back to me, for three poems. They are amazing and so beautiful. His website is Unknown Creatives and they come very highly recommended.
If any of you lovely bloggers would want to review this raw and heartfelt collection that would be amazing! Please contact me 🙂

And here it is! You mean the world to me… a collection made and dedicated to love.

Looking out my back door: Spiders in the Toilet.

Another Daily Prompt 🙂
The back door is ancient, thick and warped slightly with age. Flakes of red paint fall away when you slide back the bolt. Well, you jam it back with as much force as you can manage, because it likes to stick. It’s got black plastic handle which doesn’t turn anymore. You just have to pull it towards you, sharply, and try not to punch yourself in the face. I find that ducking to the left is usually the best option, but try not to tread on the cat who is inevitably sat on your feet, refusing to go through the flap.
The back door opens over two concrete steps, the edges chipped with age. Stepping down, your faced with the outside lavatory that was built with the house. The flush chain dangles lifeless and half-snapped off. The toilet seat is dark and thankfully shut. Who knows what could crawl up from the pre-war plumbing. We used to use that toilet, when we were children. In the summer time we’d run in, skidding with our bare feet on the icy on the concrete floor, vision green and speckled from the sun. It was a favourite habitat for spiders, even then. Once, I forgot that we shouldn’t lock the door and I was stuck. My own, white-washed cell and a lock that wouldn’t budge. I panicked and my poor father tried to climb in through the skinny window. He must have been standing on a ladder because even now, the window is well above my head. Just as they were about to cut the door away from its hinges though, the lock gave. It’s game was up.
After that summer, it became a home for kittens. Our cat made her bed there and had her litters. I remember sitting on the dusty floor, cradling fluffy bundles on my knees.
Next to the toilet is the coal shed. I think, it was only ever used for coal one winter and then never again – because we gas installed. It’s still lined with the dust but it’s where the ice-cream freezer lives. Yes, we make you work hard for your dessert in my family.
There’s supposed to be another door, between the outside and the shed and the toilet. But it came off years ago.
Now you just step out, into the garden. Overgrown, filled with flashes of pink, purple and yellow wild flowers. The giant hydrangeas’, the strawberry plants, sweet pea and blackberry bushes. You can lie on the soft green grass and imagine you are anywhere in the world.

I bring the rain….Sorry!

photoIt’s a long and running joke that whenever I visit my Sister and the mini’s in Ireland it starts to rain. Literally, I’ve stepped off the plane onto a sunny runway and clouds have filled the sky within moments. My Sister has pulled up to the airport in summer clothes and stepped out of the car under a blue sky…however by the time I reach the car the torrent has usually begun and doesn’t cease until at least three days after I’ve left the country. I’m so very sorry Ireland – I try to make my visits brief…

However, visiting the Parents of Mr L over the past few months. I seem to have bought a similar curse to Devon. The weather in the run up to Christmas was horrendous, truly awful deluges and severe flooding.  Mr L’s lovely Mother did her very best to show me the town and surrounding area, but it is quite difficult to see through hammering rain and from the inside of the car. Although I did truly appreciate the effort and agree that, whatever the weather, the coastline is beautiful.  Guess what happen the VERY MINUTE that I drove out of county? Blue skies. Mr L and his family went for a gorgeous walk in winter sunshine and it dried up all the rain.

Maybe though, the curse is broken. Please find below proof that I have experienced sunshine whilst on holiday. (There was of course at least one small deluge as soon as I got out of a car, but this curse breaking is going to take time…)

I have put up original and edited photos, please let me know which you prefer! Edits of course are by Pixlr Express+

What do you think?


pic picorig

Stone Beauty

Last weekend I achieved two things. The first, a lifelong ambition, the second would be cause for any writer to celebrate.

I started the weekend with an extended journey on the M25. Lovely on a Friday afternoon when everyone is spilling out of London, desperate to retreat to anywhere that is not within the bustling metropolis. Rob and I inched our way through the junctions, avoiding white vans, blue vans, green lorry’s without indicators and all manner of the usual death defying driving that you need to employ when braving the largest car park in the world. For that is what it ends up being at 4:30pm on Friday. (At this point, I have to add that I’m pleased I’m managing to keep typing, as Lewis is sitting on my arms and keeps nuzzling my hands, so I’m actually typing around a very fluffy cat who’s suddenly turned over affectionate- right, he’s gone. I’m safe to continue – wait he’s decided to sit behind me. Sigh He’s much bigger than he thinks he is these days and no long fits on my shoulder! )

Now, where was I? The M25, of course, wonderful. Now, we turned off the Motorway and made out way to Amesbury. The next morning at 5:45 we woke and drove 6 miles to an ancient wonder of the world, somewhere, I had dreamed of visiting for years, Stonehenge.  Did you know that if you book far enough in advance you can arrange to visit either at sunrise, or sunset and walk amongst the stones? You step beyond the perimeter rope and can walk right through the stones themselves. Amazing. Truly, truly remarkable.

I’ll never forget my first sighting of the stones. We were on the A303 and on our way, we cleared the crest of the hill and they were there, to the right. Bathed in a soft golden light and tinged with pink in a dawn sun that rose behind them. They looked as though they’d been made from molten gold. I could barely contain my excitement, and couldn’t stop staring at them, until they’d gone from sight once more, (this did almost cause us to miss our turning as I was supposed to be navigating.)


We parked and wandered through the barriers to the hill. Only a small group of people had gathered and booked onto the slot. So we stepped over the usual barrier and approached the stones themselves. I had always imagined a vast circle, but the circle itself was much smaller than I expected, but the stones were much larger! The remaining central stone looked at least 50ft high. It was amazing to walk through in the early morning light. Some of our party had bought tin whistles and played music, which was a bit strange but seemed to suit the time of day, in a weird way.

I was astounded at how quickly the hour passed us by. I walked between the stones, dew sinking into my Converse. We completed a slow circle around the perimeter, counting the post holes within the ditch. One sarsen stone was out of place at the perimeter and we named it Jimmy; a place to mark the start and finish of our wander before we returned to the inner circle. We were shown where an axe and spear had been carved into one of the inner stones. Honestly, it was an incredible experience and one I’d recommend.  I also managed to take some amazing pictures!

Now, for my second achievement… I had set myself a target of writing 500 words during the week and I’m pleased to report that I managed this as well. Overall, the weekend finished on a satisfactory note. One lifelong ambition down and a small writing target met.

You may stare at me for many hours – I am a book!



Well, at least that is what I imagine Lewis is saying…

Beneath him is my reading for the Summer. I have been introduced to Robert Jordan by my very own Robert. Although I am only reading the second book; I’m looking forward to getting my teeth into the series.  I’ve also been listening to some Bernard Cornwell as audiobooks. I’m  fan of Sharpe, but really enjoyed listening to the Last Kingdom and the Pale Horseman.

Just some of my many recommendations for any writer! The advice I’ve come across over the years, has been to read, read, read and read – whilst I’m on a break between semesters, this is what I intend to do!

…I have far too many books….