The Dream Pedlar

Today was a wonderfully ordinary day. Play-time with D in the morning, my morning walk, breakfast and work, more play-time with D, cooking while KrA took D on a bike ride to Paletta, lunch, some TV time for D while I snoozed beside him, sorting of library books, me heading

D turned five today. I am always hesitant to write about my child, about motherhood, about parenting, because whenever I try to capture that experience in words, I find it is quite impossible to explain it in a way without romanticising the struggle, or downplaying it somehow. When we do

Last week, I had the rare privilege of sitting with D for one of his online classes. KrA is the one who usually sits with D, but on this occasion, the children were to make Fathers' Day crafts for their dads, so D asked me to sit with him so

free-writing session 3.2

free-writing exercise 2.2

Sometime in the middle of this week, when I wasn't looking, the site stopped working. KrA, the techie in the house, looked into it and informed me there was some trouble with the hosting service, which essentially meant I may have lost everything I had put up on the site

'To A Child', a poem by Christopher Morley