He pulls the carrot from the ground, And is amazed at what he finds. The bright orange of it peeks through the soil which he shakes from it. ‘My carrot!’ he says. He sowed it, watered it, watched it grow and is pleased with himself now, pleased with what he finds.
Tag Archives: elisabethpike
#49
What have I loved most today? A day with nothing to do. Painting in the garden, tea and cake for elevenses. Three happy children, sun shining. They dance in the sprinkler, she sings ‘it’s summer!’
#48
After dinner I am sweeping the kitchen floor, when I turn and pick up the scent of fresh mint that drifts in the back door. Sam is waiting there, almost completely covered with it, the leaves trailing over his head, hiding, waiting for his Daddy to find him.
#47
Many times we have driven up this road, in desperation to get back, to rest, to frantically search for the place where we could slow down, where we could breathe deeply. But now in the blue shades of the sunset on the M40, we are driving home. And for once I am at peace withContinueContinue reading “#47”
#46
A fifties dress that kicks out from the waist, and a pair of bright red shoes, for walking down the aisle. She looks beautiful and as confident as she ever was; without loud words but with something else that speaks truer and deeper: her loud kindness, a loud life.
#45
Today, Littlest is coming to light, Pushing up through the baby months, He is pointing and saying da. He crawls onto his brother’s bed And bounces with him, He crawls around after them in the hot sun. He knows he is like them, that he should be doing what they do, So he chews pensContinueContinue reading “#45”
#44
She whines after her nap, Fell asleep in the car with Daddy On their way back from Sainsbury’s But she shouldn’t sleep really, She’s too big. When she woke, Red cheeked, with hot tears, I told her Eva was coming, Her little friend, her cousin, And she stopped, just like that.
# 42
There is wonder in their eyes as they come face to face with the lobsters in their tank, scuttling across the floor, not much bigger than Ben. A touch of magic, of electric blue.
#41
We’ve set up camp, the children burble in their tent. ‘I want to sleep like this’ ‘the other day, last time, you said’ we mill around getting sweet things and cups of tea. There are cakes and pancakes to be eaten. Sheep bleat, the light falls.
#40
He won’t stay in bed. It is 8pm. I have been up since 6. I have to go to the supermarket. In two days we are going camping. I’m already exhausted. Sometimes, yes, it is too much.
#39
I took the fabric from my mother for these curtains, It came from her mother she said. In the daytime they look cream But at this time, the early evening or the morning, the leaves and prints come through, All delicate and secret until the light is just right.
#38
Sometimes we don’t even have time to say a word to each other, Don’t look at each other before we must attend to this or that, The fight or the nappy change or the insulin. And then after they sleep we each have our uphill journey to continue with. Music, writing, these dreams, we pullContinueContinue reading “#38”
#37
Sports day and she doesn’t know how to do it, She is shy and curls herself around my legs. She is in a running race but slows to look at me taking a picture, She stops short of the finish line and turns to see if I am still there.
#36
We break crockery every day it seems. There is a little stack of it in the corner of the kitchen that builds up and up. Mugs, a cup, two bowls. I can’t bear to throw it out just yet, I will turn it into something good one day.
#35
The kids are asleep and we’re like ‘quick! Tidy the house, get the dishes done, stand outside in the evening sunshine’. There must be some semblance of normality here, without the whirlwind, the half-thoughts, the avalanche of children. It is so good to have the sun on my face in the evening, to hear theContinueContinue reading “#35”
#34
There are toys strewn over the house, a pile of washing up, a garden full of the trail of a day’s play. Ben is not quite asleep, I listen to his little noises while I watch the news on low volume. The other two sleep, tired out by the sun. I can’t face tidying, OrContinueContinue reading “#34”
#33
He won’t be put down today, he eats only cool grapes and strawberries. He won’t sleep on his own bed, only next to me, his head wedged up against the pillow. He is sad and teary with teething today, and wants only to be held and touched. He wants to know I am there, thatContinueContinue reading “#33”
#31
I take chocolate, a cup of earl grey and my aching back up to my little writing room where I can pretend that I have all the time in the world to sink into ‘The Grapes of Wrath’, to look outside the window to the fading light. Three sleepy bodies are breathing heavily. My husbandContinueContinue reading “#31”
Home
Sometimes it is the weight that you take in a place. Or not. Sometimes you feel as if no one would even notice if you were gone. Sometimes you feel as if you were a bird, a tiny skeleton, and that it would be just as well to go and land somewhere else.ContinueContinue reading “Home”
#30
Your face makes a shadow against the sun. You crawl over me, Pinning me to the earth, This moment, This place. I’m lying on the grass in the hot sun. The bells ring loudly this Sunday afternoon. I’m too tired to move.
#29
She whispers to me in her bed, in the half-light. She says ‘there’s a little car at Grandmas, I’ll show you, I’ll get it out of the shed.’ She is serious, her face set, her little eyes shining. I can’t remember why she started talking about the little car, or what it has to doContinueContinue reading “#29”
#28
Friday afternoon. A cup of coffee at a friends, a chocolate muffin, a rain shower. Two hours of only having to think about this sweet coffee, and talking with my friends. I am responsible for no one except myself. It is a calming thought. Children cry but they are not my own. My heart isContinueContinue reading “#28”
#27
Moments of peace today, Moments of crazy. Like when I say ‘If either of you gets out of your bed again, I’m going to lose the plot’. I’m too tired and I need a break, and also to work out how to do this thing called life, With three little ones, a husband, a cat,ContinueContinue reading “#27”
#26
He says he wants to make a cake with me. He flicks through the book, Says ‘there’s too many, I can’t choose’. He finally settles on a pavlova. We crack the eggs and whisk them, he says it tastes like marshmallow and I tell him off for licking his fingers. He smoothes out the greaseproofContinueContinue reading “#26”
#25
I have a helper in the garden today, she gets changed into her blue spotty dress, she holds the secateurs awkwardly as she tries to clip a branch out of the way. ‘I cant do it’ she says, ‘push me on the rope swing’. She drops the secateurs in the long grass, and turns andContinueContinue reading “#25”
#24
It is like a whirlwind in our house on a Monday, after a week away, when I am still trying to catch up with washing. Ben is his usual self, growing growing, learning to stand, To wave, to blow kisses. Ivy is self sufficient today- she potters in the garden with her teddies. She squealsContinueContinue reading “#24”
#23
We have never been to Glastonbury and wonder if there’s something we are missing. We watch it from the living room, mesmerised. The garden is beautiful today, in our absence it has changed. A hundred roses burst from their buds, The spinach flails wildly. Sam runs from bush to bush, Searching for raspberries, gooseberries, tomatoes.
#22
We say goodbye to the beach on a windy but clear night. He takes as many stones as he can carry. She flits like a bird, says I can see an eagle mummy. (She means seagull). I cram pictures onto my iPhone because I want to keep it like this. But I wonder if IContinueContinue reading “#22”
#21
There are gravelled paths, a snail parade across the way, blue slate walls and ferns looping over the path. We walk up and up and turn to see the blue arm of the river, freckled with white boats. A spring flows down next to the path. Everything is still in the afternoon and amber sun.ContinueContinue reading “#21”
#20
We walk over a hill under blue skies and down a track going deeper into the knotty woods. We try to wear them out before bed but they still have more energy than us. Run little ones, you will overtake us one day.
#19
We are defeated by the sun. The children are too hot and don’t go to sleep until 9. But still, but still, today there have been treasures- a car ferry, their belief suspended as we sailed out on the water- a cliff railway down to hot hot sands, good friends, a few raindrops.
#18
So beautiful. So good to have my expectations exceeded. The sun makes the sea sparkle, the children are happy. We are surprised by good things at Blackpool Sands, by the green trees just back from the shoreline, by the golden shingle, by the hidden cove. On the beach everyone dreams.
#17
I can’t even remember what I have done today. Except that I have had energy and I don’t know why. We went to the shop to buy holiday magazines, the children are wild with excitement.
#15
Sam went to school today For the first time, And then he wouldn’t tell me about it because he was too tired, And it reminded me of those days When I’d drop him off at preschool, Only three, And go to get him later, not knowing what he’d done, How he’d spent his five hours,ContinueContinue reading “#15”
#14
We keep worrying about our little girl who goes high and low like a roller coaster. She is only three, not old enough for any of this really. Still she is brave, much braver than me.
#13
Sometimes I want it to go on forever: this exhaustion in the summer evening, this ache in my belly of love for these little people who need me. The thought of them growing up is too painful to think about just now. Let’s pretend you will always come and sit on my lap for cuddles,ContinueContinue reading “#13”
#12
I forgot to write yesterday, too busy with these little ones who bring me so much joy, who make my back ache and who have taught me to love.
#11
It is times like these where the sun is kind in the morning, where it kisses your skin with sweetness, where your toes are damp from the morning dew, where the world just here is happy to be alive- these birds, these buzzing flies, these trees. Thankful is how I feel this morning, humbled toContinueContinue reading “#11”
#9
You should have seen it today, a thousand raindrops battering on the Tarmac and shivering the leaves of the trees, making them louder, louder. I held my Benjamin at the open window, his eyes lit with wonder. You should have heard it tonight, here in our front room, the clatter and din of the churchContinueContinue reading “#9”
#8
It is half past nine when we step outside into our clear beautiful garden, and inhale a lungful of sweet night air. I pull the washing (still damp) from the line and you gather up those dirty and faded plastic toys that the kids have scattered around. We fold up the teepee, look at theContinueContinue reading “#8”
#7
Sunday night. Bruschetta, white wine spritzer, the children sleep.
#6
We are woken this morning by a rumble of thunder. You sit up in our bed and say ‘I’m not scared of thunderstorms anymore’. Later, there is a break in the rain and we walk through the farmers field behind our house. The sky is big and beautiful. It stops me in my tracks andContinueContinue reading “#6”
#5
A night out in the rooftops of the town. We bask in the evening warmth after a hot day. A gin and tonic, a beer, a perfect latte. And then words and noise, new faces and faces with a hint of someone that I once knew hiding in them. I am still looking for someone,ContinueContinue reading “#5”
#4
It has been a crazy non stop day. There has been laughter and tears in the garden, fighting over the rope swing, a big four year old boy getting toys for his little brother, playing with him. There has been a scoot to the playground where the light was beautiful and clear, where we satContinueContinue reading “#4”
#3
It’s strange being back here, Back home. In a place where I scan the faces of people that I meet, Wondering if I knew them, Or went to school with one of their daughters or sons. In a place where people know my parents, My maiden name, The house I grew up in. It isContinueContinue reading “#3”
#2
Jacob is going home today. And meanwhile, I am alone in this big old house, tiptoeing around the sleeping beast of my writing, picking at its edges, seeing if I still know it, still feel it. there are no babies, no cries or moans to distract me, just my cold toes on the wooden floor, ContinueContinue reading “#2”
#1
They are bundled off to preschool this morning and there is space and time while littlest sleeps. But I am not writing yet, only reading. It rains and the sky is grey. We go to Grandmas and I am bursting to be out of my house, out of my smallness and as soon as we’reContinueContinue reading “#1”
Today
Today has been like a tree with high branches to sit or climb in. Treehouse tall. I have been scared and cried, I have felt my heart quake with worry, but I have seen a beautiful blue sky and walked in the sunshine too. Roots and branches, all different directions. That has been today.
Another One
Another one. I was in the garden centre with my two, no three now. I forget to count Ben because he is so little, even now. I strap him to me and he doesn’t cry so I have a hand each and a strong voice for the other two. There we were with our overpricedContinueContinue reading “Another One”
Enough is enough
here in the evening, emptied out. here I am, sitting on the carpet, the debris of the day strewn around me like a fox has been at a rubbish bag. the baby squirms and wriggles on the sofa; he is not yet settled. I have not yet washed up, had a cup of tea, hadContinueContinue reading “Enough is enough”
July Thunder
We are at playgroup; the last of term in a heatwave. The grass has turned to straw, and the children run about in their swimming costumes. The colour goes out from the sky though, and there is a clap of thunder that makes us all jump. The rain falls on us like God is pouringContinueContinue reading “July Thunder”
They are like jewels
They are like jewels, these people, They shine in a room of closed off doors. At toddler group, in a rowdy room of children’s choruses, I see a mother start to cry. I think her child has hurt her and it has suddenly all become too much, but I do not know really, I amContinueContinue reading “They are like jewels”
Crying in Public Places
This time it is me again, in a room of friends or a room of strangers. At the door of my son’s preschool when he shouts ‘don’t like preschool’ the whole way there, and leaps from the buggy board and runs off down the road, and I hand him over, howling and I have toContinueContinue reading “Crying in Public Places”
Charterhouse
And what have I loved the most, this weekend? Walking out of the wedding speeches to see lovely Charterhouse at dusk, where the children ran and ran across the cricket green, their bare feet upon the wet lawn. And then today, on the blowy beach with blue-grey clouds on the horizon, where we paddled gingerlyContinueContinue reading “Charterhouse”
Happy
On a day where we thought it would rain incessantly, and it did not, we drove out to a garden centre and watched the electric blue fish dart around their tank and said ‘hello’ to Bobby the parrot, who having hopped down from his perch, was walking around, dragging his tail feathers, pecking people’s shoes. ContinueContinue reading “Happy”
There was a man on the news today
There was a man on the news today, who couldn’t speak for crying. His young wife had just been killed in a hit and run and he was there all day and into the night at this makeshift roadside shrine, bowing into the roar and fumes, to pray for her soul. They had come aContinueContinue reading “There was a man on the news today”
Weight
There’s something so liberating in the crash of the downpour outside, in the rush of the rain, the weight of it as it falls. We open the window and listen.
Moment
28th March A moment to myself while they sleep upstairs. Conversations from outside float through the window, a plane drones in the sky. I sit still and listen to the brush of sandpaper on a window frame, the slam of a car door, the call of an unknown bird. It is these little things thatContinueContinue reading “Moment”
elisabeth pike 