The Power Station

The Power Ball

looming in the far distance

the machine knits a

commentary on our time

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Bee Happy

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As the summer fades into autumn the life in the garden changes. Birds exhausted from a lovely summer’s rearing are quiet and the hum of insects dies to a soft murmuring. Ash keys populate the path whilst the late pink roses curl with the first nip of the coming cold. Down the greening slope of the orchard the evening shadows fall longer with the dipping sun. The happy bees call us to be happy ourselves at this magical turning of the world.

Annie Xiety

Annie Xiety

 

She’s a tricky customer laying havoc to my peace of mind. How dare she invade the inner recesses of my contentment with her withering whimpering calls for attention! Just when I thought we were over the hump. The faulty tap and downstairs drain/sink had been fixed with a minimum of fuss and maximum of efficiency by a very competent plumber. The foundations of the house did not need to be dug up and life as we know it could go on without any concern. What a relief! Well – for a day until last night the oil boiler stopped working and didn’t respond to my repeated proddings of the restart button. Time to call the repair man. And here she comes again. Galloping through my heart in triumphant rampage. Annie Xiety. Causing me to curse, swear, and turn into a jibbering wreck imagining the worst scenarios. How little it takes! How quickly the mood changes from contentment to sheer panic and depression. Lizzi helps to put into perspective and the morning brings a greater awareness of what’s going down – and who the real enemy is.