Category: Small World

It’s a small world. Tiny living, flash fiction, little treasures, mini moments.

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Books: a Love Letter

Dear Books,

What can I say? You’ve been by my side for as long as I can remember: from childhood fairytales to midlife learning; from university libraries to cosy Tuesday afternoons with a cup of tea and a cat on my lap. The world opened up thanks to you.

When life hurt you offered shelter under Ladybird wings, gifted Shakespeare to my confused teenage mind. I got out of hospital and you knew I needed cartoon comfort, leaving Calvin and Hobbes on my bed. Health fears and lockdowns had you rummaging around for something new to surprise me with – the poems of John O’Donohue.

When life was light you offered Thomas Hardy to share my university journey, dropping copies of anything by Neil Gaiman when I was ready to escape into other worlds. When laughter was required you reached out a hand to tickle my sides with Bill Bryson. Lately you seem to know that my mind needs to be expanded and I found a 500-page tome by Yuval Noah Harari on my desk.

Most of all, you’ve pushed The Great Gatsby into my hands at regular intervals to bring me home. Words heal, you taught me that. And I’ll always be grateful.

Happy World Book Day.

Love,

Susan

“She read books as one would breathe air, to fill up and live.” Annie Dillard

Watch a little video of the love letter – including pretty pictures
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It’s Raining, it’s Pouring

It rains in Ireland. It’s now been three days straight of non-stop rain, with flooding in places and all-round general soddenness. The emerald isle wouldn’t be so green without it I suppose, but a break from the grey would be welcome.

Most of us feel a bit down on these dark days – why does the weather affect our state of mind? Perhaps it’s linked with food production when it can be a matter of life and death and the success, or otherwise, of crops. Maybe the mind sends warnings when the sun disappears since the body needs Vitamin D. Or maybe we just hate having wet socks.

A group of American tourists enjoy Bergen’s summer weather

Not long ago I spent some time in Bergen in Western Norway and came to understand what was meant by the phrase ‘coming down in stair-rods’. The heavy, solid rain just did not stop. Apparently Bergen, known as the city of the seven mountains, is the wettest city in Europe.  And yet Norwegians, and Scandinavians in general, are among the happiest people on the planet and regularly top the happiness index. What’s going on?

Talk to anyone from any of these countries and they’ll simply shake their heads and wonder what the problem is with darkness and cold and rain. Danish hygge has had a bit of a moment in recent years as us Celts try to learn from our Viking neighbours: snuggle under blankets, light candles, bake cakes and most of all – get outside.

No matter the weather, wrap up warm, grab an umbrella and hat and gloves and just go out the door. It keeps our Nordic neighbours sane and we can do the same. This could also lead to an important mind shift as we prepare for the challenges of winter, seeing them as an opportunity to hibernate, rest, and appreciate simple pleasures like sipping hot chocolate while listening to the rain on the windows.

On these dark days, with continuing uncertainty and fear, I’m embracing my inner Viking and the Nordic way of life – I’m off now to jump in some puddles. See you out there!

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Home Sweet Home

Working from home once seemed like a distant dream. Imagine, I would think, I could go to meetings without getting stuck in traffic jams. I could write reports in pyjamas. Pyjamas!

Like most dreams, once it’s achieved – or more accurately once it’s foisted upon you – it falls rather flat. Zoom gatherings (pyjamas just on the bottom half naturally), driving nowhere at all (thus avoiding any traffic), and then a surprising arrival in the form of lack of purpose. Turns out maybe I did enjoy the external working life after all. There’s really nothing like getting back home after a long day. Traipsing down the stairs to sit on a different seat is somehow not quite the same.

“Home is the most important place in the world” says IKEA (who should know) and I tend to agree. It’s a place of safety, shelter, comfort and filled with people and things you love.

Or it should be. I’m haunted by reports during last year outlining the rise in domestic abuse incidents with adults and children at risk trapped in their house. These places are not a home. There are wonderful organisations and individuals working around the clock to do what they can in these dire circumstances and I’m glad they’re there. I feel helpless.

What I can do, apart from give donations when possible, is find gratitude in this little terraced house I now call home. Yes it’s damp (the hall wall is mostly dispersed plaster on the stair carpet), yes it can be noisy (that’s terraced living for you), yes it’s small (I can sit at the kitchen table and reach out to the cutlery drawer without getting up) but it’s home. It’s cosy with a fire and candles lit, it’s got dark Edwardian green walls, it’s got a huge picture of Paris (ah Paris), it contains things I love (millions of books mostly), pictures from travelling days (remember those?), and of course a warm relationship with a lovely husband. 

Being in lockdown with someone you love and respect, in a cute little house with an overgrown garden (and the all-important shed for writing and thinking) is a blessing. I am safe.

And if I find myself drifting from this gratitude I can simply click my red heels together (or my red DMs) and repeat with Dorothy: “there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.”

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It’ll be Okay

Today feels like a poetry reading day. Press play and take a deep breath and repeat after me: “Everything is going to be all right.”

You can find this and other life-affirming, life-altering poems in The Emergency Poet edited by Deborah Alma (Michael O’Mara Books Limited, 2015) p. 118

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A poetry reading to end the year

John O’Donohue has become our official 2020 poet – he has so much to say about life, faith, doubt and had more than his fair share of wisdom. He has been my guide for this year of years. This is a reading of ‘At the End of the Year’ from To Bless the Space Between Us (2008).

Wishing you and yours a blessed New Year filled, most of all, with hope. 2021 – we’re counting on you!