cowpats and daisychains

Today the wind is wild, scattering cream rose petals about my modest lawn that I mowed yesterday. They look like fallen maidens who, after an evening of fun and frolics, have suddenly become frightfully tired and collapsed mid waltz to the ballroom floor. The intact, well preserved roses on the pergola look down at them with distaste. Looming above us are drab clouds, they bring solace only to a fisherman as he patiently waits for the fish to take a bite as he wades in cooling water. I am only discouraged by the grey as I watch the clouds move smoothly across the frame of the window. No sunshine is…

Dear Friends,  Almost two months into the ‘lockdown’ of Covid-19 - I feel our only weapon is the art of the pacifist until the vaccine breathes life! Like match boxes we all have the potential to become ash - but here inside we are safe - for the rough glass paper is without and we stay within. Back to back, side by side, ear to ear and nose to nose. Barely room to strike a pose, but the selfies spawn - endlessly and perhaps with more vigour. What else is there to do? How has one found the different pace of life - nice? Is it slower? Do you notice…

Dear Friends, I write to you from my new garden in Hay-on-Wye, the sun is shining, my hand-sewed bunting flaps silently to the spring breeze and I type from the sunny corner with a coffee to my right. The radio is playing some delightful violin concerto and I feel at peace. My toddler is snoozing under the tree in his pram. I notice a smattering of sparrows plucking up the courage to peck away at the bird feeder - their minds, I imagine, go something like this:                                   “Hoorah the human fledgling is no longer a threat to us, quick: eat, drink and be merry!” I notice the lack of human…

Dear friend, I find myself in a perpetual state of anxiety, guilt and with feelings of powerlessness as a human being who has produced offspring in the epicentre of the Climate Emergency. Below is a description of how my desire to be part of a thriving natural world is often starkly juxtaposed with realising the damage of ones very own existence. I have no answers - all I can do at this very moment is to share my words with you. The Trespasser: Today we drew up upon a road full of character and majesty. We had already begun a day of slapdash-adventure, following an urge of childish mystery. Now…

Dear Friends, I sit at the table with my one-year-old son beside me - he plays with wooden blocks and sings to himself - an instinctual meditational hum. The sun is warm outside but we are in our flat, shaded and cool. We have been listening to BBC Radio 3 but the classical music became too eerie for me, and so I popped Stormzy on. I for one am delighted he has become a British household name. Since first hearing ‘Vossi Bop’ on the radio I appreciated his lyrical poetry, yet there was a disconnection because I felt that I lacked the cultural and social understanding of Stormzy’s core vernacular.…

How The Light Gets In Festival site Dear Friends,What a contrast from last week. The Hay Literature and How The Light Gets In festivals of 2019 have drawn to a close. There is an appropriate drizzle pitter-pattering on the pavements and a breeze shakes the bunting about, waving a vigorous goodbye to the fun and frolics that rested upon Hay-on-Wye for a brief amassing, as though people had come from far and wide on a pilgrimage. I like to think of them as pilgrims of the humanities. As a resident of Hay myself, living slap bang in the centre, one can’t help but ogle at the carnival energy they bring with them -…

Dear Friend,There is so much to tell you that it is hard to know where to begin. One positive attribute about not keeping up with one's blog posts isthat there is a great deal to divulge - hopefully making for an interesting read.The last post I wrote (River Wye?) describes a blissful summer and the sensations and emotions that arose during many a swim in the river. Now that memory floods back to me - a British pastime at its best. Today the spring sunshine pours forth upon the small backs of the lambs in the fields and with the warmth the people in town seem friendlier too. Annie swimming in the…

Dear friends, I am happy to say cowpatsanddaisychains.com has just celebrated it’s 2nd anniversary last weekend, today’s post makes a grand total of 33. I hope this blog continues to entice you, the reader for years to come. Thank you for supporting my blog and communicating your own reactions and feelings to posts. Your comments keep me inspired! Yesterday can only be described as an extract from the blissfully simple meanderings of dear Ratty and Mole in Wind and the Willows. Everything about the day was stripped bare to its most organic and innocent core. On occasion one must absorb a feeling of this naive contentment. A pellucid air filled…

Dear Friends, On turning 26 last week I was prompted to evaluate my life a small amount yet again! I still don’t feel to be the sophisticated, elegant woman I imagined myself to be as I daydreamed my childhood away in search of sweeter, greener grass where I thought my adulthood might prosper. To my child self the image of Annie Driver at age 26 was hero-like and every thing was to be square-like and obvious, even the blurred background of this projected image had an air of success and deliverance about it. Now, entering my 27th year I find that the child self who once daydreamed that sophisticated woman…

Dear Friends Isn’t it lovely when the air doesn’t just take the opportunity to bite one in the face on an early morning jaunt?  The only good outcome of the biting cold on sleepy, warm flesh is the ‘healthy glowing’ look that might arise. Other than that I am very happy to be gradually saying goodbye to the bitter cold. [caption id="attachment_706" align="aligncenter" width="300"] Photo Shoot at Hay Antique Market[/caption] Spring is encouraging the baby rabbits to play among the daffodils, primroses and snowdrops. Every time a baby rabbit darts from the hedge to take centre stage on my friend’s lawn we both leap up with her three and half…