Some traditional housekeeping duties first thing today.
Happy Birthday to Offspringette, about to steer her first ship into a port somewhere near you perhaps, and today at risk of inviting matricide yet again I thought I'd share her very first poem written aged just five. The original slightly foxed from twenty two years of hanging in the downstairs loo/utility room alongside the Kayaker's Letter to the Tooth Fairy (saving that one for the right moment) and the Gamekeeper's story from the bibal of a lady called Naomi who had a hussburnd called Elimileck.
All this and more, like most homes, makes the downstairs loo the most interesting room in the house.
Possibly a slight falling away of style in the final stanza but we've always loved 'snow drew near to Devon' and that fine alliteration of 'wind wruseld winderly across the felieds of Dartmoor'.
Then there's that subtle contrast ot stillness and movement between 'valleys were white the night fell with a hole moon stars of silver twinkel with exitmet.'
A family treasure...the poem and the writer.
Happy Birthday Offspringette. x
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