Monthly Archives: January 2024

Silently Watching Under A Wolf Moon

Two whole seasons had passed, and the castle was deep in the depths of a third. Winter had arrived.

Standing alone on the castle ramparts, Jem reflected on the past few months. The dark angel’s trial had proven to be a more protracted affair than any of them had envisaged. During the testimony of several of the initial witnesses who were called in relation to Anna’s earlier crimes, details of further crimes came to light. After a long debate among The Thirteen, Jefferson chose to add them to the original lengthy list. This in turn posed a challenge to the court as the witnesses for these newly listed charges were not present in the sealed chamber.

As autumn had arrived, Jefferson had created a fresh outer seal to the court, adding an extra floor of the castle space. This allowed him to lift his original seal and welcome thirty new witnesses into the courtroom.

Day after day, Jem sat along with the other witnesses and listened to the trial. Those first few weeks felt more like history lesson rather than court testimony. The oldest of the charges against Anna dated back to the last decade of the 18th century, less than five years after she had come into her powers. There were five charges that all related to the killing of vampire children who had been the children of mine owners in Devon and Cornwall. Even then her ego had led to carelessness as she had left some of the siblings of those children alive and it was them who now gave their testimony against her.

The detailed testimony of the final sibling triggered a debate amongst The Thirteen when he made reference to Anna’s creator, Tristan’s bloodline. He revealed that it well-known in the area that their vampire blood was tainted and not pure. He implied that this “taintedness” led to their erratic behaviour. To rule out any further issues in that regard, proceedings were halted until blood samples could be taken from Anna and analysed. The job of analysing the samples fell to Meryn. While she worked on them in one of the offices beneath the main courtroom, everything in the court stopped. It took her a week to glean a full profile to bring back before The Thirteen.

Early in the second week of October, the senior vampiress returned to the courtroom.

“Meryn,” began Jefferson. “Can you please confirm if the accusations made by our esteemed Cornish friends carry any truth?”

“There is some truth to them,” confirmed Meryn, glancing at her copious notes. “In due course, we will need to question Anna herself as it appears her history differs from what we have been led to believe up until now.”

“Differs?” echoed Stefan, raising one eyebrow.

“Anna is the daughter of Tristan in the sense that he created her and introduced his “pureblood” ancestry to her blood. However, there is a second pure blood variant present in Anna’s sample. We need to question her to confirm the timeline, but I am of the initial opinion that Anna was half-vampire by birth but was unaware of this. I suspect her natural vampire blood lay dormant until it was combined with Tristan’s. When the two pure bloods mixed, they have in fact created a “super” pure blood, for want of a more scientific description.”

“Is that even possible?” demanded Stefan sharply.

“Yes,” replied William, causing the rest of The Thirteen to turn and stare at him. “We saw that in Salem after the witch trials. Two pure blood families mixed their blood through marriage. The resulting children possessed extraordinary powers that they fortunately chose to use for good rather than evil.”

“Meryn, are you suggesting that Anna’s behaviour is the result of a chemical reaction triggered by bloodlines merging?” enquired Jefferson.

“Potentially but the timeline of the charges leads me to a different conclusion.”

“And that is?”

“I think both bloodlines may be tainted by something. I would need to run more tests, but I suspect that Tristan already had “super” pure blood as we’re calling it, but when Anna’s existing pure blood mixed with it, it created a unique superstrength of the vampire bloodline that we need to explore at a later time,” replied Meryn calmly. “Put simply, I feel that our sister Anna has the purest vampire blood that we have seen for several hundred years but there may be underlying issues here that we are unfamiliar with.  She comes from a very old bloodline.”

“One of the original four families?” asked Jefferson.

“Yes.”

“How long would you need to run further tests?”

“That could be a lifetime’s work,” surmised Meryn plainly. “To get a large enough sample, I’d need a sample from every vampire she has ever created.”

“Do we know how many that is?” asked Jefferson.

“We need to ask Anna that,” stated Meryn, feeling that she was stating the obvious.

Weaving an enchantment first, Jefferson addressed the dark angel, “Anna, you have heard Meryn’s report, so I don’t propose to repeat the facts. Answer one simple question for the court. How many vampires have you created?”

The dark angel stared at him, maintaining a stony silence.

“Answer the question, Anna.”

Unable to fight the truth enchantments that bound her, Anna stared straight at Meryn and answered, “One.”

“One?” echoed Jefferson, somewhat surprised.

“One,” she repeated. “Jem is the only vampire I have created.”

Meryn felt a chill run through her.

“If my theory is correct, I’ll need to test Jeremiah’s blood to confirm it,” stated Meryn as she struggled to maintain her composure. “I request permission from the court to take a sample from him.”

“Permission granted,” replied Jefferson. “Proceed.”

“I’ll need to take him to my office. The equipment is there.”

“A court official will accompany you both. He will record all conversation for the benefit of the court records,” advised Jefferson. “You have fifteen minutes.”

Meryn’s temporary office looked more like a science lab than her usual cluttered book filled study. Conscious of the presence of the court official, she kept conversation to a minimal. She indicated to Jem to take a seat and roll up his sleeve.

“I’ll need to draw a few vials to ensure a sufficient sample size for testing,” she explained as she prepared the kit.

“Just make it quick, mother,” grumbled Jem.

As he spoke, he felt his mother subtly probing his mind, telling him to fake a fear of needles to buy her some extra time.

“How many needles is this going to take?” he asked sharply. “I hope you know what you are doing?”

“Just one,” she said as she laid out the equipment on the desk. “Sit still. I’ll swab the area to clean it, insert the needle then take the samples. One sharp prick is all you’ll feel.”

“Hmph,” he muttered as he felt her probing his mind again.

“Listen carefully. This bloodwork could have serious ramification for you and Anna.”

“How?” he replied silently.

“You already have my pure blood by birth. You have her’s by vampire birth. I need to test my own, but I suspect that you are actually the purest vampire ever created.”

“You have to be joking?”

A sharp stab of a needle made him cry out, causing the court official to jump.

“Shit, mother! That hurt!” protested Jem loudly.

“Sit still,” she commanded. “You moved. I now need to re-insert the needle.”

While she withdrew the needle and slowly prepared a second one, they continued their silent conversation.

“If Anna’s blood is deemed of high enough purity, then despite the charges, the court won’t order the death penalty.”

Meryn paused as she jabbed Jem for a second time. This time he muttered under his breath but relaxed as she began to fill five small vials with his blood. While he watched his deep red blood drain into the thin glass tubes, he listened closely to his mother’s words in his mind.

“It will also confirm once and for all that Stefan will ensure you stay alive. I suspect he will order every one of The Thirteen be tested before today is over to map out the bloodlines.”

“Who all can be linked back to the four original families?”

“I’m not sure. Stefan, William, Jai and myself at the very least and apparently Anna.”

“So, what now?”

“Be vigilant. When the time comes to give your testimony don’t mention your agreement with Stefan. He’ll likely deny it.”

Placing the stopper in the final sample, Meryn declared, “All done. Just need to clean and dress that puncture wound as a precaution.”

With a small bandage wound round Jem’s biceps, the court official escorted them back to the courtroom.

Having re-taken their seats, proceedings continued.

“In your absence, Meryn,” began Jefferson. “The remaining members of The Thirteen discussed the merits of blood profiling before we proceed any further with the trial and agree that we should all provide samples for analysis.”

“Of course,” agreed Meryn calmly. “Testing the blood takes time. I would prefer to test them fully one at a time to minimise the risks of cross-contamination.”

“How much time?” quizzed Stefan.

“Ideally a week per sample.”

“Plus a week to test the samples from Jeremiah?”

“Yes.”

“In that case,” Jefferson concluded. “Proceedings are paused until the January full moon. The Wolf Moon. Everyone must remain with the castle but once we have secured the accused for everyone’s safety, you are free to leave the court chambers. You are not permitted to discuss court proceedings amongst yourselves. Anyone found doing so will appear before The Thirteen to answer to charges of contempt of court.”

There was a low murmur of conversation amongst the assembled witnesses.

“Alessandro. Michael,” called Jefferson. “Please bind Anna to Alessandro once more and move them both to Anna’s cell.”

Standing alone on the castle ramparts on the eve of the full Wolf Moon, Jem shivered. Above him the clear night sky was littered with stars, sparkling like precious jewels. The landscape was blanketed by a recent heavy winter snowfall. It too was sparkling in the icy cold moonlight. He breathed in deeply, enjoying the luxury of the clean fresh air. It might be his last for a while, he thought.

After it’s fourteen-week recess, the dark angel’s trial was due to recommence in the morning.

As he gazed out over the mountains, Jem felt a subtle probe at his mind.

“Good evening, mother,” he thought formally.

“Come to my tower now. I’ll cloak you so no one detects your presence.”

With a sigh, Jem turned his back on the view and headed along the ramparts towards Meryn’s tower. Trusting that his mother’s magic was in place, he walked confidently past several guards before reaching the private spiral staircase that led up to his mother’s study.

Without bothering to knock, he opened the door and walked straight into the room.

“Jeremiah,” she said with a smile. “Take a seat. Wine?”

“Please,” he replied taking a seat opposite her in front of the roaring log fire.

“It’s more blood than wine,” confessed Meryn as she poured two generous goblets. At the same time, she probed his mind to confirm that it was safe to speak.

“Thank you,” replied Jem, accepting the goblet from her. “Fortitude before we return to court?”

“Something like that. I wanted to speak to you before we are separated and sealed back into the courtroom.” She paused. “Tell me again how you met Anna.”

“I first saw her one Halloween. She appeared in the road in front of me when I was out running. She stared at me then flew off. I never saw her again until the following summer. She was waiting for me by a tree when I was out running the trails. She never spoke. She came up close to me. I thought she was going to kiss me but then she vanished. Turned out she had bitten me. Her fang broke and the tip lodged in my neck. Hurt like hell and bled every time I was near her for months. I never saw her for ages then she appeared near the old graveyard one night. Said I was forbidden fruit, and we’d talk soon.”

“Forbidden fruit?”

Jem nodded, “When she’d bitten me, she’d poisoned herself. I never saw her again until spring. I met her at the graveyard. She said we were related by blood. Said it was the bloodline of the man who created her. She offered me a choice. To either become like her or to kill her.”

“Interesting…” mused Meryn. “She was partially correct.”

“Explain,” said Jem, looking at her with a puzzled frown.

“There are two pure bloodlines flowing through Anna. Her own and Tristan’s. When I tested my blood, there was one. When I tested yours, I expected to find three. Anna’s, Tristan’s and my own. I did find three but not the three I was expecting to find. I found Anna’s, Tristan’s and an unknown new bloodline.”

“OK, you’re losing me a bit here, mother.”

“Anna and I are from the same bloodline,” revealed Meryn quietly.

“You’re related?”

“So, it would seem. None of the other members of The Thirteen are from the same one of the four original bloodlines. It would appear our family is weakening as neither Anna nor I have created many new vampires. Tristan’s bloodline is the weaker one within her, despite what she thinks. Ours is the dominant strain.”

“What does this all mean?

“I’m not sure,” Meryn admitted. “But I wanted you to know my findings before I report back to the court tomorrow. It is Tristan’s bloodline that’s tainted with evil. Have you ever felt tempted…”

“Stop right there,” snapped Jem not wanting to hear what she was about to ask.

“Have you?”

“Once,” he confessed. “It was while I was still partially transformed. I didn’t need to hunt then. Anna gave me a blood potion once a week. By the day that I was due to take it I was craving it. One week, the cat scratched my boy. Drew blood. It took all my willpower not to drink from him. I never touched him. I resisted…well, I bit the cat instead and drank from her, but I didn’t kill her.”

“Poor cat.”

“She wasn’t too pleased. When I met Anna that night and told her what had almost happened, she called the rage Rabbia Sanguigna.”

“Of course!” exclaimed Meryn. “How could I have missed it! Rabbia Sanguigna makes sense.”

“It does?”

“Yes,” she stated firmly. “Go! I need to do more research before tomorrow morning.”

Getting to his feet, Jem drained his glass and prepared to leave. “If you need me, I’ll be in my room.”

“I’ll send for you if I need you. In fact, give me another blood sample before you go.”

When Jem was escorted into the courtroom next morning, The Thirteen were already seated at the long, curved table. In the middle of the sacred symbol, Anna stood facing the table, bound by numerous freshly cast enchantments. For a moment, Jem felt sorry for her. Talking about his original meeting with her to his mother had stirred up a lot of memories, some of them better than others. I his heart, Jem knew he still fundamentally cared about Anna despite everything that had happened and all that she stood accused of.

“Court is now in session,” declared Jefferson at nine o’clock on the dot. “I’d like to extend our thanks to all of our assembled witnesses for their patience during the extended recess. I would now call upon Meryn to reveal her findings.”

“Thank you, Jefferson,” said Meryn, getting to her feet. “I have completed my analysis. I’ll try to keep my verbal report simple in the interests of time. I’ve prepared a more detailed written report for each of you. Copies are in front of you.” She paused. “For the benefit of our witnesses, there are four recognised original vampire families whose history can be traced back more than two millennia. Purebloods as we know them can trace their bloodline back to the original families. One of the four families however is on the brink of extinction, for want of a better word. Very few members from this family have married and had children with other purebloods. Members of this family tend to be healers and are less likely by nature to create new vampires. They can be reclusive and are deep thinkers. We’ll call this Family One. When I tested our sister Anna’s blood, I found traces of Family One and Family Three. I tested another of Tristan’s descendants and found Family Three and Family Four. A further descendant revealed Family Three and Family Four. I cannot be one hundred per cent sure with such a small sample group, but it is my belief that Tristan was a mix of Families One and Three but that Three was the dominant bloodline.”

“What about Family Two?” interrupted Alessandro.

“A good point,” acknowledged Meryn. “From the fourteen pureblood samples I analysed, Family Two only ever mixes with Family Two or Four. Intriguing. Something I may study further once this trial is over.”

“You said fourteen,” observed Jean, the French vampire. “But we number only thirteen.”

“My son, Jeremiah, is the fourteenth sample,” reminded Meryn, allowing herself a glance across to where Jem was sitting. “I am from Family One and Jem’s natural father was also from Family One. When I ran the analysis on Jem’s blood, I found something that surprised me. It’s really quite fascinating. He has three different variants of pureblood in his veins.”

“Three? But that’s unheard of!” protested Jefferson.

“It was until now,” Meryn agreed. “The key would lie with Family Three’s weakness for Rabbia Sanguigna. When Anna created Jem, she was unaware of his vampire heritage, as was Jem himself. Jem grew up believing he was mortal. My husband was mortal, and he accepted Jem as his own when we met. I placed an enchantment on my son to quash his vampire blood and traits so that he could live a normal mortal life. This was done with the approval from three members of the Court of Elders.”

“Stefan, is this true?” checked Jefferson.

“Yes. It was approved at the same time we agreed that Meryn could permanently remove her wings. Michael and Alessandro countersigned the decree.”

“Meryn, please continue,” prompted Jefferson, curious to know where this was now leading.

“When Anna created Jem, she completed a partial transformation first. However, even that partial transformation was enough to trigger Rabbia Sanguigna in my son, thanks to the presence of Family Three blood. Anna treated this condition with a mix of enchantments. She also gave Jem a potion, once he had been fully transformed, to delay the growth of his wings. She gave him a potion that was to be injected directly into the wing nubs monthly to curb their development. He followed this routine for twenty-five years. During his monthly ritual, some of the potion entered his bloodstream, permanently altering the composition of his bloodline. It has in effect created a new family. This will only be formally established should Jem have any children with a pureblood who has Family Three in their history.”

“A new pureblood family is an intriguing thought, Meryn. A welcome intriguing thought considering the diminishing Family One population but how does this relate to the charges brought against sister Anna?” commented Jefferson.

“Anna also suffers from Rabbia Sanguigna,” continued Meryn. “Although in her case it causes an inherent loathing for anyone with Family Three blood, including herself I suspect. Family Three blood in mortals has many similarities with one of the rarer mortal blood groups known as O negative. The mortal victims that Anna is accused of killing, especially the children, were all O negative as far as I can determine from their medical records.”

“So, you’re suggesting that Rabbia Sanguigna caused her to lose control and commit those crimes?”

“Yes,” said Meryn simply.

“Interesting analysis. Good work,” praised Jefferson looking thoughtful. “I don’t propose that we remove those breaches of the Golden Rules from the list of charges, but I do advise that we take Meryn’s information into account when reviewing them in due course.”

“May I add something else?” asked Meryn calmly.

“Go on.”

“Family One and Family Three blood in combination is toxic to any other vampire with that blood combination,” Meryn revealed.

“Interesting observation,” nodded Jefferson, looking thoughtful. “So, in conclusion, you are saying that Tristan’s bloodline is not tainted with evil but with the effects of Rabbia Sanguigna?”

“Correct,” replied Meryn. “I believe a court precedent has already been set regarding charges related to Rabbia Sanguigna crimes. As a member of the Court of the Elders, I request that this is taken into account.”

“Duly noted.”

Once again confined to the simple court living quarters and separated from Trine for the foreseeable, Jem lay on his bed staring up at the ceiling mulling over the events of the day. Several witnesses had given evidence after his mother’s revelation about bloodlines, and he knew with each testimony that his turn drew closer. Questions from The Thirteen were short and direct yet he was still anxious at the thought of answering them. In his case, Anna was charged with making him a full vampire against his will but, if he was already a pureblood, how could that charge stick?

A subtle movement of the air in the room brought him back to the present. He looked towards the locked door to see Trine standing there.

“Hey,” he said with a lazy smile. “This is a pleasant surprise.”

“Hey, yourself,” she said as she came to sit on the bed beside him. “I can only stay a minute. I shouldn’t even be here. The Thirteen aren’t allowed to talk to witnesses while the court is convened.”

“I know.”

“I needed to see you,” she said taking his hand in hers. “Your mother has woven a cloaking spell over the chamber, but it will only hold for a few minutes before someone detects it.”

“Is something wrong?”

Trine shook her head as her other hand subconsciously moved to her stomach, “I’m pregnant.”

“Pregnant?”

The ice maiden nodded, “Your mother confirmed it earlier. I’ve not told my father yet. I needed to tell you first.”

“A baby?” he said stunned by the news.

“Yes. Our baby. Our unique baby.”

Suddenly, the penny dropped, “The start of a new pure bloodline?”

Trine nodded.

Beginnings…an explanation

It’s now been a few days since I surprised the world by announcing the release of my first collection of poems.

Huge thanks to those who have already pre-ordered.

To those who may have been a little disappointed that it wasn’t a new novel that I was releasing, I humbly apologise and beg that you are patient with me a little longer.

I’m going to make myself vulnerable here and explain the background to Beginnings. Since last summer, when the Big Green Gummi Bear’s health began to decline, I have struggled with writing Book Baby 8. The creative juices just weren’t flowing and the creative fire became dull embers. My original plan had been that it would be Book Baby 8 that was released on 29th February 2024 but that wasn’t to be. My creative muses apparently had a different plan.

I parked Book Baby 8 for a few weeks late last summer then decided to type up what I had written and see if that triggered a fresh burst of creativity. So for several weeks I typed…. in fact I have over 30 000 words typed up. This helped me to re-connect with the tale but things with the Big Green Gummi Bear weren’t good and the real world had to be prioritised over my creative one for obvious reasons. Family had to come first.

At the start of December 2023 I picked up my pen again and began to make some progress once more….then Christmas hit…. and I stopped again…paused not stopped.

I had signed up to take part in Beth Kempton’s online Winter Writing Sanctuary over the latter part of the festive period. It’s a beautifully gentle way to stoke the creative fires. This year though the sparks it ignited were poetic ones and almost on a whim, I decided at the end of December that I would still self-publish on 29th February 2024 but it would be a collection of poems not prose. Cue a flurry of reviewing over 30 years worth of poems and deciding which ones to include and which to save for another day. Within two weeks, I had the project typed up, formatted, the cover designed ( the photo is one of my own so no licencing issues) and the paperback proof ordered. The speed that this project came together with was scary!

The plans are now all in place. Beginnings will be set free into the world on 29 February 2024.

The creative fires are gradually building and its time once more to pick up my pen and return to Book Baby 8. I might actually treat myself to a new pen in the hope that the words flow easier from it. (Weird writer quirk…just humour me on that)

With a bit of luck and a lot of self-discipline, I will have Book Baby 8 ready to release later this year. Wish me luck!

In the meantime, if you want to pre-order Beginnings, here’s the links

Beginnings – a collection of poems – Kindle edition by McCallum, Coral. Literature & Fiction Kindle eBooks @ Amazon.com.

Beginnings – a collection of poems eBook : McCallum, Coral: Amazon.co.uk: Kindle Store

There will be a paperback edition available in a few weeks.

New release coming 29 February 2024- Beginnings

My first collection of poems, Beginnings, will be published on 29 February 2024. This is a collection of poems that I have written over many years.  Many of them have appeared on my blog over the past ten years. Now felt like the right time to bring them all together in one small volume. (And of course, 29th February is too unique a date not to publish on – Yes, I’m weird about dates)

Beginnings is now available for pre-order worldwide for Kindle. Here’s the links

Beginnings – a collection of poems – Kindle edition by McCallum, Coral. Literature & Fiction Kindle eBooks @ Amazon.com.

Beginnings – a collection of poems eBook : McCallum, Coral: Amazon.co.uk: Kindle Store

There will be a paperback edition available in a few weeks.

Finding My Space

Over the past ten days or so, I have been attending an online Winter Writing Sanctuary hosted by the beautiful Beth Kempton. This is the second year I have brought the creative new year in within the sanctuary. For me, it’s a nice way to ease into the year ahead’s creative pursuits.

A few days into the course, the daily lesson centred around “building a space”. I thought I would share my short essay response to that lesson with you here-

Oh, where to begin! That’s a question I’ve asked myself many times over the past nine weeks since my husband passed away.

There are so many “spaces” in my life that need to be built or re-modelled. It’s a daunting prospect some days.

The whole dynamic of day-to-day life has shifted forever. Even though I’ve known for over three years that this shift was approaching, it still hit hard, bringing with it a veritable maelstrom of emotions that are still swirling around me.

The “space” that I feel I lost entirely in those early days of grief was my space in the world. I felt as though I didn’t know where I belonged anymore. Wearing this “Blue Peter” badge saying “widow”, I felt as though I had been cast into a void. I’ll be totally honest I still feel that way a lot of the time. I felt that I’d lost my very identity. Watching someone you love die changes a person forever. Who was I now? I’m still figuring that one out.

Friends would message in the first week or two after the funeral to say that they were thinking about the kids and I but were giving me “space” to get my head together. “Space” alone in my head was in fact the last thing that I needed! Left in my own mind, I kept mulling everything over and over, reliving every heartbreaking moment spent in the local hospice. I kept panicking about whether I was being strong enough for my kids. I was worrying about whether they are ok or not. I still am on that one. True they are both adults in their twenties, but their dad was the first person that they had ever lost. I fretted about whether I was really ok. Even on days where I felt more like myself for a few brief hours and felt I had my shit together, I’d panic that I wasn’t being honest with myself. It was in those early days that I really would have appreciated an invite to go for a coffee or a walk, but I accept that everyone else is busy with their lives too. The world keeps turning.

Then there’s the physical “space” around me. The house needs to change to become “my home” rather than “our home”. There are DIY projects that need to be organised that have gone ignored for years while we travelled the journey that was my husband’s illness. I wrote a list…well, three lists- big, medium and small DIY projects. Big projects need a professional. Medium ones need an extra pair of “handy” hands. Small ones I should be able to tackle alone or so the theory goes. Time will tell on that. It’s a lengthy list but in time I’ll get through it. First on the list is my leaking conservatory roof.

I’ll tell you a quick story. In the early days after my husband’s death, the house was transformed into a florist’s shop. The main issue with that was that most of my vases were lining the conservatory windowsills catching drips. The solution – all the bouquets of white flowers were put into those vases then placed back on the windowsill. Voila! Self-watering flowers that in actual fact lasted for weeks.

Other rooms in the house needed attention too. There were belongings to be packed away, thrown away or donated to charity. It was an emotional task … Maybe I’m nesting in a way, but I need to reclaim the physical “space” as my own, while not wiping out all of the past. It’s a delicate balance that needs to be struck.

I’m trying to look at my home for the past twenty years as though it were a new house and I’m just moving in. It’s hard, emotionally hard, but I accept that I need to go through the pain of these changes to heal from the loss.

I need to reclaim my creative “space” and my creative time. Working from home at the day job in the same space that I try to create my book babies in in the evenings is challenging. As time moved on from 2020’s Lockdown but I was still working from home full-time due largely to my husband’s illness, it became harder and harder to separate the two. Now that I’ve had a few weeks away from the day job, I’ve reclaimed the creative “space”. The creative fires are still small embers, but they are gradually burning brighter. I’m on the eve of returning to the day job as I write this, but I am also on the verge of relocating my “day job” space to the upstairs study. That “space” has been dominated by my late husband for the past few years. It was his “bat cave”. I still struggle to spend time in the room, but I know in my heart that I have to move beyond that. I’m slowly, piece by piece, endeavouring to make that “space” my own. The new curtains were a huge step forward. It’ll take time, lots of time, and there’s no rush but I will migrate upstairs for work and reserve my downstairs desk for creative purposes.

It’s a Leap Year. For a while I’ve said:

2023 was the year to be free.

2024 is the year to restore.

2025 will be the year to thrive.

So, the plan, the cunning plan, is to build these new “spaces” both internal and external over the coming year. It will be far from easy, but I will get there one small space at a time. I really don’t have any choice.

Beginnings – an acrostic poem

Breathe…it’ll be ok

Each new day another step forwards

Go cautiously. Go boldly. Just GO!

Insecurities running riot within

Nothing to be gained by looking backwards

New life adventures lie ahead

Initial fears scream in my head

Noise I don’t need to listen to

Girl, you’ve got this

Stride out towards the sun

image sourced via Google – credits to the owner