I’m From

I am from home-made dresses with matching knickers, from a Singer sewing machine and a Fylde guitar. I am from singing in the car and making-it-yourself. From winter-warmers and slippers turned to slingshots and there’ll-be-tears-before-bedtime. I am from half-an-hour-late-for-everything and if-you-can’t-be-good-be-brilliant.

I am from Boulton and Fletcher and Evans and Schofield. From teaching, computing, chemistry, chair-making, retailing, cobbling and mining. From talking, not-talking, shouting, baking, knitting, laughing, arguing, forgiving, playing, teasing and loving. From Sellotape Annie and Agatha. From Wembalina, Our Margaret and Jim. I am from 15 in a bungalow at Christmas and are-you-still-in-the-bathroom?

I am from talking late into the night and still having more to say in the morning. From knowing from the first kiss. I am from holding hands even though we’re married. I am from 4 months without sleep, more-milk-please-Mama and mornings in pyjamas playing hide-and-seek. From don’t-put your-bottom-in-the-dishwasher-darling and ask-Daddy-if-you-want-a-kitten.

I am from the smell of wet canvas and wellies. From crablines and lilo-lympics. From 3-and-in and snail farms and how-many-times-must-you-be-told-not-to-roller-skate-in-the-house. I’m from beneath the diamond sky, silhouetted by the sea and from frosted fields of juniper and lamplight.  I am from Allendale and Snowdonia and Caledonia and Santiago Bay.

I am from soft Staffordshire clay and ancient Welsh slate. I am from fearing what might happen next. From trying to be someone else for someone else. From learning daily that by the Grace of God I am what I am and His Grace to me is not without effect. I am from Psalm 139; I’m going to Revelation 21. I’d like to pass through Proverbs 31:10-31 on the way.

I am from Tunstall, Fegg Hayes, Haddenham, Aberystwyth, Yokohama and Bury St Edmunds. From egg and chips, oatcakes, welsh cakes and kaitenzushi. I am from fluvioglacial geomorphology, what would Jesus do, gouchisousamadeshita, and that thing our Evelyn said about your Frank at our Tommy’s funeral.



Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s