Little Fluffy Clouds

Thursday 5th August

This is my first whole day away from the children in nine months. It’s supposed to be for writing but I have such a backlog of admin and odd jobs to do that I took my computer to Harlow library and sorted a few things out. On the internet I organised Chloe’s hen night and wedding present, and then I replied to a bunch of emails from nurseries as part of my continuing mission to research childcare and a nursery education. At this stage I did not mention that we roam the waterways like wanton water gypsies, but just mentioned our winter mooring in Angel, Islington. A brief internet search on ‘travellers rights’ confirms that every child is entitled to a nursery education, but in practice it helps if you are based in one area.

Being a writer is a wonderful existence so far. I half jog, half walk to ‘work’ down the beautiful meandering towpath of the navigation. My ‘office’ at the moment is Harlow library. The feeling of satisfaction that I get from typing up my notes, researching and checking facts, editing and rewriting makes me feel whole and completely alive. I know that my soul passionately wants me to write during my short time on this earth, even though my body prioritised my yearning to mate and raise children before the needs of my soul. To get home after a good day’s writing, I catch the last bus to Roydon, which leaves at 4.25pm. By 4.40pm I’m in a cosy corner of the White Hart with my lap top. The barmaid brings a cup of coffee with a miniature foil-wrapped chocolate to my table. The pub is cosy, quiet and quaint. There is a fresh flower in the vase on my table. I type happily for the last half hour of my working day, before striding across the level crossing and up the towpath towards Hunsdon Mead to get home. The only minor drawback is that my current writer’s salary is zero! This will have to change if I’m going to keep raising those children.

This evening we took our deckchairs, dinner and wine down into the field and discussed our family’s options for the future, and little fluffy clouds. The field is good, but we concluded that what is really important is how much sky you can see over the field.
“What were the skies like when you were young?
...the most beautiful skies as a matter of fact....purple and red and yellow, on fire...
You might still see them in the desert.”
(Little Fluffy Clouds, The Orb)