Jeni Barnett

I put the radio on. 6.00a.m Weather forecasts, news bulletins, round and round it went until 8.15. I left the house and drove to the Memorial Hospital. The sun so bright I accidentally parked in two different bays. A young woman unlocked the automatic doors. I had been told to arrive for 8.35. At 9.00 … Read more

2 hot water bottles, one dressing gown, no sleep and a body depleted from dialysis. I was in bed, I sucked on two rescue remedy gummies with magnesium, but still no sleep. I slid down stairs. Hungry but can’t face food. It’s nearly 5.00a.m. I’ll crawl upstairs and try again….. I lay on my back, … Read more

The café was rammed. Young mothers in leggings, babies is hoodies, elderly gentleman in anoraks and me. I sat next to the log burner. The flames swirling behind the door. I sat with my back to the heat. It was comforting. Two women asked if they could share the table. They sat opposite me. This … Read more

In 1993 I was 44, the old git was 50 and the dawter was 6. The 90’s a time of touring, time out and childrens’ birthday parties The word on the street was that Kelly the Clown was the childrens’ entertainer of choice. We booked her. Ghyll Road, at the top of the town, had … Read more

Last Saturday I hobbled up the path to St.Mary’s Church in Glyned. Six stunning stained glass windows, old pews full of young people and their children, and a bride and groom dressed in white. I’ve known them since they were kids. I balanced on me walking stick as the hip vicar juggled their rings and … Read more

I haven’t said thank you to the kindness of my neighbours. I haven’t said thanks to the kindness of the young ones in my life. I haven’t said thank you to my own flesh and blood. I didn’t say thank you to the old git. I get consumed with guilt at not being kind enough … Read more

The sun hangs low in September. The Michaelmas Daisies have bloomed. Mushrooms have sprouted on the lawn and the conkers are forming. I live in-between two other cottages. Mr. Fenner, the blacksmith, resided in all three, over the centuries it morphed onto 1, The Forge, 2 the middle cottage and number 3 a modern development … Read more

Pathetic Fallacy is when a writer gives human feelings or characteristics to things that aren’t human – usually the weather, or parts of nature like trees or the wind. Think of it as nature sharing the feelings of the characters, or reflecting what’s happening inside them. It’s NOT simply describing the weather; it’s about the … Read more

Season of mists and mellow white socks. Autumn, as a child, spoke of shiny shoes and possibilities. Walking to school, kicking shiny brown conkers and sucking blackberries off the bushes. The smell of soft leather and the excitement of a new beginning. Today I had a sense of autumn, when the rain came there was … Read more

When I was on the radio I didn’t know how I felt until I heard my voice. Any opening salvo required me to listen to myself. I often surprised myself. Even if I felt sludgy my voice revealed something different. There was a lightness of touch. I would breathe. There was some humour I breathed … Read more