-... .-. .- .. -. -.. .- -. -.-. .


A conversation I had with my daughter on the weekend, blew my mind at the time, and is still giving me food for thought. It went a little like this:
We were talking about why Pilates is called Pilates, I was explaining it was the surname of the chap who invented the method. I then was talking about the same man being used as a model for anatomy books. She asked what anatomy was, I explained. went on about drawings of bodies without the skin on, but not just a skeleton.
I then was telling her about people who give their bodies to medical science after dying, she said she did not fancy that, that she was going to be buried. I told her that I was being cremated, that I wanted to become a wisp of particles released back into the atmosphere. She looked me right in the eye, and smiled with her clear steady eyes, then said, don't worry mummy, I will make sure you get what you want, and I will have the music you want played. And with that she held my hand, and smiled a ageless smile. She is Nine. I love her.


  1. your blog is beautiful and wonderful.

    i can't wait to see the images and stories that unfold.

    she is nine. daughter of the lovely she-wolf.


Discombobulated correlation for all like minded braindancers

My photo
Musings, reflections, observations, lovely clothes, food, books, art and the total assimilation parenthood creates.