Gran in her Bed

My grandson calls me ‘Gran in her bed.’ It worried me at first, images of old grannies like Little Red Riding Hood’s came to mind. I hoped he knew it wasn’t because I was sick, or old, not that at all. His mother, my daughter, would Facetime, before she left for work. I was never prepared. One of the delights of letting go of show, letting go of routine, letting go of jobs and tasks, meant I could get up slow, go and get a cuppa or two, return to bed in the morning. Taking my time suited me fine. ‘Gran in her bed’

JUDE CASSON

Twelve Words on the Final Cut of the Cord

Hormone clash ascendant teen flies away Patched tigress helicopters home weeping pearls