# 221: Stairway to Heaven?

In my mother's house, the house where I was born and grew up. Much has changed. In my mind's eye, I can still see the narrow patterned second-hand stair carpet, dark green background: after some years Dad re-laid it the other way round so the risers became the treads and vice versa.

This b/w conversion hi-lights the wear pattern on the stairs, I've noticed my Mum goes up and down stairs an awful lot.

When is a dining room not a dining room...? When no-one eats in there. Long story.

# 215: Echoes of my childhood

I walked with my daughter through fields where I once walked as a girl, passed a filled in pond that had once been home to frogs and sticklebacks, crossed the treeline where once was fence and style, and surveyed the open vista of grass where bike and ball and tag were order of the day for me in the days of seemingly endless blue sky summers...

This was once The Horses' Field, Tosca and the other one... can't remember its name, but remember regularly going to the fence and grabbing handfuls of lush long grass and offering it on flattened palm to the horses. I don't remember when they left, or when the fence was taken down, I guess I was busy being grown up.