About The Ragged Edge

I am a short Cornish-Welsh woman who reached 50 in December 2008. Just remember, you will also be there soon enough. Even though you think it is yonks and yonks away, believe me, it is not. Luckily, it’s just a number; a man-made construct of chronology. For me, it doesn’t exist. In my mind, I am 23.

What I do: feed my kids, do their laundry, ignore housework as far as I am able, write short stories, journal artily, read tarot, listen to Esther Hicks, email (a lot), internet research, accounts work, reflexology, home-educate aforementioned children, read and investigate new forms of sarcasm. Some of that stuff I do because I love to do it, some because I can earn money at it and some because I have to. It is not possible to ignore kids demanding food although I have tried.

So, I have decided to add to the above list with a blog. It has been coming on for some time. Again, it’s one of those things that I have tried to ignore but, you know, “a life not worth recording is not worth living, ” or something like that. I bet bloggers all over the Universe have used *that* one! Any old excuse. Anyway, here I am, one-short-person, blogging.

**The poem on the left was sent to me by a wonderful girl I met via eBay. We started chatting after I bought a big box of art bits from her (some of which are in use in the journal currently featured), then out of the blue she sent me a gorgeous hand-crafted, embroidered wristband with Stonehenge on it. This parchment was in the box.**

Where the wild roses grow

And the shadows fly

Where the sweet thyme blows

And the cobwebs lie

Where the moonshine glows

And the firefly…

Where the willow weeps tears of diamond

And the oak bleeds pearls of dew

I have often dreamed there…

Have you?