I’ve felt low on energy since having Covid earlier this month. I craved an infusion of sparkle while my children were here with their partners over Christmas. I felt guilt for having such intense fatigue in both my body and my mind, and struggled to fully emerge from my boring foggy fug.

Yet my lack of sparkle somehow heightened the experience of being with my family during those few days, wrapping it in muffled softness as we walked along the Catalunya coast in the sunshine.

And then my babies were gone, back to their lives, leaving me with softly sparkling memories and a smidgeon of nostalgia.

A little ache. Okay, a medium sized ache…

So…the first thing I did this morning was sign up for Beth Kempton’s Winter Writing Sanctuary - I was literally still in bed when I remembered its existence and pressed the button to participate. I’ve been reading her essays on Substack, and in a world filled with agression and anger and violence and insanity, I’m craving softness and wonder, empathy, kindness and connection.

And can I please get a very large side order of silliness, giddiness and fun?

Beth encouraged me to go outside and write a Haiku, which initially made me sigh a little, and puff out my cheeks, because it sounded limiting and formal, and what I really wanted to do was run around and let rip, and besides, how could being formal and attempting to write poetry possibly be fun?

Nevertheless, I sat quietly on the terrace and observed. And heard a muffled guzzling among the pink cyclamen, realised what it was, and smiled. Then I wrote:

“A chubby bee boogies

Into pink winter nectar

Happy just to be.”

I wrote two others, too, but I like this one the best. Because I’m hoping to boogie into a little pink winter nectar at a party tonight. And who cares if it’s not perfect Haiku, because it was fun!

Thank you, Beth Kempton!

Happy New Year, everyone!

Thank you so much for reading my book, as well as my little bits and pieces. It means far more than you could possibly imagine.

Lots of love,

Francesca xxx