The human body is the best work of art…

“The human body is the best work of art.”

― Jess C. Scott

Jess felt like she had been holding her breath for an age. Her breath, her tummy, her neck elongated. Every part of her body felt burning hot and screaming at her to move.

But she needed the money. This was easy money, she told herself. Sit still for a couple of hours in an awkward pose. Just breathe. The artist had told her to breathe in deeply and then breathe out slowly. But I can hardly breathe, she thought. Perhaps it was the hot air. There seemed to be so little air movement in the room.

“John…” she said, her voice quivering. She hated to interrupt him.


“John, I…”

The thud that followed seemed to echo around the room. Pushing his canvas to one side, John rushed over.

“Jess! Oh god.” He took his phone from his back pocket and began to tap in the numbers for an ambulance but the bleeping seemed to cause her to stir.


“Jess, are you okay?” He gathered some cushions and slid one carefully under her head.

“I’m fine, maybe just a bit of water?”

“Of course.” Within seconds, John had been across the room to the sink and retrieved what happened.

“I’m so sorry, John.” Her cheeks flushed. “I remember feeling hot and then, I’m not sure”

“No worries at all, Jess. Do you feel well enough to pose again or do you want to go home for the day?”

The thought of all the bills mounting up flashed through Jess’s eyes.

“No, no. I’ll finish” But as she got to her feet, she wobbled again slightly.

“Listen, Jess. Why don’t you lie back on that couch?”

“No, no. You need to finish your sketch.”

“I do, but Jess, you are so beautiful, I can draw you in any position. Why don’t you lie down for a while and we can pick up the other one another day. Perhaps a day which isn’t so warm?”

She smiled. Gratitude filled her flushed face.

“Thanks John.” John nodded and after a few alterations, he was soon busy behind his easel again.

Knowing she could make her bill payments, Jess finally relaxed. As John looked in her direction, his heart fluttered, he thought she had never looked so beautiful.

Many, many moons ago. Whilst I was a student, I modelled for several life drawing classes. I am curvy, pale, with wild red hair, not the person you would usually typecast to be a life model I am sure. To begin with, I was so nervous, but the class teacher was so lovely, the artists were all so kind, often showing me their works after, that despite the fact I was doing it for the money, I learned quite a lot about body confidence. Before long I was calm and natural (I hope!) and actually enjoyed the experience.

“The human body is the best work of art.”

Originally written in response to:

Much Love.


Dinner Time…

I’ve donned the apron and the cap.

Added a bit of this and a bit of that

A touch of sugar, a pinch of spice

Time to rustle up something nice

Piping hot, let’s eat straight away,

My family look at the plate with dismay,

“Shall we just order takeaway?”

After a good dinner, one can forgive anybody, even one’s own relations. – Oscar Wilde

In my family, my gran is the best cook. I am… well…in my mind, adequate. I quite like to cook but I don’t follow recipes to the letter, and I will swap out objects for what I have available, sometimes that works very effectively other times, it can be a bit of a disaster. My husband is the opposite, he stubbornly follows recipes to the letter. Normally I am juggling, cooking, cleaning, shopping, work, childcare, etc, so I am happy to make do with what is at hand.

Who does the best cooking in your house?

Are you a recipe follower or an improviser?

Originally written for:

Much Love.


Intelligence Is Really A Kind of Taste…

How had she got here? Her mother always told her she had the worst taste in men. So she had decided to try something new, so here she was.

She sat across the table listening. Listening… Listening…

Don’t glance at the clock, don’t glance at the clock.

3 Minutes left. Dammit, you glanced at the clock. 3 more minutes being harangued by this guy.

She nodded politely. Took another sip. Another guy with no interesting properties she could quantify.

Why was she doing this to herself?

Blimey, they loved the sound of their voice, didn’t they?


Thank god.

She glanced at the next guy approaching.

“Hi there.”


“Do you want to tell me a bit about yourself?”

“Well, I am Jack,” taps his name badge. “Which is the perfect name as people would refer to me as a jack of all trades.”

Nervous chuckle.

“Oh, that’s interesting, in what way?”

“I’m currently looking into creating a new app that will help low-cost families, it searches the supermarkets’ deals for that week and creates the lowest cost menu for them.”

“Wow, that doesn’t really sound jack of all trades.”

“Well, I’m also gathering together a team of savvy elders who are putting together old-style hints and tips to help the next generation.”

“Wow. That’s impressive, makes my life seem pretty boring. All I do is go to work and come home.”

“Oh, I never asked, what do you do?”

“Oh, I am just a software engineer.”

“Really, you might be just the person I am looking for actually. I do have some software algorithms I’m struggling to figure out.”

“Erm..” she paused.

“You would be helping people and… well, it would be a good way to get to know each other.”


Oh no.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

He smiled and ticked his sheet as she ticked hers.

Maybe she’d finally figured out what she wanted her taste in men to be… and maybe her mother would give her some peace at last.

Intelligence is really a kind of taste: taste in ideas

Originally written in response to:

  • Ragtag Daily Prompt – Peace
  • Fandango’s One-Word Challenge – Harangue

Much Love.


Time to travel

Suitcase packed
Tickets in hand
Ready to head off
To distant lands

Packing is done
The kids were no help
The dog bounces round
With a triumphant yelp

Weather checked
Adjustments made
Won’t let the weather
Ruin our day

Excitement mounting
Taxi due
Ready to see
Somewhere new

Horn from outside
We make a quick dash
Thrusting suitcases
Into the boot with a crash

The laden car lurches forward
With questionable stability
We glance at each other
Is this a liability?

Then over the horizon
Just out of reach
We finally get a view
Of that wonderful beach

Family together
Precious time
These are the memories
That will live in our minds

Originally written in response to:

Much Love.


To feel loved…

His alarm pounds noisily yet he struggles to rouse himself. So, I nudge his arm and he groans, stretches out and turns the noisy contraption off. He rolls back towards me and smiles. He reaches out his arm, scoops me towards him, pulling me in from a warm snuggly hug. Morning beautiful.

I appear downstairs after getting washed and dressed, on the side is a hot cuppa waiting for me.

A note sits on the sideboard.

Dog walked, bins put out. Enjoy your day x

And I did.

This week’s prompt for WQW was love/romance. I had so many romantic tales I started to write, indeed it would seem so simple to live vicariously through some epic love saga. But I was a bit perplexed, something held me back and I realised for me the most romantic gestures my husband do are the small ones. The day to day things that make you feel loved, a snuggle, a cuppa, a message with a kiss.

Sadje’s WDYS post this week is about things you would like to do before you die/go to that yonder side and mine are generally travel-related, places I’d love to go, things I’d love to see, but I think primarily it would be for my husband to know just how much I love him and just how happy he makes me.

Originally written in response to:

·  WQW – Romance and Love

·  Sadje’s What Do You See – Before I die

Before I die

·  Your Daily Word prompt – Yonder

·  Ragtag Daily Prompt Perplexed

·  Fandango’s One-Word Challenge Vicariously

Much Love.


I Write For…

“When she was doing other things—schoolwork, chores, exercising—Madi had to work to keep herself interested. Writing was the opposite. Finishing a blog always left her more ‘full’ than empty.”

― Danika Stone

I write for myself,
I write for my pleasure,
I write to create
Something I can treasure.

I write to have been
I write to be seen
I write to meet others
Whose knowledge I can glean

I write for expression,
I write to escape,
I write to explore
The ever-changing landscape

I write as my passion,
I write to feel free,
I write to show the world
A little piece of me.

When you enjoy what you do, work becomes play. Martin Yan

Why do you write?

My friend Hui told me the greeting for Chinese New Year is “Gong Hei Fat Choy” (apologies if I have got that wrong) which I think translates to something like “wishing you prosperity”. So to all those beginning the Chinese New Year Celebrations for the Year of the Tiger, I wish you prosperity.

Originally written in response to:

Much Love.


Life is an Adventure

Last week, I took my little guy on an adventure. As we become more mature, it’s very easy for our lives to become more prosaic. My journey didn’t quite go to plan but in an odd way, it still captured my heart.

Akiane Kramarik eyes of a child quote

Mama’s Day:

  • Train arrived 5 mins late
  • Train then broke down – 39 minutes late
  • Missed transfer
  • Had 4 minutes to quickly get on the next transfer, hauling bags, buggy and slow-moving small human across a crowded and unfamiliar train station.
  • Wait 30 mins for a bus in the dark
  • Heard Blippi sing “I’m an Excavator” song in abundance (and refusing to quit playing in my head, long into the night)

LJs Day:

  • Got to see loads of trains at the train station then got on one!
  • Train started going backwards and the driver kept speaking over the tannoy.
  • Got to see loads more trains at another station.
  • Got to eat sandwiches and a gingerbread man.
  • Got to watch Blippi.
  • Watched Mama puff and pant her way across a train station, although not impressed she didn’t let me put the train ticket through the twirly machine.
  • Another train – woohoo.
  • Got to see loads of buses at the bus stop, even double-decker ones!
  • A bus ride in the dark.
  • Got to stay up way past bedtime.

Snuggled up in our quilt at bedtime about to drift off to sleep, he told me he’d had the best train day ever 😁

Summary: See the world through the eyes of a toddler! ❤

Pure Joy! Mama and LJ at the Train Station

Originally written in response to:

Sadje’s – WDYS Prompt #118

Much Love.