Fi Phillips

"The meadow in which he sat spread away before him in a carpet of muted greens, blues and pinks, a mix of colours he had never seen in grasses. The clover was white, but touched with crimson spots. The meadow dropped downwards into a sprawling valley which rose again miles distant in a wall of mountains that formed a dark barrier against the sky-line. Behind him, the trees of a forest loomed blackly against a mountain slope. Trailers of mist hung over everything." from Magic Kingdom For Sale/Sold by Terry Brooks "By now the whole of downtown Morpork was alight, and the richer and worthier citizens of Ankh on the far bank were bravely responding to the situation by feverishly demolishing the bridges. But already the ships in the Morpork docks - laden with grain, cotton and timber - were blazing merrily and, their moorings burnt to ashes, were breasting the river Ankh on the ebb tide, igniting riverside palaces and bowers as they drifted like drowning fireflies towards t...

A friend recently pointed out Tumblr to me. It's a name that I've heard now and then but have never really paid much attention to. In essence, it's a hosting platform for microblogs where you can share photographs, text, music, links, videos and basically anything you'd include in a normal blog. So here is my Tumblr blog - What I see, what I hear, what I am . Let me know what you think.

Over the last couple of weeks, I've noticed that magazines and newspapers have started running their 'summer reading' recommendations. Although I love to see what new books crop up on these lists, my hackles always slightly stir. Once again we're persuaded to spend money and add to, if not our bookshelves, then our e-collection of stories. What's wrong with the stories we know and  the books that we own? I'm no angel when it comes to literature lust (the need to buy yet another new title even though you know you have unread novels on your shelves) but I don't have money to throw at my local bookseller. I'm sure I'm not alone in this. This summer, I will be looking to my bookshelves for unread titles and old favourites that I can easily return to. I'll also be visiting my local library (which for the holidays has been relocated to a Portakabin due to building works - I see that visit turning into another blog post in itself). Finally, as mum to ...

Image via Wikipedia When I was a child, my family would often holiday in Scotland and particularly in the town where my father was brought up. I remember very little of the town itself but there are certain things that remain with me. Firstly, outside a large cafe was a statue of a golden retriever. It was life size and probably made of some kind of resin as it was coloured like the dog it was meant to represent. Over the years, it was 'borrowed' by local drunks on a regular basis, even ending up in the loch now and then. Secondly, our landlady Mrs Mackay would always serve massive breakfasts (fried sausage slices, tatty scones, fried eggs, bacon, sausage, fried bread) and finish it off with toast and jam. As part of the table setting, there was a ceramic jam pot shaped like a beehive with a bee handle and a matching slender spoon. I can remember taking great pleasure in helping myself to the contents and being told not to play with the lid by my mother. Thirdly, my fathe...