Fi Phillips

 On Tuesday, 27th November I will be taking part in the Small Kindnesses Blogsplash and writing out a special small kindness someone paid me in the past. Would you like to join me? The Blogsplash is organised by Fiona Robyn to celebrate the release of her novel 'Small Kindnesses' which will be free on Kindle on the day. All you have to do is write something about being kind - a memory of someone who was kind to you, a list of kindnesses over the past week, or something kind you did for someone else. It'll be a celebration of kindness in all its forms, especially those little kind acts that make all the difference. You can find more details here .

Today I'm taking part in a blogsplash titled 'My Most Beautiful Thing'. It was inspired by Fiona Robyn's new book, The Most Beautiful Thing . You can find more information on the blogsplash here . When I started to think about what 'my most beautiful thing' could be, I found my mind travelling along many branches of thought. Some ended in sawn off stumps. Others furled out and and onwards into a narrowing path which reached further into the sky than I could see. All of them had merit but none of them alone were right. I have my mother's silver locket which holds photographs of her parents and her grandmother. I have a book of important dates, a gift from my great grandfather Alfred to his future wife. I have my extensive collection of photographs, online and in albums, that stretches back a hundred years. There's my engagement ring, a circular diamond in a plain setting that speaks to me more of eternity and harmony than bling and money. There's ...

What is your most beautiful thing? On Tuesday, 24th April, I'm taking part in a blogsplash to celebrate beautiful things, inspired by Fiona Robyn's new novel, The Most Beautiful Thing . People all over the world will be blogging, tweeting and writing about their most beautiful thing. You could post a photo or write a piece of prose about your most beautiful thing. Perhaps it's a piece of artwork or a memory. It's completely up to you. If you'd like to be included in the list of bloggers who are taking part, Writing Our Way Home are compiling a directory. They'll also repost their favourite entries on their blog over the following month. If you'd like to join in, email fiona@writingourwayhome.com for more details. That's not me, by the way.

Last night, we took down our Christmas tree and packed all the festive decorations away. It's a task that always makes me sad because it marks the end of the holiday. The child in me loves the glitter and pretty lights but my adult self realises that we need the space and normality. My husband has returned to work, the children are back at school and the Christmas tree is in the attic. This time of year, when the decorations are down, the weather is grey and our purses are empty, life can appear drab and a chore. Many of us will have put on a few pounds over the festive break. Without the decorations, our homes may seem rather plain. It can all feel as if there's nothing within reach to look forward to, which is exactly the time when a bit of imagination can work wonders. The first thing you need to do is work out what it is you miss about the Christmas holiday. Is it the colour and sparkle? Is it the chance to dress up? Do you love the opportunity to see absent friends and...

Today I'm starting the new year with a writing challenge, well, actually more of a writing treat. I've previously told you about the writing practice of small stones and the Writing Our Way Home website. To quote one of the site's creators, Fiona Robyn, "A small stone is a very short piece of writing that precisely captures a fully-engaged moment". The WOWH peeps (Fiona and Kaspa) are holding the River throughout January 2012. In essence, the challenge is to write a small stone each day of the month. You can share your small stones on the WOWH site or on your own blogs. If you'd like to find out more about the challenge and join in, you can read about it  here . Inside Inside, we wrap our hearts in this warm silence, savouring the time together before the return to normal, outside.