Jeni Barnett

I failed maths GCE. I failed it again. I failed it the third time figuring a protractor would not be needed in my chosen profession. I can’t Sudoku. I count on the fingers of both hands when paying for groceries. And yet somehow I manage to do the accounts every month – using a calculator … Read more

The pathetic fallacy of the weather reflecting our mood is playing out in my garden. The leaves on my apples trees drip with rain. My geraniums and begonias are drooping. There is a quiet sadness. The cat comes in his fur soaking wet. Children have snotty noses and our bathroom feels cold. The heating is … Read more

Walking back from the Post Office I tripped on an acorn. Sitting in the front garden an acorn, the size of a ping pong ball, landed on my head. Trudging round the farm I stamped on a snail, bent down to apologise only to find it was another acorn surrounded by even more acorns. This … Read more

In The Telegraph’s list of Britain’s 54 poshest villages, Ightham has been selected as the county’s poshest. The village has Ightham Moat a medieval country house which is surrounded by flower gardens and a vegetable patch. There are dahlias and apple trees, ponds and the medieval house. We looked around the sparkling moat, the sun … Read more

The alarm went off at 6.00. The old git had inadvertently set it and the American woman repeatedly told me it was 6.0’clock/6.0’clock/ 6 0’clock/6 0’clock So I got up. Brushed my teeth according to my Swedish hygienist. Washed my face according to my Swedish face gel And brushed my hair according to years of … Read more

I actually had a proper dream last night. I was on board a boat throwing a party. There was a pile of presents waiting to be opened, guests – including my ex floor manager – kept arriving. ‘Alright Now’ was blaring out of the speakers and I was having a good time. I decided not … Read more

I had a dream. Not like Martin Luther King, more like Martin Scorsese, it was filmic in its unfolding. My Great Aunty Becky was lying in a bed in the London Hospital on Whitechapel Road. I loved her. She painted her nails, always visited with a string bag full of goodies, and when she died … Read more

Hastings came up – it’s Thursday – so we went to the ‘SOUTH COAST’ book, my co-habité closed his eyes and flicked the pages until I shouted STOOOOP. It stopped on page 73 – Ditchling ‘The Arts and Crafts Museum’, a mere 30 minutes away. So after a walk round the houses, where we talked … Read more

July 22nd The master of the house is outside using his new hedge cutter and extendable saw. Makes me cry, seeing the roses and pear tree fall to the ground. I dont mind about all the other greenery BUT my heart breaks watching flowers hit the deck Jane,our horticultural neighbour, with the best garden in … Read more

I met the old git during the last heat wave. 1976, Leeds Playhouse, several of us actaws sat by a wall discussing the very play we would be performing. ENGLAND EXPECTS, written by Gavin Richards and performed by the members of Belt and Braces Roadshow in all their sweaty glory. We were in our late … Read more