But she’s fierce and fast and tenacious and so she’s selected. Number 842 is attached to the front of her red Medway vest with borrowed...

The scattered kids of rural Kent hop from foot to foot down lanes: hanging heads over bridges to throw Pooh sticks into babbling brooks....

Poem by Sarah Hehir

This girl, this English nurse, flings her flaming hair over the bath and sings. We laugh – we, who were born to be Dovedale mothers and...

The grandchildren wait – old enough to accept that a last breath is death and yet…and yet. The sun is hot. Not just hot, it’s Greek-beach...