Hello, I'm Kate - welcome to my little house.  If you've just dropped by and don't want to plough through the archive to find out what this space is about and who I am, then consider this my little introduction. 

Firstly, I started this blog to integrate two of my favourite things: writing and taking photographs. I have a camera in my hand most days. As well as choosing to document the little things of daily life, I find the process of photographing frequently sparks a memory or train of thought that I may pursue in writing - and vice versa. What I write about is pretty wide-ranging, but poetry, books, food, art, music and making things can all be found lying around in here. 

Formerly immersed in the world of the sixteenth century, I find myself immersed instead in the world of a young child and all that goes with family life. It's inevitable that my reflections on being a mother and a wife, and some of the patterns of our lives, weave in and out. 

The title of the blog was partly inspired by a quote * from the poet Charles Simic, who described poetry as being like a little house: one fills it with interesting things and hopes someone will come in. So I choose to furnish this space with those things that I love to do, and to think about, and to talk about. But the title also alludes to the fact that we happen to live in a little house. A curious little house with a wild garden in a rural pocket of the South of England. 

What else? I can't pass by a charity shop or flea market or anywhere I might find beautiful fabric and interesting objects without a good root around. I love really good coffee and am very fussy about the width and rim on a cup (yes, I do know there are more important things and I almost certainly fuss about them too.) I'm learning to play the piano though I'm lagging far behind my son. I prefer weeds and wild flowers to most cultivated blooms (though I love the scent of tuberose). The smell of a dusty pavement drying after a spell of rain is my madeleine. 

Oh, and if you simply must have some sense of what I look like, then you can get a glimpse here and here. Perhaps if I can persuade someone to take a photo of me when my mouth isn't full of food or I'm in the process of being 'surprised' - or when I get over the embarrassment at taking my own photo - then I will have a photo of my full face that won't terrify you. 

Finally, this isn't a private journal: I would love it to spark a conversation.

* I wish I could give you the reference but I can't find it. The academic in me in livid!