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Eleanor Verner

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The Last Frost Fair

The Last Frost Fair

Wednesday, July 29, 2015

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Eleanor Verner

RECENT Posts

  1. Illustrated by Anna Magnowska
    05 Sep, 2016
    Breastfeeding Discreetly – The Truth Laid Bare
    I found the first year of motherhood to be predominately a living hell. Half the problem was that I wasn’t expecting it. People don’t talk about how awful new-borns are when you get pregnant, they always say ‘congratulations!’ instead of ‘holy fuck!’ My all-natural, yoga-breathing, whale-singing, home birth ended after three days with an epidural, a tear through me bigger than most junk mail gets, and four pairs of hands up, what I used to consider, a dainty passage. The thing they finally
  2. The Restaurant Blogs - Re-published on popular request
    05 Aug, 2016
    The Restaurant Blogs - Re-published on popular request
    The first one:  We’ve moved house. The cat shat in the bath. Enough said. We are now looking at piles of boxes in East Devon, the same boxes, but in different configurations. My makeup box is now under a very large box of Anthony’s fishing magazines, on which I administered a couple of wrestling moves before it tore, spilling a glossy image of a carp onto my feet and momentarily leading me to believe I had found a mirror. The box of vitally important, business related papers are under the box
  3. Wild Boy in the orchard
    06 Aug, 2015
    Wild Boy in the orchard
    The last light of the summer day Lay golden on the bails of hay And down a winding path of bramble, Where the wild rabbits amble, Stood an orchard ripe with fruit And nestled in a old tree root, Still as the apples in the grass, Wild Boy lay watching the day pass. Wild Boy spent all his days outside Through winter’s gales to heat that fried He walked the woods and waded streams From daybreak to the sun’s last beams His hair was tangled, his eyes, wild, He rarely saw another child. So soft
  4. Excerpts from my gap year
    05 Oct, 2014
    Excerpts from my gap year
    Dear Losers, New South Wales is much better than Wales. The weather has been marvelous up until this week, now its pissing down with rain but is still nice and warm except in places where it is air conditioned then its much like England is now I imagine. So far we have been down from Sydney to Nowra which is Amber's home town and she took us to around a hundred beaches she considers to be of notable beauty, and they were all spectacular. One day I shook out my towel forgetting that it had money