Monday, March 11, 2024



UN-stabul as Mum used to say it
in her own invented
language and pronunciation
like raddy-otta-meez.
And why not.
“English also spoken here”
Dad said there should be a sign
on the front door
when they were first married
but he became bilingual.
So today I know I am living
through a time when things are
un-stabul for me,  unstabul
without my mum and my dad
and my Mike
who saw “breaded plaice” as
bearded plaice, which it fast
became with parents, carers
and now still me. 
They never met
but on the phone discussed how
a single grain of rice was a rouce:
Mum thought not but
Mike was adamant
about his invention.
My new house-to-be is full of labradors
and other tradesmen.
The architrave fades into less significance
compared to the builder, Jason, and
all his argonauts
and I am tossed around in an unstable
world, missing all three of them
feeling out of touch with my
linguistic roots and routes
through the maze of decisions
being uprooted myself just enough
so I am now unstable
ready to be blown down in the wind
or washed away in a rainstorm
or undermined by something small.

Leslie Wynne Prescot
28/05/1927 - 16/10/2020

Anthea Warwick Prescot
07/07/1928 - 28/11/2020

Mike Hitchens
07/12/1943 - 11/07/2023


  1. Lovely folks sadly missed. Beautifully written Jane

    1. Thank you, A (for anonymous and I can guess who you are by your style :) )

  2. This is beautiful, Jane. It also brings back memories for me of my mum's eccentric pronunciations!

    1. I remember our discussing that both families referred to the Radio Times the same way :)