where i am from

a birthday poem + a SELKIE CIRCLE reminder

Hello and welcome to Another World is Possible! I’m Annette, mother, writer, and self-confessed selkie, living and swimming on the east coast of Ireland, and writing through the chaos to dare imagine a future more beautiful.

PS. This email might be clipped, so you may have to read it in your browser or in the Substack app.

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It was my birthday a couple of days ago. I am 50 years old.

My parents spent a week in Ireland with us, and so, by a stroke of (almost) luck, they were with me, in the flesh, for my birthday, for the first time in some thirty years! One of my presents was a hand-written booklet, compiled by my mum, of my fifty years on this earth, decade by decade, and so it is a good time to remember where I am from, which is rural Haute-Loire, Auvergne, in the south-east, but close to the centre, of France.

I started writing this poem nearly six months ago, inspired by

Jeannine Ouellette

’s own. But when she shared it again here, alongside a template, I finally plucked up the courage to finish it!

So here goes–

where I am from

I am from Wednesday morning couch forts, 
from the Famous Five and Mercurochrome.
I am from the dirt in the vegetable garden 
(crumbly, clay-heavy, it clung to everything),
from barn swallows and 
the linden tree that held the washing line.

I am from the upper Loire, 
born wild from an extinct volcano, 
whose basalt pipes still sing me home.

I am from butter churning and hay making, from Parrain and Mamie, 
more fourmi than cigale.
I’m from skeins of yarn and Champs-Elysées on TV,
from “Finish your plate” and “Go play outside”.

I am from Sunday mass at 8am,
and praying at great-grandparents’ graves on All Saints’ Day.

I am from the volcanic heart of France, 
from Mamie’s civet de lapin, blood-dark and thyme-scented, 
and Mémé’s blackberry jam.
I am from the POW tattoo on Pépé’s arm, 
the hand my father lost to a power saw.

But by the house my mother was born in and my father rebuilt, stone by stone, for me and my brood, there is a staunch rosebush, my grandad's bane. Hacked back many a time, always it sprouts back, always it flowers – only skipping its annual bloom the spring that Parrain died.

I am from those roses, stubborn roots and fleeting petals, thorny stems and dewy scent, testimony to all that endures.

As ever, thank you for joining me here and reading my words – it truly means the world!

Much love,
Annette

My brand new offering, the SELKIE CIRCLE, starts on 8th May – that’s less than three weeks! Dive in and take a 7-week journey to reclaim your true skin, in a small community of women.

the SELKIE CIRCLE

Will you swim in the selkie’s wake with us?

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