Month: January 2026

I’m Still That Girl

On By Annika PerryIn Writing161 Comments

Today I want to wish a very Happy Birthday to a special lady and close friend – my wonderful Mamma. The following is a poem I wrote in honour of her. As children, we never imagine our parents being a child themselves. Often this will change and I’ve been lucky enough to listen to my mother’s stories of growing up on a small island off the West Coast of Sweden. I know that for her, as for so many of us, that child remains within us. On the actual birthday we are holding a large family party at my home and this is a piece that I will read aloud during the celebrations.

I’M STILL THAT GIRL

I'm still that girl
Hauling wood up the rocks
To build the bookish den
A makeshift table decked with croqueted tablecloth
Shelves jammed into the crevices, already filled with literature.

A private space for my friends and I.

I'm still that girl 
Snuggled up on the sofa bed in the kitchen
Falling asleep to the melody of knitting needles 
The female chatter my lullaby.

I’m still that girl that could never just walk.
Could never understand a slow stroll,
when a  run or a skip were the best forms of motion. 
Walking itself would just not do! 
(Well, apart from Sundays to church of course!)

I’m still that girl
Living life to abundance. 

Spotting a chance to help the family and collect driftwood in the rowing boat, 
why suffice with half-filling the vessel? 
Surely to the brim is the optimal solution. 
Balancing precariously on top of the overladen cargo, 
I row carefully into the harbour.

I’m still that girl 
Standing shoulder to waist with my father, 
picking the seaweed and debris from the fishing nets. 
My agile fingers adept at the task, 
the silent harmony between us speaking volumes.

I’m still that girl
Always wanting to help
Caring for my siblings, four in all, at the tender age of ten! 
How difficult could it be! 
Longing for my parents to enjoy a holiday of their own.

I’m still that girl
Seeking solitude for my thoughts
Seeking meaningful friendships
Seeking purpose, seeking to help others.

I’m still that girl
Twirling in the sun-soaked living room
The rock and roll music filling the space.

All alone! Sheer bliss...

My mother returns early
No words of reproach, just a sweet smile. 

My love of dance and music
never wanes.

A dark clear night beckons
My father leads me to the rocks
Far and high, away from the cosily lit houses.

Above us looms the universe. 
He hands me a box.

I hardly dare breathe as I unwrap 
The gift from the gods, I feel. 
My own telescope.

Together we spend nights mapping the stars,
 precious moments of learning, 
of unity and quiet.

I’m still that girl
With Christmas money tucked safely into my purse, 
Excitement bubbling in my stomach 
the whole  family heads to town.
For hours, I’m enthralled 
by the magical lights, the decorations, the shops.

A chore is anything but taxing and boring
As with enthusiasm we prepare the boat for family holiday.
Scrubbing away with relish, 
knowing adventures beyond local shores are imminent.

I’m still that girl
In awe with a room of my own. 
At night times the friendly rotation of the lighthouse beam 
gleams into my haven. 

I’m still that girl
With no sense of danger
Standing on the sheer slope of the tiled roof with my brother
Shaking the bedding with vigour
Admiring the view of the islands 
The blue of the sea greeting the sky.

A girl who takes a dare to dive 
Into waters unknown
Slamming my head onto the rocks in the hidden depths.

During my first outing to the countryside
The vast emptiness of a field beckons
Space limitless, eternity ahead.
Barefooted I race on, treading on the soil, 
onto the sharp harsh stubble. 
I bite back a scream, my tears. 
Turn around, return, 
my pride refusing to show my pain and trauma.

An inner pride and sense of strength
That remains.

I’m still that girl
With an insatiable thirst for knowledge, 

I’m still that girl
Teaching myself the piano, learning guitar, the music becoming an intricate part of my life. 
Not able to imagine a life without it.

I’m still that girl
Believing the best in people, seeing the possibles, the positives
Understanding the richness of forgiveness
Comprehending the destructiveness of hate and anger.

I’m still that girl
Trusting in love, family and friends
Exploring life beyond any confines
Searching beyond the physical realms of my existence.

©Annika Perry

My grandparents (Mormor & Morfar) started a family tradition when my mother was young of performing the song ‘Med en Enkel Tulipan’ (‘With a Simple Tulip’) on people’s birthday. My Mormor would sing and my Morfar would join in on the harmonica. Today, I want to share this tradition with a video of the song sung by Harry Bandelius. Enjoy and if you’re curious about the words, please click here to see a full translation.

‘My True Final Letter’

On By Annika PerryIn short story, Writing95 Comments

The eighth day of Februari 1587. My Majesty, Cousin Elizabeth, They will say that my last letter is the one to Henri, my dearest brother-in-law, King of France. We are close, but not the way we were at times, Elizabeth. The letter to him will be about the final housekeeping for my staff, it will become my last political act, ultimately my testament to the future. The inner truth resides within me, my dear cousin. I know, how can I think of you as dear after your cruelty these past decades? Years that are inherently bent and twisted, distorted beyond any recognition. Every year became a lifetime yet fleeting and gruelling. I wake on the four-poster bed, the heavy drapes a cocoon from my life, my fate, my death. The majestic red material in tired folds, the red blood of martyrs. Do you want to make one of me, cousin? Cousin, what a sweet word of family. The familiar, a close relation and we know each other well. Don’t we? As I open my eyes in the morning, the dreams of our childish giggles echo into the bedchamber. Do you recall the games of tag, darting between the roses in the gardens, around the lakes? Of course, being older, I often let you win. Maybe I should have overruled you already then? My kindness has perhaps become my downfall. Those were the times of joy, before the tragedies in our lives, when our chortles bubbled up to life-affirming laughter. ‘Most unladylike,’ our guardians reprimanded us, as once again we ran away to play on the manicured lawns. The day you sequestered me in castle after castle, year after year, you banished the laughter out of us, out of our people, our country. As a sovereign, I thought I would one day visit these illustrious habitations, just never as a regal prisoner, wanting for nothing, wanting for everything. We never stood a chance, your majesty. History has ruled our every step even before our conception. Blame! What a simplistic, naive concept, and I don’t hold it in any regard. None lies with you. Yet the fault is all yours. I hold you close in my heart, dear cousin. I hate you with every fibre of my being, you contemptuous Queen. My legacy will haunt you and your England forever. This, Elizabeth, is my last letter to you and to you alone.  It may not survive me but it is writ. Yours grievously, Your Cousin, Mary, Queen of Scots

©Annika Perry

‘My True Final Letter’ was inspired by an article about Mary, Queen of Scots’ actual last letter on display at the National Library of Scotland. Why would her final writing be to her brother-in-law when surely her cousin, Elizabeth, Queen of England, must be first and foremost in her mind? 

For over two decades, Elizabeth had kept Mary as an enforced ‘guest’ across the country. Mary reigned as Queen of Scots from 1561 to 1567. However, she was forced to abdicate and flee to England after a rebellion by the protestant Scottish lords. Elizabeth, Queen of England, felt that her cousin threatened her position, yet for years managed to keep her alive in captivity. However, in February 1587, Mary was implicated in a plot to overthrow Elizabeth. Queen Elizabeth’s ministers insisted she sign her cousin’s death warrant. 

Note: Photographs from the National Library of Scotland

The Cave

On By Annika PerryIn #books, Books, Goodreads Reading Challenge, Writing93 Comments

‘Where do we go from here?’ the woman in red asked again. ‘I just want a little bit of sunshine.’

Didn’t they all, thought Mira, straining her eyes in the dark, damp cave. The walls seemed to be closing in on the four of them. Wearily, the straggly group edged their way forward.

‘The swim to the other side will be easy,’ Neil had promised and dared them in equal measure hours ago. As if! One friend, or rather acquaintance, had been swept away. Hopefully to safety, prayed Mira, but even that offered little consolation to them.

‘I said, where do we …’

‘For God’s sake, Julia, can’t you stop moaning? For once, a single act of kindness and consideration wouldn’t go amiss,’ retorted Neil, guilt and exhaustion clawing at his spirit.

After the calamitous swim, which took them far from their intended beach nook, they’d struggled onto some rocks and found a cavernous opening in the mountainside. Would this be their salvation? They continued to scramble over stones and spiky rocks, accruing scrapes and cuts.

‘There’s something about Mira,’ mumbled Petra, the Norwegian exchange student whom they’d all met at the fresher’s week. Petra gave voice to all their musings. Mira who barely said a word, and rarely showed any emotion, hung with them at every opportunity. What was it with her? No one believed Mira would come with them on the trip to the island off the Cornish coast just for the summer. Perhaps she had been convinced by the woman with all the answers aka Julia. 

‘We can find the missing pieces of our lives,’ Julia had declared, selling the well-being aspect of the holiday heavily. The only pieces were the fragmented friendships, Mira thought. The island home quickly became a toxic and smouldering place with arguments and verbal abuse scattered far and wide. Mira retreated further inside herself, if that was possible. Petra had taken on the role of the housemaid; she seemed chained to the kitchen as she skivvied away. Julia had shown her true colours, her privileged upbringing ensuring she never lifted a finger to help.

Mira sought refuge in the butterfly garden, where the others quickly discovered her. Her quiet demeanour meant she soon became, unwillingly, the secret collector. Stoner Julia revealed that she hadn’t been clean a single day of term. Petra, an orphan, thought of herself as nobody’s child while Neil battled his embarrassing emotions of a boy between teenager and adulthood. No doubt they all would soon think more about their lost colleague and at last truly talk about the real stages of grief.

Hours passed in agonised silence as they trekked onwards through the caverns until the sudden wild call from Mira of all people.

‘Look,’ her arms waving madly, pointing ahead. ‘Light!’

At the midnight hour, the four stopped to rest in the magical beam of moonlight from a gap above them.

‘See, over there. See what the light touches,’ exclaimed Mira. 

Exhausted, they all took in the heavenly sight of a purple hibiscus, lit up to all its glory and behind it, a crevice, just wide enough for a person, which led onto a beach. Freedom.

The End

@Annika Perry

The Cave was inspired by book titles of some of the books I read last year as part of the Goodreads Reading Challenge 2025.

I was happy to lose myself in 76 books and in the story above 22 titles, as shown in italics, are featured. Overall, I read 25,360 pages and the longest book was 528 pages long and the shortest 114.

Enjoy perusing the images of the book titles I’ve read and below are a list of my five-star rated books as well as my non-fiction read books.

My 50 Read Fiction Books for 2025 – 4 & -3-Stars

My 5-Star Read Books for 2025

‘To read it to voyage through time.’ Carl Sagan

My 5-Star Read Books for 2025

  • ‘The Women’ by Kristin Hannah
  • ‘Wild’ by Kristin Hannah
  • ‘The Bookbinder’ by Pip Williams
  • ‘Weyward’ by Emilia Hart 
  • ‘The Woman in Red’ by Diana Giovianzzo
  • ‘A Borrowed Path’ by Imogen Clark
  • ‘Tale of the Seasons’ Weaver’ by D. Wallace Peach
  • ‘The Wind Knows My Name’ by Isabel Allende
  • ‘The Forgotten Book Club’ by Kate Storey
  • ‘The Phoenix Ballroom’ by Ruth Hogan
  • ‘The Light a Candle Society’ by Ruth Hogan
  • ‘By Any Other Name’ by Jodi Picoult
  • ‘The Book of Fire’ by Christy Lefteri
  • ‘There’s Something About Mira’ by Sonali Dev
  • ‘The Mysterious Bakery on Rue de Paris’ by Evie Woods
  • ‘What the Light Touches’ by Xavier Bosch
  • ‘The Boy, The Mole, The Fox and The Horse – The Animated Story’ by Charlie Mackesy
  • ‘About the Real Stages of Grief: A Journey Through Loss’ by D. G. Kaye

‘When I look back, I am so impressed again with the life-giving power of literature.’ Maya Angelou

My 9 Read Non-Fiction Books 2025

  • ‘The Joy of Wintering’ by  Erin Nimi Longhurst
  • ‘Nobody’s Child’ by Kate Adie
  • ‘Grief is the Thing with Feathers’ by Max Porter
  • ‘Friendaholic’:Confessions of a Friendship Addict’ by Elizabeth Day
  • ‘Wise Up: Power, Wisdom and the Older Woman’ by Barbara Scully
  • ‘Consolations: The Solace Nourishment and Underlying Meaning of Everyday Words’ by David Whyte
  • ‘The Boy Between: A Mother and Son’s Journey From a World Gone Grey’ by Josiah Hartley, Amanda Prowse
  • ‘Walden or, Life in the Woods’ by Henry David Thoreau
  • ‘About the Real Stages of Grief: A Journey Through Loss’ by D. G. Kaye

‘What a miracle it is that out of theses flat, rigid squares of paper unfolds world after world after world. Worlds that sing to you, comfort you and quiet or excite you. Books help us understand who we are and how we are to behave. They show us what community and friendship mean, they show us how to live and die.’ Anne Lamott

A full list of my read books in 2025 is available by clicking here.

Happy Reading in 2026!

Finally, as promised, an update on my book nook craft kit build. It is coming on apace and below is just one of the many completed interior items. As we have a grandfather clock in our house, inherited from my husband’s parents, this smaller version feels special to me too. 

Pictures: Cave image courtesy of Yogeshhire  at pixaby.com The living room bathed in sunlight with bookshelves is an ai generated image courtesy of FREEP!K.  Remaining images copyright Annika Perry.

Happy New Year!

On By Annika PerryIn #books, Writing141 Comments

Firstly, I want to wish you all a very Happy New Year! 

My blog last year unintentionally languished without a single post, a situation that crept upon it unexpectedly as time flew by. I felt pulled away by the days, weeks and months. Never would I have expected to be AWOL for a whole twelve months and I’m thankful to break this hiatus at the start of this year. I plan to be back on a regular basis and look forward to reconnecting with friends and to meeting new bloggers as well.

There’s never been a Christmas where book presents did not feature and this year was no exception. I was kindly gifted two fascinating books (hints do help!😀) and already I treasure these tomes.

Like so many, I was captivated by Elizabeth Gilbert’s ‘Eat Pray Love’ book of 2006; her physical and spiritual journey of self-discovery and love resonated deeply within me. The book was complete, a wholesome ending … or so she and the readers thought.  After an amicable divorce from José, Elizabeth Gilbert embarked on a new albeit  destructive and addictive relationship with her hairdresser. The book is ‘about love and loss, addiction and recovery, grief and liberation’ and her ultimate search for peace and freedom. I look forward to delving into her story.

‘Words’ by Susie Dent promises to be an enjoyable and knowledgeable daily read, as for each day of 2026, a quirky and unusual word is explained in detail. The author is a renowned lexicographer and etymologist. As a human lexicon, she has been on the popular British TV word game ‘Countdown’ for over thirty years as well as being an author. 

Her latest book describes the history of quirky and unusual words. After all, who knew the word Bluetooth stretched back to a tenth-century Scandinavian King! Furthermore, it introduces the reader to unknown words including, ‘depooperit’ and  ‘whangdoodle’ as well as explaining foreign expressions such as the Norwegian ’gruglede’. Susie Dent will more than fulfil her promise to give the reader a daily ‘linguistic vitamin shot’! I will relish this medicine! 

I’ve never excelled in any type of craft. My attempts at knitted scarves zigzagged to oblivion. One summer as a child I nagged my gifted grandmother to teach me to crochet before she finally caved in and agreed to give me a lesson. Bless, she knew me only too well and after a frustrating ten minutes, I thanked her before scuttling off to play. One Christmas to everyone’s surprise, including mine, I won the class award for best decorated Christmas hat. My invention of a mortar board ladened with colourful gift-wrapped parcels proved an instant hit. A success resoundingly obliterated by the worst ever Easter hat of garish yellow feathers flop!

Imagine then my wary excitement upon opening a present of a book nook. This miniature magical bookstore, complete with books, lighting, chairs, tables will rest between my normal books creating a warm and cosy addition to my literary world. There is only one issue — it is a craft kit! 

I smiled hesitantly at my husband’s trust in my abilities in this speciality, tempting me into this world through my passion of books. Loath to read instructions and usually of the I’ll-work-it-out-along-the-way school, this time I am, for once, reading the detailed booklet followed by watching a couple of explanatory YouTube videos. This time, I feel prepared, this time I’m optimistic and I am keen to begin my journey into this craft. I will post progress of my build and hopefully it won’t be too long until the finalised project is in place, tucked and illuminated neatly between two precious books.

“Do one thing every day that scares you.” Eleanor Roosevelt

Heading picture courtesy of Pixaby. Work art by FreeFunArt at https://distrokid.com/hyperfollow/oracleridge/everwitch