Two September days.

On September 11th 2001, I was working in a sixth form college. It was a quiet afternoon. I had free time to mark and prepare. At some point I went down to reception to talk to one of the secretarial staff about something that needed doing. On the ground floor it was remarkably quiet except for a huddle around the reception desk, watching events unfolding on the television screen. 

I drove home early. Everything had come to a stop at college. When I arrived home I found my husband, my daughter and her three and a half year old sitting on the sofa watching film of planes flying into the twin towers in New York. 

And that, 9/11, was the event that changed all our lives from that time on. 

Fifteen years on, I'm retired. There are a few articles about 9/11 but mostly about photographers who took pictures that day and such like. I

t's been a lovely sunny September day here. A friend of mine has been complaining on social media that it is too cold and she needs to put the heating on. On the other hand, I have had the kitchen door open and suffered that September pest: wasps. Two of the nasty, little critters were buzzing round the kitchen and managed to sting me as I put the chicken in the oven. I suspect I just got in their way. Phil went into overdrive and googled "what to do for wasp stings". Answer: not a lot unless you are among the unlucky few who have an allergic reaction or, of course, if it stings you inside your mouth! 

And so I am left with a slightly swollen red patch on my arm. Oh, and a dead wasp on the kitchen window ledge. Phil went on a killing spree, risking knocking my poor avocado plant for six in the process. 

What a difference fifteen years makes.