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Showing posts from June, 2015

My What Life...

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I woke this morning with a poem. A bemused Rummy watched impassively as I scrabbled around for a pen and paper to scribble it all down before it faded too much. This is the third this week. They keep coming. I can't keep up.

After Dave gave me a huge amount of art supplies, he suggested I sign up for an art class (or two). As he put it, why spend an afternoon in the library, when you can spend six months in the lab? I took his point. The course is a beginner's everything art course covering all possible materials over five days. It's at the end of July. It's ages away. In the meantime, I am experimenting. It's incredibly happy-making.
my dining room table is under there, somewhere
After my rather rude awakening, I was moved to take some pictures to sum up what life is like right now for me. Zoe made herself available to supervise me planting melons in her greenhouse. The hardest part was to try and make everything chicken-proof. The velociraptors like nothing more tha…

Opportunity for Big Girl Pants

Today did not start well. A pile of cat poo in my carpeted hall and then another in my bath. Rummy's way of telling me he wasn't happy with the state of the kitty litter. Bad enough, but his tummy is also acting up. 

There are somethings I can deal with before coffee (admittedly it's a very short list) there are somethings which are a bit much. This came under the heading "I need vodka".

I made the decision holding a clean pair of socks.

I put on my Big Girl Pants. 

Zoe reminded me that yes, while I am doing well, I am still fragile. I had some bad news over the weekend. My brother and his family won't be coming this week. All our plans disappeared in a four line message. I haven't seen him in five years. The five years since my dad died. Oh yes, and then there was Father's Day. 

When the going gets tough, the trick is not to join in the World as it pummels you with a big stick. I asked myself "what would make me feel better?" Surprisingly, the a…

The Outdoors Type

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It began like a normal text exchange on Thursday afternoon after a lovely, hot day (especially welcome after the cold, rainy, windy weather since last Saturday evening). Dave spent the day at the beach and wondered if I fancied spending Friday on the beach with him. I thought of the day ahead and said "sure, why not." I then got a text back asking if I fancied going camping for the night. According to Dave's weather sense, Friday would be scattered showers in the morning, then sunny, but cooler; Saturday, sunny but chilly. I thought about it and said "yes, if it's dry."

Friday didn't so much dawn as thunder the living daylights out of me. One minute I was fast asleep, the next I was wondering whether a giant's foot was going to come in through the roof above my head. It threw it down for about half an hour, cleared up and then had another go, because obviously, the weather hadn't got all the raining, winding and thundering right the first time. T…

Facing The Fear

I had the opportunity to grumble at my old Creative Writing tutor about one of the greatest omissions made on my course: overcoming The Fear.

You see it turns out I haven't been suffering from The Funk at all. Oh no. It's so much worse than that. I've been suffering from The Fear. Or rather, I've been running the hell away from it. 

At the end of my writing bout in the beginning of May, after I totted up my word count I had the sneaking realisation that I was sadly mistaken. The Plan I had created and set in motion wasn't going to work at all. It was a duff - pretty much the way most of my plans have turned out. 

It's now the beginning of June and looking back, I see my mistake so clearly now. Forgive me Father, but I'm a bit slow sometimes. It's not that my writing is bad, or the structure is off, or the characterisation is sloppy. It's just that I created The Plan in an effort to be safe. I had a goal that was as safe as I could create. Writing for H…