I’m having a lovely time beginning to fill the bookshelves at what the afternoon knows.
A few posts ago I hit upon the happy idea of linking each post about a Thing with a poem (or sometimes even poems) which would then go into the wtak anthology. Pleasing, don’t you think? So I have today just put up a page about ‘Water’, the poem linked to the first post about thing 4. And I’m already excited about which poem is going to go with the next post. It’s like having access to a sweet shop, but one where the sweets only do you good. How marvellous is that? How can you resist? There’s not a huge range up there yet, but it is growing. Have a look!
The second post about thing 4, part two of the pilgrimage, will be with you in a few days. For the moment, I’ll just mention that I’m hoping to go and watch murmurations some time over the next few weeks or so, as one of my Things. Anyone want to join me?
There must be some kind of equation for packing.
If N=number of things you’d like to take, C the number of things you feel you can carry, and P what you can actually fit in your pack, the initial relationship between N, C and P can be assumed to be something like N>C≥P. After that it gets a bit confusing; but the net result is definitely F, which is what you say when you pick it up for the fifteenth time that day and your shoulders are very, very angry.
I was off to Somerset for a two-day water pilgrimage from the Holy Well at Frome to Aquae Sulis, the springs which feed the baths in, well, Bath. (read more…)
I’m very pleased to be able to say that info. about the first one-day workshop is now up on the site.
I’m getting the chance to work with Simon Davies, late of Dove Cottage, and it’s a such a treat to be plotting and planning together. We had a lovely day yesterday, talking excitedly, eating slightly too much, getting breadcrumbs on the many books of poems which got pulled off the shelves, and generally having ourselves a great time. We are really looking forward to working with whoever turns up and whatever they bring. Do nip over to harvest and seed-time and have a look. One of those people might be you!
Marooned on a far-away planet, Douglas Adams’ Hitchhiker, Arthur Dent, wakes up and gives ‘his early morning yell of horror’.
A Martin Amis narrator talks of ‘the difference between cosmic reality and how you sometimes feel when you wake up in the morning’. Doctors (and obsessively-Googled medical sites) refer, more blandly, to ‘diurnal mood variation’. But whatever you call it, how you feel in the morning is not always good.
Or at least, how I feel in the morning. I shouldn’t make assumptions, though I suspect I’m not alone in frequently finding myself struggling, on waking. There’s a greyscale (read more…)
I’m usually a slow getter-inner, when lake or river swimming in Britain.
I enjoy the gradual acclimatisation process, and the way I eventually reach a point where postponing the gasp-inducing full plunge becomes worse than enduring it. On this beach, however, you have to let go of any vision of strolling casually or lingeringly across white-gold sand into lapping clear blue water as your footprints dissolve beautifully behind you. (read more…)