Snow

A little bit of snow, not so much covering the landscape as clinging on with icy fingernails to well-insulated roofs and shadowed corners of the garden. Further inland the airports are shut and the motorways closed; petroleum gas containing tankers rolled over on the ice and stranded holiday makers-in-waiting dozing fitfully on airport carpet. Snowy rain falling, in deference to the warring meteorologists who predict rain OR snow, now both can be correct!! Barry's Mum calls to find out if she can be confident of the coaches running tomorrow when she treks down to Dorset to be with Auntie Barbara, again. The conversation edges around minus degrees and conflicting predictions, underlying opportunity to NOT GO this year! We may all be afforded a reprieve from family Christmas Travel duty. My own family is present-less as our planned trip had to be called off due to 'weather warnings'.This year... I am finding it difficult to locate my christmas spirit. It seems to be frozen on a slip road and the routes may not reopen before New Year. I'm in need of a dose of Jingle Bells, but I'm more likely to win a timely dose of Christmas Flu, courtesy of my congested daughter. Am I just getting too old for this? Or should I be out searching for the meaning of celebration amongst the tinsel and half-price last-minute-gifts cornucopia, preparing to pretend that all is well and all is well and Ho Ho Ho, all is well...

Wind and Rain

The ribbon of writing I keep in my life has been wrapped around Penzu for the past few weeks. But not as much as I had come to expect. The tension between keeping a reflective journal and writing creatively has thrown up blocks again. Also, I am juggling many threads of work and that makes for an uncomfortable metaphor!! So, what with this and that and ups and downs, I'm more or less tied in knots and now the Winter offers wind and rain to blow the mixture around and, as I hope you can se from my graphic description... I am a mess!
Today I look out of the window and sigh. There doesn't seem to be any more I can say. Angela x

Returning To Place

I am sitting at my desk, looking out at the roofs and tree tops in my back garden (well, the roofs are on the houses in other peoples gardens, but from here they all look like mine) and thinking again of how different it would be if I went to my yurt to write. A commonly told secret of 'good writing' is that you should engage all the senses and capture qualities associated with each one. Sitting here I am aware of the snickerty-snick of my husband typing into the Daily Beast (a forum he frequents) and the muffled sound of electrical humming from beneath my desk, as lead after lead sucks energy from the grid. I feel the squished faux leather of my chair meet my bum and thighs and the course, worn carpet irritating my toes. 
Many hours, days, weeks, months later, I find this unpublished Blog! I am intrigued by its 'almost' and 'unfinished' nature and recall precisely what it felt like when I was writing it the first time round! This time the sensations are different. My bare toes rest on a cold metal frame that sits beneath my desk; everything is the other way round for me since we cleared out the office, so no roof tops or sky or trees for me... It makes me think that some wall decorations are essential.. I will become dispirited from blank-wall-itis. Other people are in the house and talking to themselves, each other, their computers and mobile phones and, sometimes, me. It doesn't get any easier to concentrate and/or find space in this house. An anomaly of sensory overload is that it produces shut down and the result is creative paralysis. Only a Yurt-shaped bubble formed around my consciousness will help me now!
So this new/old blog is finished/goes on and symbolises the this/that of how things are changing. Utterly. And as they take shape, recognisable and true to what they've always been. 
Here is the secret: I will write and the rest will take care of itself.

I Am Still Here

Strangely enough, I have been writing quite a lot, just not here. Inside my head I have so much writing to do that there isn't time for any of it. Also, I am enjoying the complete secrecy of Penzu and find my nervousness about writing finding its way into the public domain is growing. I have always resisted writing letters, or if I have written them, it's a bugger to actual get myself to post them. Something about writing feels so powerful and 'final' as if I will be held to account for any trivial thing I commit to the page. Hence, my eternal writer's block. As long as I am not actually 'doing' anything, I can sneak up on writing and get some 'unattached' stuff out there. But as soon as serious intent enters the picture, I am frozen. Parts of me stop listening to other parts of me. I lose control and most of my personal credibility with it. It's worse than finding your knicker elastic has stopped working. Humiliating, but in a very personal way. No one else can feel it like you do. Anyway, I am beginning to feel a little exposed so that's it for today. I need to think about why writing makes me so nervous. Angels x

Being Unfaithful

I have been away from my blog for a while (not as long as the last time, but a few days, nonetheless), but I have been writing and would like to talk about where I have been writing, as I have really enjoyed the experience. A link on another writer's blog led me to Penzu (now I realise I have to learn how to put links in here... another 10 hours out of my life!!!!) but I'm sure you can google them as well. They offer a great 'notepad' for journaling or writing without posting. It can be completely secure and 'locked' like one of those diaries with a padlock and key that I lusted after when I was a little girl. The freedom it gave me to write whatever came up was wonderful. At times it felt like a walk on the dark side, but such fun. I have been using it to do my Morning Pages (sometimes known as ooops, it's evening already - will they still count?) and speed up my typing. The latter has not really happened, but I am gaining in typing stamina, so a page is nothing for me now!!! I fear that my typing style is never going to achieve speed, but I now know I can expect to do a page within 20 minutes (half an hour on a sticky day). This is a source of simple pride to me, I am a simple girl! So thanks to Alex, who introduced me to the other writer's blogs through her blog and to Penzu for giving me free virtual notepads for life!! Angels x

I'm Curious

I just pressed the 'compose' button and I'm wondering what is going to happen? In fact, I am presently just being curious about all the things I can do here at blogger. Like writing in red, or blue! Will yellow show, or is it safer to be green? Anyhoo! The main thing is, I am curious about everything and it feels fine. So what if I don't have anything in mind to write or anyone to share it with. With so many buttons to press and looks to try out it could be years before anyone notices that my blog is all about form and no content!!!!

This, by the way, is a jump break. And this is a quote... although I think it means that the words are crowded together in the middle of the page and I may have to put my own quotation marks in. Or not!

Advanced Design!

I have just played with my design settings and have changed the look of my Blog beyond recognition. So, if you don't recognise it... that is why. Now I am going to have my hair cut and undergo a mild redesign of my own. The good thing about hair is... it grows. Even the worst imaginable hair cut will, eventually, grow out to something bearable. The good thing about Blog design is... there are plenty more templates, fonts, colours and advanced settings for me to noodle with. This Blog may NEVER be recognisable again!!!! It's Sunday and I'm trying to put off cleaning the loos. Angels x