Clearing the decks!

New Year's Eve. I looked around the study this morning and despaired at the number of folders, notebooks etc. with scribbles of this and that, photos I always meant to use, half-written poems and unfinished stories. All still there though so haphazardly filed (well - abandoned!) it would take a month of Sundays to locate any one item should I need to.

But taking a fresh look at things begun months, if not years, ago has resurrected my interest in some of the projects; others have the potential for a bit of recycling at least (prose that could mutate into verse etc). So it's been a morning for clearing the decks, sorting and putting in order. Needless to say things always look worse before they get better and I'm still knee deep in piles of paper, but by tomorrow I'm hoping January will start with a tidy study and well catalogued folders to spur on the writing year!

A long abandoned child's bike photographed last summer
- there has to be a story in it!

Perfect presents

For Christmas I had two perfect presents - a scented candle from my daughter and a distance learning course from my husband - with more of a connection than is immediately apparent!

I don't know why my father cut down the lilac tree at the top of our garden in Worcester - I must have been about eight at the time and perhaps that's when the vegetable plot gave way to lawns and borders and a rethink of that top corner. But from childhood I have always looked forward to the coming of spring and lilac blossom has always embodied that for me. The scent never fails to awaken in me a sense of hope and looking forward. So now, sitting on top of my filing cabinet is a beautiful scented candle that perfumes the whole room even when unlit. And the association with my childhood, the memories evoked, lead on to my other perfect present .....

Exeter University offers a distance learning course on "Writing Memoir And Family History". I'm well into recording and publishing sections of the family history (witness several of the blog entries below!) but writing memoir has seemed a bit self-indulgent in the past. However, if any of my writing survives for future generations the family history wouldn't be complete without at least a mention of my life as part of that - and, if I'm going to include it, I'd like to write it in the same sort of social context as I'm using for Digging Up The Family. So the idea of a short course which encourages, supports and perhaps helps structure the venture certainly appealed. It doesn't start until March but I'm certainly looking forward to it.

(PS. Hopefully my present to my husband - a tripod for his camera - is equally appropriate. Last Christmas my daughter and I gave him a landscape photography course. We seem to have developed very absorbing hobbies that keep us both out of trouble and make birthday / Christmas presents no problem!)

Winter weather

My mother in the 1950s

Odd things come to mind as you lie in bed on winter nights listening to the wind howling outside and rain battering against the windows. Last night for some reason I had vivid recollections of the wash days of my childhood (they were only once a week then, and a major household exercise, not the quick daily occurence now possible with automatic washing machines, tumble driers etc). The weather would have a marked effect on my mother's Monday mood - yes, wash day was always Monday! - and the following poem is dedicated to her memory.



Winter Wash circa 1955

Wild horses tugging at her hands,
she fights to rein in sheets,
tether them to the line, then
wields the pole, hoisting
the standard for battle -
shirts, slacks and socks
pennants on the breeze.

A standoff with the elements -
a threatening sky, a spot or two of rain;
a truce - but from the kitchen watchtower
she keeps a careful eye in case
a rescue mission must be launched,
a retreat, to regroup at the
clothes horse by the fire. 

(Copyright Gill Garrett 2013)

Picaresque - Troubadors at La Tasca

What a super evening we had at La Tasca - a really appreciative audience, lovely tapas during the interval and just great fun all round. Our poems in the first half had a "Winter" theme and in the second we majored on "Ghosts", with contributions on everything from poltergeists to Resurrectionists via Highgate Cemetery and Civil War spirits. Two of our members weren't able to make the evening but we hope they'll be with us for our next one - we've all got very different poetic approaches but put us together and we seem to work well!

A Real Community Venture.

I spent a magical hour yesterday lunchtime in Gloucester Cathedral listening to the Caring Chorus, a new choir made up of staff from our local health authority, the brainchild of an ex-student of mine, Lucy Mathieson. All I can say is - move over Gareth Malone! Under the expert input of their musical director, domestic staff, consultants, nurses, porters, medical secretaries and other sundry healthcare workers put on a brilliant concert, with pieces ranging from 1970s hits through African vocals to the beautiful Irish Blessing (which had me in tears). It was their first public appearance and they got a standing ovation from a packed cathedral. A tremendous success - and a great tribute to Lucy's belief in her idea and her dedication to making it happen.

Caring Chorus

I think there's something very special about such community ventures, something that unites and gives a common sense of purpose. It's great when that works with writing too; for several years I've worked in nursing and care homes with elderly residents undertaking joint writing projects - two of which resulted in informal publications sold in aid of the home's activity programmes. Anna Saunders, the director of the Cheltenham Poetry Festival, is currently planning for the forthcoming festival (March 28th - April 6th 2014) and I'm very much hoping that we'll be including outreach programmes with workshops for local groups to really make it relevant to the whole Cheltenham community.

Let Us Be Merry!

Well, November and NaNoWriMo are safely done with - and yes, I did manage my very modest contribution of four articles for Digging Up The Family. December has started very hectically. Yesterday I was interviewed on Write Out Loud on Corinium Radio about the poem with which I'd won the Gloucestershire Writers Network competition at the Cheltenham Literature Festival, this morning saw the broadcast of my own programme "Cirencester's Own Poetry Please" and this afternoon I've been at a rehearsal for the Charlton Kings Community Players concert "Let Us Be Merry" being staged on Wednesday.

"Let Us Be Merry" is an annual feature in the village and always great fun to be in. Last year I wrote and performed a short story entitled "Waiting" about the Russian Orthodox Christmas; this year I'm afraid that time and life got the better of me despite my good intentions to write my own material again and I'm reading instead the Charles Causley poem "Ballad Of The Breadman". If it's not one you know, do look it up - a very modern, thought-provoking take on the age old story.