Good Afternoon Dear Friends . . .
. . . although the level of light has remained much the same throughout the day so it's quite difficult to judge the time; this kind of day makes me sleepy and reflective and, if like today work to be done is breathing down my neck, very creative at avoiding its clutches. To this end I have managed some words for the final assignment and have crept up to 'halfway there' but have spent much more time in the company of old friends namely Endeavour Morse with whom I spent a couple of hours and then a delightful 24 in one hour and twenty with Richard B et al in the lovely village of Llareggub . . . I am now relaxed and content; except for all the work I still have to do and the fact that I am getting very mutinous looks from my small canine shipmate who blames the awful meteorology on me!
So to begin at the beginning . . . it is, of course Sunday and the week stretches before me, ripe with possibilities and promise. Tomorrow I am over to Bury where the countdown has begun - only four more visits - to see clients; Wednesday is the final day at my ivy-clad Hall of Learning - for the time-being at least as I have two more courses lined up (and still waiting to be financed!) and then on Friday I make my second visit to my new placement in a relatively local High School. In between I have the pleasure of luncheon with the Old Duchess on Tuesday and a high probability of a similar event with Sister Cate at some point and then it's the weekend again - phew!
I'm thinking more and more about "The Maelstrom" which, for those of you with significant memory loss or freshly returned from an extended stay in Ulan Bator, is the name of the story that managed to win me a writing retreat on Jura. I leave in 2 weeks and the joyful prospect of spending time in such isolation and beauty is somewhat tempered by the realisation that I need to produce at least 7,500 words of wonder and joy in a little over 1,984 minutes! I do have the outline firmly in my head and so it shouldn't be that difficult (ha!) - unless the story changes - which as, living dynamic things, they are wont to do! I also want to produce a blog of my time there and lots of photographs . . . I wonder if I scratch out the word "days" on the ticket and replace it with "months" anyone will notice?
With thoughts of words in mind, I don't think I had ever realised what an unconscious debt I owe to the Lord Of Llareggub; it was only when I listened to the way his words came and went like waves, washing together and mingling, changing direction and eddying that I thought how my words do the same . . . bizarrely enough as a callow youth I never cared for his writing; nor did I like the music of RV Williams - how one changes over time, from those days when one had such definite views and opinions, very black and white . . . ah me!
I suppose I cannot put off the inevitable any longer; the old sea-dog beside me has wondered in and out of the courtyard a few times but really needs her short hairy legs stretching a bit so it's on with the sou'wester and strap me to the mast . . . or at least unfurl an umbrella!
I hope you all have a fantastic week and that the weather improves to raise all our spirits
'til next time
Be Seeing You !