In the Midst of Life . . .

Good Morning Dear Friends

Apologies for the huge gap in posting; there has been so many things to do regarding the stately pile and sorting out the Old Duchess' affairs that I have been nearly always engaged and, when not so, exhausted and not much in the mood to post . . .

However, things are coming together finally and, with any luck, all should be done and dusted by next week - phew!  The funeral itself was short and sweet and was attended by a number of old friends - to whom I owe a great deal - and for it I wrote a short verse which I shall post a little below this as another little tribute to the woman who had been present for every second of my existence.

In other news a new piece entitled "Our Beloved Sister" (see the cover above) has winged its way electronically to the Wells Literary Festival and so fingers are once more crossed;  "The Maelstrom" has received favourable comments initially from the good people at Weber-Shandwick in Edinburgh who handle PR etc for the Isle of Jura whisky and so it's now a case of waiting (yet again) to see where and when it is to see the light of day.  I want very much to publish all my works on the Myrtle House  site but, in the norm, competition rules state that the work must be previously unpublished and, sadly, this even includes blogs for the most part, oh hum! 

Also in the offing is the first George Orwell Festival which is taking place in September in the lovely environs of Letchworth Garden City; I am doing my best to ensure The Maelstrom becomes a part of proceedings! For details please visit the festival site here. . . and in a final attempt at international stardom some of my work is possibly going to flap its way across the pond to Chicago's Dream Quest One competition  - as those people at the National Lottery say one must partake to reap the laurels - or something along those lines anyway!  I've also managed a bizarre little piece called "The Voles of England" (see cover above) which I love but have not the vaguest idea what will happen to it! 

Not such good news on the counselling front however, where the funeral and related business prevented me from submitting my final piece; I have agreed a delay until the end of August but this will inevitably also delay the granting of the diploma ( should I manage it) and subsequent plans for September now seem a little less solid than before . . . I suppose that, given that it's taken 4 years to get this far, a few more weeks isn't the end of the world . . . is it?

Anyhow, that just about wraps it up for today; a small terrier is mumbling mutinously about walks; the weather changes more often than the excuses at the News of the World - appalling business - and I must about my errands.  Before I go I will let you have a glimpse at a small poem written specifically for the Old Duchess shortly after her death - I hope you enjoy it . . .

The Final Days of Spring

In September she was May;

In Autumn born, she was the Spring

Of herself she gave away

To us the gift of everything

Her time, her love, her peace, her breath

She gave us life; the chance to be

And, at the hour of her death

Once more with those she longed to see

She gave us memories to hold

And with our words her life remember

With love until we too grow cold

A breath of Spring; May in September

I hope your week is filled with love

'til next time

Be Seeing You!

ॐ