Nothing constructive but there is a new novel on the go, and it capitalises on several old ideas and pieces of work. This is me on the reconstructing and re-inventing trail; I hate to see anything go to waste and am always trying to use stuff up, in all walks of my life. I sometimes turn potential poems into blog posts, slice prose into poetry, and force old poems into new corsets.
On the home front I’ve been trying to make myself begin the Christmas cleaning but haven’t got very far – not even an inch. Knitting! I’ve taken up knitting tiny jumpers for my brand new great grandson, and, crocheting ponchos for friends and family to wear inside their cold houses. A few months ago I moved the furniture around in my bedroom-come-office to make the most of space; when I moved the desk I didn’t bother to clear it first so it’s still heaped, but not quite as bad as it was, but there is now a stack of crocheted blankets on top of one printer, but they will be posted off next week.
It has been a very lazy year in my calendar. I started out with a page-a-day diary to write a poem-a-day but floundered in July. A couple of poetry deadlines were met though, so I have done a little work. This is sounding like confessions of a slob, but I have read a lot and wrote a pile of poetry in the first six months. Yes, I was captured by a few drama series too but those characters and storylines are good basic food for thought – everything is illumination.
I have been swamped by death this year; my boss died, my daughter’s 23 yr old friend died, and the young son of a Facebook friend. Now I have two friends who are very sick; one is on chemo with bowel cancer and the other lying in a hospital bed with a great wound in her abdomen from yet another procedure for Crohn’s – she will be kept in until next year…and I don’t know how my workmate is responding to the chemo. I’m not afraid of death but the fact of it is on my mind, and what will be left behind, undone or unsaid. Though, I am really looking forward to my free bus pass next year and intend all sorts of running around; this old slob will turn into a busy little body – well I do in my imagination but real life might be a very different thing altogether.