Note Number 62. . .November Round up . . .

I don’t know about you, but November came and went with such speed that I keep thinking I’m only half-way through. Here’s a quick recap :

1st/2nd The grandchildren came to stay for one night. We had  tea with them all in the afternoon at The Seaside Boarding House in Burton Bradstock, then drove off into the sunset taking the little darlings with us and leaving the parents to enjoy a romantic dinner for two and a night away. The sunsets at the end of October and beginning of November were truly stunning.

sunrise

This is  actually a sunrise not sunset…photo taken by my daughter Emily Rickard (you  can find her on pimpyourrental or emilyrickardstylist on Instagram — it’s worth a look) 

3rd November The Man and I went to see The Wife at the Electric Palace in Bridport. Good film, good story etc., probably a little overhyped, but then aren’t they all these days?  Glenn Close was wonderful but then she looked just like our friend Jan from Bristol, so we were distracted by thinking how much fun it was to see Jan carrying  on with Jonathan Pryce, on the big screen.  The film is about a writer who receives the Nobel  Prize for Literature — but then we learn the truth behind his legendary writing, (The Wife). . .all is not what it seemed.

the wife

Sorry that I can’t find a photo of Jan for  you to compare…

6th  Bridport Film Society (I am on the committee) showed Land of Mine. I had watched it before and saw so much more in it, the second time around, isn’t that often the way? It’s based on a true story, when, in 1945 the Danes used young German POWs to clear the 1.5 million land mines that had been set along the coast. A harrowing but brilliant film.

7th/28th My Wednesday afternoon Laban Dance is back in full swing. Wendy has us dancing with towels — hmm, you may well ask. It’s brilliant actually. We all love following her choreographic ideas,  whilst all the time she encourages us to create our own sequences. Wendy bases a lot of the  dancing on myths and ancient stories of the  Gods.

From the 12th – 16th I went on a Flash Fiction Writing Retreat, run by Amanda Saint from Retreats West and held at Retreats for You in Sheepwash, Devon. It was a brilliant three days of writing, working with other writers under the excellent tutelage of Amanda. We each created at least three pieces of flash fiction per day ready to take home and lick into shape. Some pieces will be put in the bin, some developed and I’ll maybe start a few new ones. I need to have nine stories ready for April 2019, for publication in November 2019. Of course, Amanda will not use all of them but I’m hoping to send her a few that she won’t be able to refuse.

Retreats  For You Outside….Happy Writers Inside

19th Almost as soon as I had I returned to Bridport, we had to rush off to Bristol for babysitting duties. Then to  Maidenhead to visit our other granddaughter and from there to London, where we spent two nights in the city. I had lunch with an old friend that  I hadn’t seen for about  8 years — it was such fun catching up. Fortunately, I remembered that she always wore amazing earrings.  Shock horror! I had left my earrings in Bristol so had to  borrow a pair. There was no way I could lunch with Sheila without a decent pair of rings in my ears. Do you have friends with great fashion or accessory tastes? Not that I bother to ‘keep up’ with anything it’s just that sometimes one has to stop and think about these things.

my borrowed earrings copy

My Borrowed Earrings (rather nice I think – thanks step-daughter Jackie)

21st The Man and I went to the Jermyn Street Theatre in London to see Billy Bishop Goes To War.  Based on the true story of a fighter pilot from WW1. What a treat that was. The theatre is very small, seating only 60 or so people and the action takes place right in front of your nose. If you need the loo you have to walk across the stage area, but of course you can’t do that when the show is in progress. Charles Aitken played the younger Billy Bishop and Oliver Beamish played the older Billy Bishop. Both actors were honestly superb, creating believable scenes of war in the mud and trenches and in the skies. The staging was brilliantly put together so that the action could take place all over the world without any changes.  Hard to explain but it  was clever. I cannot wait to go back to this little theatre, what a find.

 

Left-hand side is the set. Right-hand side. See how close the  front row is? 

On the 24th November I was asked to judge the Young Farmers’ Entertainment competition. Not knowing what to expect I went with an open mind and full of interest (and full of cold for that matter). It  was a great evening, with four clubs  taking  part, each one giving us a performance for no longer than 30 mins including  set-up an take-down. The programme was as follows.

Sturminster Newton YFC – Sturminster Newton’s Got Talent
Sherborne YFC A Night at the Oscars
Marshwood Vale A Day at the Races
Puddletown YFC Puddletown YFC Entertainments

They were all brilliant, I had a good laugh and enjoyed the music and singing. It  was difficult to choose a winner but in the end I went for Marshwood Vale. A fast paced and hilarious day at the races. I even forgot my cough and cold for a few hours.

Marshwood Vale YFC

Marshwood Vale winnng group receiving their prize — photo courtesy of  them…hope they don’t mind I nicked it off facebook. Your’s Truly is looking a little pleased with herself don’t you think? 

I haven’t included every single thing that was in my diary for November,  you would have become bored, (perhaps you are anyway) but, we had some lovely dinner dates, a game of cards, a haircut, a writing meeting, among other things  and of course The Man did some cycling. All good stuff,  culminating with lunch at the Station Kitchen in Bridport  on Friday 30th  November – my son Thomas’s birthday. He would have been 35, but sadly left us when he was 27. The family never forget his birthday. Most of us can be seen sporting odd  socks for the day – a speciality of his. Lunch was good, he would have enjoyed it. Especially the bit where The Man spilt his water all over  my lap.

The Station Kitchen decorated out for Christmas. . .and my Sea Bass.  Yummy. 

Thomas and Me

And finally a throwback to 1983. . . lovely smiling mummy and son

What was that hair all about Ninette? 

Note Number 61. . . Be Aware, be Very Aware. . .Is there a day for you?

calendar

It seems to me that every day is an Awareness day for at least one thing, often several, be they animal, vegetable, mineral or abstract. A couple of weeks ago I saw on Facebook that it was International Day of the Pug! I couldn’t believe it. Okay if you have a Pug I suppose. I began to browse the Internet for other National and International days, and was astonished to find that there are hundreds in the UK and probably thousands in America and elsewhere in the world.

This month I’m attempting NaNoWrimo – National Novel Writing Month. . .It’s a website where you can join other writers and attempt to scribble 50,000 words during November. I probably won’t manage it but I want to finish my novel by Christmas and this seemed a good way to try and stick to my goal. https://nanowrimo.org

It’s also Movember https://www.awarenessdays.com/awareness-days-calendar/movember-2018-mens-health-awareness-month/ when men grow their beards and moustaches to increase awareness of men’s health.

kissing lips

Mwaah!

National World Kissing Day is the 6th July, apparently, this day started in the UK but is now worldwide. And, you’ll love this, the record for the longest kiss was set in 2005 at 31 hours and 30 mins!! Did they not eat, drink, breathe or anything else during that time? I will have to look up the rules. http://www.holidayscalendar.com/event/world-kissing-day/

World Egg Day was on the 12th October this year so we’ve missed that which is a shame as Meringue, Coddle and Soufflé would have enjoyed contributing. I’ll have to put it in the diary for 2019.
https://www.incredibleegg.org/world-egg-day/

hens2

My absolute favourite is International Talk Like a Pirate Day 19th September — shiver me timbers, that’s hilarious — I’m definitely considering a party for that in 2019. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/International_Talk_Like_a_Pirate_Day

pirate-clip-art-pirate-clipart-3

Here are a few more awareness days that you might not have heard about. . .I’ve picked one for every month from now until October 2019. But there are many more to choose from.

Hug a Bear Day 7th November (my mother’s birthday)
International Mountain Day 11th December (Climb every . . .)
National Popcorn Day which is every 19th January
Random Acts of Kindness Day 17th February (a lovely idea)
International Plant a Flower Day March 12th 2019
International Dance Day 29th April 2019
International Day of Living Together in Peace 16th May (I like this one)
International Picnic Day June 18th 2019 (strawberries and cream — oh there’s probably a day for that!)
Children’s Art Day 6th July
International Left Handers Day 13th August
World Rabies Day September 28th
World Smile Day 7th October

You can start your own awareness day if you like but I think it might be hard to think of something new. . .or find a spare date!
http://www.national-awareness-days.com/starting-your-day

Note Number 60. . .Breaking News. . .They’ve Cracked it. . .(excuse the puns). . .

Nest of Eggs

 Clutch of Eggs 

The Blue Maran, Soufflé, (we think) has LAID SOME EGGS. Six of them to be precise. A nice half-dozen. I thought she might have shot them out all at once but, I was put right by the farmer’s wife, who told me, (whilst falling about laughing at my ignorance), that the hen will only lay one egg a day. So she must have made her secret nest a while ago and started laying. The farmer found them in the paddock — lucky no-one else found them first. The grass in the area needs strimming and the farmer has not had time to do it yet. The Man is busy cycling in The Alps, I can’t get him over the road to lend a hand right now. But, as soon as he returns, whether he likes it or not, he’ll have to help out. Otherwise, no eggs for him!

Soufflé and her eggs

From Field to Table. Delicious Breakfast

Thank you girls! Beautiful yellow yolks.

Note Number 58…Grammar and All That…Innit?

Grammar-owl_2

Everyone says that these days, English grammar is slipping. I would agree, although sometimes it’s a matter of evolution. Language is a form of human communication – a living thing. It changes with time, age and usage. BUT, there are some things that grate a little and others that grate enormously.

Today we have lots of text speech.

— thank u 4 the w/e

— LOL

— CUL8r

We now have a myriad of #s This week I had to look up what #OOTD meant after my daughter had posted it on Instagram. Answers on a postcard, please!

We older folk get frustrated with what we consider to be the deterioration of both written and spoken English. I expect I’m opening up a can of worms but I have a few pet hates. Here they are:-

Should of...(or would of, or could of) instead of should have etc.,

I was sat (which is apparently okay but I would always write or say, I was sitting. It’s a conditional conjugation I think. Now, I’m no grammar expert but it just feels right and looks right to me.

I wish I was…I prefer, I wish I were, which is correct, but little used.

Up until… is wrong. It should be until, or up to. 

their; their; there. Commonly misused.

Listening to BBC Radio 4 this week an interviewee kept saying, ‘it’s sort of... ‘ it is the most annoying phrase and she repeated it several times.  My late husband (not to be confused with The Man who is still with us), used to say, ‘It either is, or it isn’t, it cannot be sort of.’

The Man, does not like tautological statements. . . Reverting back; Pretty unique; dry desert; adequate enough. 

I am quite sure that many people reading this will have their own opinions as to what is right or wrong. I am also sure that there will be plenty of others wishing to correct or disagree with me. Carry on — I like a good discussion.

PS #OOTD  stands for Outfit Of The Day

grammar

Note Number 57…A Writing Retreat…

I’ve just returned home after four nights away in the beautiful Devon countryside, in the village of Sheepwash. It was a writer’s haven. Good healthy food, endless cups of tea or coffee, (and delicious wine), homemade cakes, flapjacks, gluten-free or vegan if required. Debbie Flint knows how to look after her guests at Retreats For You

Wine O’Clock…Table Laid for Dinner…Debbie working hard in the kitchen.

I loved my bedroom which was spacious, well-appointed with kettle, tea, coffee etc., towels, bathrobe and slippers. A writing desk close to the window where I could look out to a street in the village.  My one concern had been that I would have to share a bathroom (although large) with three other guests. I need not have worried. I never once met anyone coming in or out, nobody ever had to knock on the door to disturb me and I didn’t have to knock on the door to get anybody out! There was another bathroom on the ground floor, so we all managed very well thank you.

Retreats for You the big white house in the corner. My lovely room. The Village Square  and Pub at Sheepwash. Two lovely horses walking by my window. 

This was a screenwriting retreat organised by Retreat West . Our teacher, for three mornings was C M Taylor, or Craig to us. You can follow him on Twitter @CMTaylorStory. He shared his screenwriting and novel-writing expertise with us and we were all enthralled. Well, I’m easily pleased. NOT TRUE! This week I have learnt; techniques for structure, planning, character building (fictional character that is not mine) and so much more (what a cliché cop-out). From a personal point of view, I recieved some solid advice about which point in the story to begin my novel, which I hope to finish one day AND I would like to write the screenplay for it. A girl can dream can’t she?

the gang

All working very hard…(I need a haircut!)

Above all it was a productive, fun week with lovely people, all with one common interest— WRITING.

Amanda, Sylvia, Gayle and Craig…hope to see you all again soon and Debbie of course oh and Linda and the lovely young… something beginning with N…but not Ninette, I am so bad at names (help me out here screenwriting chums).

I am going back in November for the flash fiction retreat run by Retreat West, you can find the link here…hurry, there are only two spaces left!

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I have borrowed a book from the library in the Phonebox, I went cycling twice in my four day visit, I had a brilliant time. Devon is a beautiful county 

 

Note Number 55…If you can’t beat ’em Join ’em…

bikers

The Man and I in a few years time…

I have succumbed, I have given in, it was not my intention EVER to say yes but I have…and now, I am the proud owner of a bicycle … it is an E-bike which means it has a battery and can help me up the hills. Without this I would definitely not have said yes. Since we relocated to the UK from Italy, a couple of years ago, The Man has been cycling mad. This year he has planned many long, day rides (100 – 200k) and a big ride from St Malo to Nice in June (fifteen days I think) We are leaving on the ferry from Poole at the end of May, driving around France staying one, two, three nights here there and everywhere and he plans to ride almost every morning to keep up the fitness before the big ride. I’m going to abandon him and leave him to cycle across France and I’ll collect him from Bristol airport a couple of weeks later. I don’t think I’ll be attempting anything too adventurous on my bicycle, but you never know.

Jpeg waiting

‘When we’re in France you can walk the dog and I’ll ride the bike, I’ll be back by lunchtime and then we can do whatever you like,’ he said.

I wasn’t so sure about this arrangement and the dog didn’t look too happy about it either. I could tell what she was thinking.

‘I don’t mind being in the car for a few days then stopping in one place for a month where I can lay in the sun and chill. But, stop, start, stop, start every other day and only putting my paws on terra firma for a maximum of three days in one place does not sound like fun for me.’

dog thinking

Jpeg…’thinking’ 

 

I took her advice and booked her into the kennels for 19 days — not sure that was quite what she had in mind.

kennels

I’ve been out on my bike several times and I love it. I’m not hooked (yet) and I’m not out there trying to win any Strava segments or be Queen of the Dorset hills, but I’m happy to pedal along and zap up the power when I need it. The battery only works if you pedal, so you can never just sit there and do nothing, unless you’re going downhill of course. I’ve been shopping a couple of times and have to carry stuff home in a back pack — but, not for long, the panniers have been ordered. Not exactly the same as the ones below as mine will be blue.

bike panniers

 

I cannot wait to get to France and cycle along the Loire Valley, stop in a beautiful place and wait for The Man to join me (as I can get up the hills faster than him) for a picnic, which I will have transported.  I will lay back on the grass, snooze a bit and be inspired to write — I hope.

The dog, may not get off so lightly. I’m investigating the ‘harness and lead’ for bike riders so she can run along beside me. She doesn’t know what she’s in for!

 

My bike is a Volt Pulse LS Step Through E-bike from Volt bikes at London Bridge. I think I got the last one! LOVE IT.

Note Number 54. . .A Month to Catch Up

I knew it had been a while since I posted but could not believe it was the beginning of March, when we had all that ice and snow, that I last updated my blog. Well, it would be thoroughly boring to take you through the four weeks with a day blow by blow account so I’ll precis the 2nd March to the 30th and we’ll go into detail for the last couple of days.

Most of March was spent avoiding the rain, snow and ice, walking the dog in a sodden field or delivering The Man to outlying places in Dorset so that he could cycle back. Sunday 25th he fought his way from Wareham to Axminster via Poole and Weymouth and back to Wareham, 206 kilometres to be exact. Why? I have no idea but I was proud of him even though he was completely wrecked when I collected him at 8.45pm after 13 hours on the road, (including a couple of breaks.)

I have been writing plenty. My fingers are worn down as are the computer keys but it may be to no avail. I’ve performed my poem Waiting at Apothecary Words in Bridport and I entered the Flash Fiction Slam at Bridport Arts Centre — I wasn’t placed but it’s the taking part that counts. A friend of mine won the people’s vote, so that was enough for me.

Now for the Easter Weekend: We drove up from Dorset on Friday — the traffic going our way was not too bad but the poor holiday punters travelling west, were in slow, sometimes stationary traffic. The rain, however still poured on we poor travellers, whichever direction we were taking.

longdays

Jeremy Irons and Lesley Manville 

Friday evening I had booked tickets for A Long Days Journey into Night by Eugene O’Neill. I knew that it would be a long production and I should have paid more for the seats. The leg room in the Wyndham’s Theatre Grand Circle was akin to a Ryanair aeroplane. But, the play was excellent and the three-and-a-half hours fairly flew by. Lesley Manville as the morphine-adicted Mary was superb and Jeremy Irons played her actor husband whose penny pinching ways contribute to the angst and emotional turmoil of the family. You can read a review of the prodution here  . I was in awe of the sheer volume of diaglogue and on the one hand I was inspired to rush home and write a play, but, on the other hand I acknowledged the certain fact that I would never be able to produce such an eloquent piece of work.

title

Saturday we visited The Foundling Museum, I had wanted to go there since I saw in mentioned on the BBC programme Stitch in Time  when they had talked about mothers leaving a swatch of material with their baby when left at the Foundling Hospital. This little token would enable the mother to be reunited with their child in the future should they be in a position to do so.  The museum gives an insight to the lives of babies and children from 1739 – 1936 who were either abandoned in the streets or handed in to the hospital to be cared for. Now the hospital is now run in the form of the children’s charity Corum. Captain Thomas Corum was the founder of the hospital back in 1739. As is usual with these museums it has stirred in me a need to find out more about the stories of the children who were left here. It is heart wrenching to read the book of billets, (of which there are many) each billet is the admission slip for a foundling and they make sorry reading, just a number, date, age (if known), a few bare facts, a token, if there is one, attached to the page. I need to read more about it and will be searching for books to give me more information.

 

The association has a strong connection to The Arts, music, art, literature etc., with many well-known artists, writers and musicians donating their work to the foundling hospital to be used as a means of generating money and interest. Handel was a particularly ardent fan of the hospital and not only did he leave them a substantial sum of money on his death he also left the manuscript of the Messiah and all rights to it.

There are several displays in the museums and I was particularly drawn to Labelled,  A display exploring young people’s experiences of being labelled as a ‘child in care’. These were portrayed by means of a name tape in a child’s shirt with derogatory and hurtful comments made by bullies, teachers and others in charge.  Clever idea.  I was also intrigues by, Mead’s Mysterious Medicines created by some children from Great Ormond Street Hospital. You can read a little about these and the other installations here.

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In the basement of the museum was an exhibition of the poetry book The Lost Words I was particularly interested in this because I bought the book at Christmas, but I’m ashamed to say that I haven’t read it through properly yet, I will now though. What inspirational poems and illustrations. If you can get to the exhibition then you won’t be disappointed. If you can’t, then just buy the book. It’s beautiful.

the lost words

Last night we ate Vietnamese food at the Cây-Tre in Soho. Buzzing atmosphere and fab food. Loved it! We finished our evening back at our London base with a game of Cribbage…The Man won. How very annoying. I’ll get him this evening though!

Vietnamese

One of many dishes of Vietnamese food savoured on Saturday night.