Winter is flowing into Spring once again and although it’s nearly May (yes, I know it’s May now that I’m typing this up, but let’s just stick with it.) the forecast threatens snow today.
I have arrived at work two hours early, because I can’t keep track of my calendar at the moment, I’ve drunk too much coffee and so am drinking lots of water and forcing myself to write. Why am I forcing myself to write? Because I’ve not been writing and it’s a good habit to get myself back into.
So in the last 6 months I have worked, read lots of books*, done a bit of screen printing, investigated European folk patterns and embroidery on a superficial level, watched some films, cut and dyed my hair, walked along a river and seen a heron standing before me, looked after my sister, read some more books and made a mess of my bedroom. I keep trying to control the bedroom mess but it’s having none of it.
I keep intending to make myself my first dress. I’ve got material, zips, thread and patterns in preparation, but haven’t managed it yet. Perhaps by the end of June. Or August. Or for Christmas.
I now live with a man who is sort of my boyfriend; my sister is now engaged. My brother turned 30, a new nephew was born. I’ve done some physio for my knee but undoubtedly not enough. I’ve had sleepless nights, trips to the doctor, journeying on buses trams and trains. I’ve been re-designing the kitchen, as much as you can when it’s not your house and you are renting. I’ve met creative people and found new places around the city. I’ve sung at a fundraiser and lost my voice.
I’ve been reluctant to write because everyday, fairly contented life doesn’t seem to be something that people would want to read about. And the person I’m sharing my everydays with is quite private and I’m not sure he’d want me writing about him. So I haven’t. And I don’t want to just write when something is wrong or troubling me, because I don’t suppose that’s a thrill a minute for a reader either.
So I suppose I’m going to have to devise something to write about, and so I’ve been looking at the mess of my room and thinking that perhaps I should sort out at least one section and make things from the books I’ve already collected. So amongst general writings of outings, activities, thoughts and, well, stuff, I’m now going to write at least once a month about something I’ve made inspired by my making books.
And you can hold me to that.
*A list, by no means an exhaustive one, of books that I have read in the last 6 months:
The Boy from Reactor 4; The Boy Who Stole from the Dead; The boy Who Glowed in the Dark- Orest Stelmach
Night Road; The Nightingale – Kristin Hannah
House of shadows – Nicola Cornick
Seven Sisters – Lucinda Riley
The Heart of a Woman; Letter to My Daughter; A Song Flung up to Heaven; I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings; Singin’ and Swingin’ and Gettin’ Merry Like Christmas; Gather Together in My Name – Maya Angelou
The Colour Purple – Alice Walker
The Scarlet Countess – Barry Wynne
Code Name Verity – Elizabeth Wein
A Short History of England – Simon Jenkins
Queens Consort: England’s Medieval Queens – Lisa hilton
Human Croquet – Kate Atkinson
The Wild Girl – Kate Forsyth
Helen of Sparta – Amalia Carosella
The Grimm Legacy – Polly Shulman
The Taxidermist’s Daughter – Kate Mosse
The Brides of Rollrock Island – Margo Lanagan
The Girl Who Saved the King of Sweden – Jonas Jonasson
The Rose Girls – Victoria Connelly
Three Daughters – Consuelo Saah Baehr
The Dead Days – Marcus Sedgwick
The Mermaid’s Sister – Carrie Anne Noble
The Good Girl – Mary Kubica
How to be a Woman – Caitlin Moran
The Good Neighbour – A.J. Banner
Dead Man’s Chest; The Castlemaine Murders; Death by Water; Away with the Fairies; Murder in the Dark; Death at Victoria Dock; Flying Too High – Kerry Greenwood
Politics and the English Language – George Orwell
The Shepherd’s Crown – Terry Pratchett