Feeling pleased..... Every now and then I dabble in family history. Not having any living parents etc it's hard to trace stuff..... But every time I make a real effort something emerges, due to serendipity as much as anything else. My new discovery is a growing number of relatives who lived in Kentish Town, Camden. I'm thrilled to have found addresses although the houses themselves and sometimes the streets have long gone. I feel a sense of place and belonging; I must make a trip up to the big city and walk those streets.

Just another quickie to keep my hand in. Busy busy busy investigating sewing machines at present, my latest craze. I'm starting to get that guilty feeling again, that used to come to me when I wanted to write but didn't. I'm taking that as a positive sign.... In the 'real' world I'm hustling about to stave off anxiety and lurking grief 'cos the anniversary is looming. I can't seem to do creative/spiritual/worthwhile stuff at the same time as I do busybee routine, but at least I'm not slumped on the sofa with the OFF switch engaged.

A little like Lazarus

I had actually forgotten all about this blog until i decided to follow another blog and mine popped up...... maybe there is life after death. It's been a long time since I blogged here and a long time since I've done any writing at all. I'm starting again, and again. I have a lot of new beginnings but my stickability ain't the greatest. So maybe I'll be around for a while, maybe not.I'm in a better place now and feeling positive a lot of the time so fingers crossed. I'm used to living alone now.....after seven years of it. I'm trying to accept the encroachments of old age, but failing. I'll have to think about how I want to use this blog now. I'll be back.

Not much happening

Not been up to much recently aside from going to see Simon Amstell live.
He was terrific. How much of his material is real, how much invention I couldn't guess but he came across as complex and vulnerable; not an easy role for a stand up.

Nothing recent on the writing either owing to a combination of indolence and distraction by my late decision to do NaNoWriMo again with all that involves.

Lazy Lazy Lazy

I really do get tired of myself.
I had a decent little piece about Autumn half written in my head and just never got around to writing it down and now it's evaporated. Serve me right.

Anyway I have uploaded chapter 1 of 'Emma' for perusal. I am working on subsequent chapters slowly.
Just this morning I decided to sign up for NaNo again. Why in God's name have I done that? I really am crazy; I haven't got an idea yet alone an outline and I've got about a week to find one.
I think I'm trying to pressurise myself into disciplined work, but myself is usually wise to that old trick so it may not work and then it'll be tears before bedtime again.

You care for nothing

"You care for nothing but shooting, dogs, and rat-catching,and you will be a disgrace to yourself and all your family."
Erasmus Darwin to his son Charles.

It's hard to predict how anyone will turn out and it's easy to criticise younger people.

Children seem to have little similiarity to their parents. Having just had unpleasant dealings with Tony's son that comes from the heart !! Rejection of the older generation is commonplace and probably necessary for progressive thought, but sometimes it just seems like deliberate idiocy.
I'm not in a good mood this morning.

Monday mornin'

Start of a new working week and I actually did some writing for the novel this morning. Have a look over on 'Whatever Comes' if you're interested....

While walking Razz this morning I had a flash of long lost memory. There was a nice little single funnel steamer coming up the channel. It was still misty and she had lights on her fore and main masts.I said to the dog'Oh they're her riding lights I think'.

While wondering if I had the nautical term right I remembered a house I'd not seen in 50 years. It was called 'Riding Lights'.
The memory was of a girl called Lyn and me.I'd stayed at her house overnight and we snuck out after dark and tramped around the woods in the moonlight. At one point, trudging through someone's garden, we found a swimming pool that had been drained. It's deep end contained a large pile of fallen leaves and we'd rushed about in it shrieking and throwing armfulls in the air.
Some time later her father's car picked us up on the road and took us home.
I was never invited there again.
Strange that I should remember it so clearly today.