Gestation

Today, October 7th,  has been National Poetry Day in England. Why our country requires such a day I  have never been entirely sure. Arguably, every day of the year should be a poetry day.

Nonetheless, to mark this special day I thought I would craft a poem. I had an idea. I was playing around with the term "wild places" and thinking about the long walks I have undertaken in the last decade. Walks to remote reservoirs, across bleak moorland, down into wooded valleys or along clifftops. I have been to so many wild places.

Visiting wild places  - especially on your own - can be quite spiritual. You're not just walking for exercise or to capture great pictures with your camera, you are also often walking to soothe your soul and drink in some of the sustenance that Nature can provide. 

And so for a couple of hours I played around with two different approaches to this poetic notion. I made some lines and rhymes and allusions that satisfied me and seemed to be giving substance to the core idea I was pursuing. Unfortunately, it did not come together as completely as I had hoped it would and so as midnight approaches I have decided to leave both poems on the back burner.

Perhaps there'll be time for further crafting tomorrow or early next week. There'll be no time over the weekend as we are heading down to London on Saturday morning.

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Chopsticks

 I made Gyoza dumplings to take to work last night

I always eat with chopsticks when appropriate 

They make you eat smaller portions at a time

That’s all my news

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Question

A blog commenter said “Does God take up challenges?”  The question hasn’t left my mind yet. It’s a great question. It’s one I haven’t given much thought. God is omnipotent. Nothing is a challenge for Him. I do think He offers Himself everyone who sincerely still has questions as to whether to trust. God has been waiting for me to give it all to Him without caveats. I still cling to my own strength. I do it more than I want to admit. I don’t know if I’m answering the question.  All I know is I’m only free when I stop asking. I hope that God gives you peace. The challenge is:  Will you accept the gift?

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Sentimental Value

It’s been a bit of a heavy week all told.

A funeral, a few work issues, a friend’s partner’s suicide, more vet visits

All varying in their direct effect on me , 

I’m not complaining, there’s never one thing

Boffin Cameron has tested positive for covid so can’t dog sit next week….

That’s only a minor brickbat, but it’s my nephew’s wedding 

I will sort something out.

Last night I sat down in front of the tv to watch The Repair Shop

It’s a real indulgence and remains the best emotional romp on tv at the moment.

Now for those that don’t know The Repair Shop is a show that has the demographic of blogging individuals ( genteel folk of a certain age) they are asked to bring in a usually damaged personal item which holds a great deal of sentimentality and importance to them. A group of talented restorers are then challenged to see if they can return the item to its former glory and the results usually get everyone involved sobbing gently into their jumper sleeves.

Marcia at the reveal

Last night we had fifty something Marcia who brought in her broken childhood doll Diana.

Marcia had been placed into care with her brother because her mother , one of the Windrush generation and a single mom could not look after them single handedly. Diana was the only thing Marcia had of her own and the significance of the cheap plastic doll was all to evident when the repaired toy was returned to a quietly dignified and emotional Marcia 

I bawled buckets 

We all have items at home that hold varying degrees of sentimentality and importance to us

What would you say is your most treasured item?

Mine? 

I was thinking about this this morning

My gargoyle , who is presently camouflaged amid the houseplants

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