IS THIS TOO MUCH CAKE?

Today I am not going to mention any achievement. Am blogging to say what a lovely lunch I’ve had. To be honest, I think enjoying how you’ve spent your time is one of life’s most worthwhile achievements.
What have I done? I’ve met a wonderful group of people. Just the journey was an adventure. Finding your way in the New Forest with instructions like “ignore the little white house on your left; a bit further on go through the opened gate with a big ‘Private’ sign. Follow this cart track a long way down, and you’ll find us in the last house on the right.”
This house had no name sign on gate or door, but it was the right one. The occasion? The six-monthly regional meeting of the SWWJ (Society of Women Writers and Journalists) I’d joined this organisation back in the spring and today was the first time I’d attended any of their functions. Everyone was friendly and welcoming and the good turn-out was a mix of ages. I first sat next to a young woman called Alli who wrote romantic comedy and had two novels published. The organiser was a lady in her eighties who apparently lived in a studio flat in Mudeford, very convenient when she was globe trotting and writing her travel books. The hostess and her husband were a couple of my own age. I loved seeing their framed snapshots on one of the many bookcases. A very proud dad with his seventies hairstyle cuddling his young children. Ah, those were the days …………..

A fantastic buffet lunch was provided. Oh, yum, yum. I ate far too much. Then it was impolite not to partake of some of the many puddings.

A talk followed. In fact, two talks. The Women’s Editor from the Bournemouth Echo (Nicki Findlay, I believe) brought along a colleague. She talked about her career path. In 1996 she thought she’d stay in Bournemouth for a short time then hit the big time in London. It never happened, a husband - then children came along, and she’s very pleased to be where she is. Ruth Oliver told us she came to be the Religious Affairs editor at the Bournemouth Echo and how she now does some freelance radio features for Woman’s Hour on Radio 4. We were impressed at her anecdote at how she went to a press conference at a WI Convention were Bob Geldof was the Important Guest, speaking on Fathers’ Rights. He was about to leave when she plucked up courage and walked up to the front, put her itsy-bitsy microphone towards him and asked “How is it emotionally, when you gain access to your children?” She played us the beginning of her recording: Geldof in his lilting Irish rhythm describing walking up the drive of the house which used to be his home, knocking on the door, and waiting, waiting, for his own children to open it.” He spoke to her for half an hour.

As I said, a thoroughly enjoyable and stimulating afternoon out. Sue, the hostess, insisted we take cake home with us. And now, I’m off out again. Really embarrassing, as a friend insisted on cooking for me tonight. Wednesday is the only night we can do, and we haven’t had a good old gas for ages. Trouble is, I’m still full up ….

Better late than never

‘Blogging might not be my cup of tea’ I said, and look –eight months have passed since I posted my one and only blog. Am told this is very naughty, lazy and certainly not moving with the times. So: I’ll try again.
In recent months I’ve had seven good things happen in the writing life. Yet it can be difficult to say it out loud. Comes down to having parents of a generation who’d been instilled by their parents that praise is a bad thing. I’m half expecting a wrap on the knuckles. “You bragging? We’ll soon put a stop to that.” Or “Modesty, dear, is becoming in a lady.” I’m told by today’s grandparents that children now are brought up in the other extreme and have no problem shouting from the rooftops “I’m fantastic!”
So, to acclimatise myself, I will continue to blog (regulary) and expose one achievement at a time. That’s a commitment to seven blogs and who knows what might have happened by the time I’ve made myself do those! Writers have to live in hope……

Hear me gently, this is my first time

Hullo, hullo, hullo – is there anybody out there? Yes, I’m a sad person who enjoys listening to Pink Floyd on my bedtime stereo. Though I’m not comfortably numb. Feeling very much alive now that the snow is melting, which means I can go out and meet flesh and blood speaking/singing people. Bliss. And at 61¾, do wake up thinking its good to be alive and well. Being housebound for nine days in the much- talked-about adverse British weather conditions, certainly gives you an idea of how lonely life can be for the constant housebound. My neighbour (86, I believe) rarely sets foot outside her door. She’ll sometimes stand there for a while if the sun comes out, breathing the fresh air in-between bouts of coughing. Always well-groomed and smartly dressed, always resourceful. Her Scrabble Club now come to her twice a week. You gotta admire women like that.

As for me: I am a virgin blogger. I’ve never blogged, rarely clicked on blogs. In fact, the word has just been added to my spell-check dictionary. Apparently everone’s doing it. As a writer, I’ve now been ‘nagged’ that writers must. The world has gone blog, blog, blog. What do you write about, when it’s going out there for the whole world to see?

But this month is a strange sort of silver anniversary. Twenty-five years since I decided to be a writer. If I’d known then what I know now, would I have been so optimistic? I can be proud of my achievements since then, but twenty-five years on ……? I’ve now been writing a year longer than I stayed married. That seemed a life time! This thought came to me this afternoon, whilst supping tea at Writing Buddies, now being held at Southampton’s inspiring venue –The Art House in Above Bar. Silver anniversaries merit celebration. Think I deserve a glass of wine.