Reflecting

Today presented itself with many reasons to reflect. The alarm clock shrilled out at 5.50am, with the news of the final hours of John Allen Muhammad, the US sniper who shot down 14 people in the Washington area in 2002, killing 10 of them. The report sent shivers down my spine, as details were given of his last hours, up to and including his death by lethal injection. This news was swiftly followed by more outrage about Gordon Brown's spelling mistakes in his heartfelt letter (in my opinion) to the mother of Jamie Janes. I feel for them - they have lost children in awful circumstances, and the pain for both of them will never go away. So my problems now seem insignificant by comparison, on a day where we also pay homage today to those who died in WW1 and remember all those who have fallen in the name of our country. War is not the answer, we should talk more, as Gordon did to Mrs Janes. Despite the "outrage" from the Sun (trash) newspaper, who is gauging it's own war against the government as it swiftly changes it's political allegiance to suit the country's mood - she now appears to have forgiven him. We should talk more, wage war less and be prepared to forgive. Life is too short.

Moving on

I heard a quote today, and typically of me I cannot remember it word for word. It goes along these lines - "Major changes in our lives rarely happen of our own choosing. It's how we respond to those changes that is important." Or something like that. These last few weeks our uncertain future has become more certain. I for one always think the worse will happen and then I am not disappointed! Redundancy has pulled the rug from under everyone's feet. Those who have been working here for 30 years or more are no more or less terrified of the future than those who haven't been here long. It's a shame that people think "oh it's alright for you, you'll get a decent payout" - well quite frankly I'd rather have a job, and actually no, it isn't alright for me. Money can't compensate for the feeling that I have about going for an interview after so long out of the loop (it will be 32 years by the time the chopper falls). I don't drive either. So my ability to get a job is going to be extremely limited, relying on public transport is not something I'd envisaged doing at my age. My OH will probably end up living out of a suitcase for the rest of his career, as he'll probably have to do a weekly commute to wherever his office is moved to. So much for quality of life. I am not asking for sympathy nor am I wallowing in self pity. Just a little understanding would be nice. Rant over. I AM going to be positive about this major life change. I accept that I can't change others. Just don't drag me down with you!

Today....

...today I began to notice a bit of a change in the atmosphere at work. People went about their business at a much slower, more gentle pace and showed each other a little more kindness. Not that my work colleagues are unkind at all - but from the looks and glances around the room, and comments from people I don't normally speak to, I think we have begun to see a much more caring attitude evolve towards each other. Everyone is hurting. Even those who thought they would love to be made redundant and escape have been caught up in the surge of emotion at the moment. I spoke to someone yesterday who described it as a grieving process, and we should expect to experience a range of emotions over the coming months. A lot of us have "grown up" at work, having been there since we left school. Friendships and marriages have flourished, it's a bit like having an extended family at your fingertips, which is sadly slipping from our grasp. At least we have the luxury of up to 2 years to plan our futures, unlike some redundancies which are imposed almost immediately. I'd like to think a lot of us will manage to stay in touch for many years - this has been an incredible support network for so many people.

So now we know.............

The long awaited and much dreaded news has arrived. Our office is one of 5 offices - all of which are in the South-East - which will close in 2011. The news has hit us all like an out of control juggernaut. Although one can prepare for the worst, there is always an element of hope in the back of our minds that "it won't be us...". Except this time it was, and it feels like a bereavement in many ways. To lose what has essentially become an extension of one's family in such a manner leaves me feeling angry, confused, scared, emotional and quite uncertain of my future. It seems so harsh to close 5 offices in the same region, leaving the vast majority of people no option but to take redundancy. The nearest one is 100 miles away, and the chances of moving are pretty slim for most of us. So , to see the headlines today of the expressed "surprise" that we are still in recession amazes me. I feel so sorry for those members of staff have already moved once from a closed office, but even more for those who have young families and both parents work for the same office. Civil Servants have become as vulnerable as the private sector.

So, what next? Answers on a postcard please......

A new beginning?

Only 8 more days to go, until the biggest announcement our department has even had to make will be public knowledge. Years ago, a job in the Civil Service was described as "A job for life". The media often poked fun at us, with their caricatures of bowler hatted gents and supposed endless tea-making. Our department became an Agency many years ago, one that was self-financing and extremely efficient, making money for the Government. So, not such a drain on the tax-payer. It became a place that looked after it's staff well, and was a family-friendly environment. Most of the staff have worked there in excess of 10 years. I have worked in the department for 31 years! So it really feels like another family to me, despite my moans and groans from time to time. You see, the government want to make savings - and we are one of them. The conspiracy theories are rife at the moment - Chinese whispers have escalated into the hottest gossip in our office's history! All very unsettling. I lurch between "yeah great, redundancy might be a new opportunity" to "oh God, how on earth will we manage?" and "who on earth is going to employ me now?" After so long in one job, I cannot see what employer would want me. It's been over 20 years since I had an interview (for a promotion) - it is so scary. Maybe it's the kick up the backside I need to write. At the moment I am finding it impossible to get anything down (rants aside), I have a thick grey fug in my head instead of lots of beautiful words and ideas floating around. My brain is like the "pea-soupers" of the Smog age. I just need to know now. Hope the next week goes quickly!

Let them eat cake

This week I had an idea. I heard about the Macmillan Cancer Support's "World's biggest coffee morning", and wondered if our charity committee at work were doing anything for it. Sadly no. I was disappointed but not entirely surprised. It's been a year of rapidly declining morale, cutbacks and redundancies. From an office with an active S&S association, we are now left with a dribble of enthusiasm from people who all now have the threat of redundancy hanging over them. It's not a good place to be right now. But it's also an office that has been hit hard by cancer over the last couple of years. Some have recovered, but some lost their fight. They deserve better I thought, someone ought to do something! A casual conversation with colleagues followed, which uncovered many closet bakers........and so we decided to hold our own cake sale in aid of Macmillan, in our team, and invited the whole office to join us!

From worrying about whether we had enough to sell, this morning I was more concerned that we had too much and that no-one would turn up! Well I needn't have worried - my faith in the generosity of my colleagues was rewarded - we raised a brilliant £127, in just a few hours. What was even better, people actually had FUN - something we have had precious little of in recent months at work. We all went home a pound or two heavier but who cares, it's the weekend! For very little effort, quite a bit of money was raised. Macmillan Cancer Support will be a little richer, and I think we will be too.

Older

I haven't blogged for a while I know. A raging toothache took hold last weekend, followed by the inevitable visit to the dentist and the parting of company with (a) a cracked old crown and (b) many pennies. The whole week was ruined by sleepless nights, a "soft" (= boring) diet and much complaining on my part. The teeth I have left are protesting, partly due to many years of never seeing the inside of a dentist's waiting room plus a load of incompetent genes waiting to pounce. It started when I was little, with a visit to a nasty Welsh dentist (no offence to the Welsh but he was a B%%*$d!!). This had the consequence of my developing a lifelong fear of dentists, and by the time I had found one that restored my trust, it was all too late. It's all part of getting older I guess. That and an expanding waistline, worsening vision (I am Vision Express's best ever customer!) crap hearing (see previous blog). Now the sweats of the Peri-menopause pop up to irritate me from time to time, which doesn't improve my mood! I am by nature a "cup half full" lady. I always try & see the positive and funny side of everything as the alternative is too depressing in my opinion! Weeks like this see me turning into a temporary grumpy old woman (I could give Jenny Eclair a run for her money!) but at least today, at long last the antibiotics appear to have worked - yippee, just in time for root canal treatment joy tomorrow lunchtime - wish me luck!!

Digital miracles

For years I've suffered from Tinnitus. A hangover from my teenage years of listening to loud music through headphones followed by loads of concerts in my twenties and thirties. You know that loud wine you get in your ear after you come out of a gig? No, not your other half! It used to fade away, but some years ago it decided to stay. And get louder. And louder. Until the high pitched ringing started to be louder than the things we are all supposed to hear. Like birdsong. A conspiratorial whisper. Or what someone sitting next to you is saying without having to look at them and try and lipread! As I type, I realise what a virtual tap dance is being played out on the keyboard - it's so loud!! So, much to the delight of my OH - I took myself off to the doctors in February for a hearing test. And guess what? I have what they call "high tone" deafness, and mild hearing loss. This morning I took charge of a minor miracle in the latest digital technology. An "open mould" digital (Siemens, no less) hearing aid. A whole new and noisier world is opening up to me. I had not realised what a muffled environment I had been living in for many years. I hope the Tinnitus will subside - it is believed that as a sufferer gets used to all the "normal" everyday noises around them that the alien ones will fade into the background. For now, I am in awe. I will also be doing more typing on my lovely quiet laptop because the pc is so noisy!!

Electrickery

This morning I nearly killed my husband. Before you all run off to dial 999 it was an accident, honest!! A genuine, bonafide, honest 'injun mix up over what fuse was switched off. He had successfully fitted a new light to our spare bedroom/study. Very nice it looks too. Now it was onto the landing to fit another. He tested it, switching the fuse box back on (is this the right terminology? I know nowt about blasted "electrickery!") but nothing. So he went to check the wiring again. In my half asleep, somewhat hungover state I managed to confuse things over what lights were on or off when he switched the fuse box off. Only he didn't - switch the right one off that is. All I heard was a loud, blood curdling yell, followed by a thud. My heart dropped into my boots and right back up again as my legs turned to lead. As I ran up to look, I dreaded what I would find - but there he was, standing on the landing, screwdriver in hand - grinning at me. "I think I just got electrocuted" he said, shaking his arms and shivering. Luckily it was a low voltage shock, as most household shocks are (as I googled later) but it had left a large cut in one finger and a small burn on his other elbow. The "entry" and "exit" wounds apparently. I feel so guilty, I think my heart was racing for the rest of the day at the thought at what might have happened. And the light fitting? It was fitted perfectly. Neither of us had noticed there was and "on/off" switch on it.

New stuff

There has been a bit of delay with my blogging. I have written lots of notes about my week in Hay-on-Wye at the literary festival. When I got home, I realised that I had a lot more reading to do for the next assignment in my Welsh history course than I first thought. And there was me thinking (smugly) how organised I was. Roll on July - when the course finishes. I have plans you see. Poetry is where I am hurtling towards, and I may start writing my memoirs (posh name for a diary I know, but I have never kept one) which will be the ramblings of a slightly dotty forty something woman who lacks motivation, looking back on her life. After all, I have no children (as a friend and fellow blogger has also realised) to pass on my history to. I think it is important to write things down, for reflection and perspective. My thoughts generallyconsist of rather mixed up ramblings in my brain who are all competing with each other to get out - that's what it feels like to be in my head, scary!! So thank you Larisa, for giving me an idea and a bit of direction. I also need to re-write a story I submitted for my final assignment for my degree. I think it has potential - I certainly got a great mark for it, so fingers crossed I can do something positive with it.

The rage has subsided.....all thanks to Tony Curtis...

A few days ago I ranted away the workday blues....today I am chilled and at one with the world. Yesterday was the best day. We saw Stephen Fry at the festival, speaking about America. He reminded us of something. Our habit of laughing and looking down on the Americans is a bad one, we seem to have acquired a bad habit (unfounded, in his opinion) of thinking that just because we have a history and know literature well enough to speak about it in an articulate way that we are somehow superior. His travels around the US have taught him otherwise, he says. They are such a smart race, and we should not underestimate them. (George W Bush aside of course!!) A lesson in humility here.

7pm and we saw, in my opinion, one of the greatest movie stars of our time, Tony Curtis. Aged 83, still with a twinkle in his eye and a sharp and sardonic humour! What a privilege it was too. And for him too, he said. The stories kept coming, he commanded the stage and audience alike, despite a frail body (a stroke 3 years ago), he is a true fighter. He even stood up on stage and attempted to show us how he perfected a woman's walk for "Some Like it Hot", nearly falling off stage in the process but he laughed it off - much to the interviewers distress I might add!

Two power cuts did not faze him either. He just kept on chatting to the front row, as if nothing had happened. Actually he was chatting up an attractive woman in row two. Life in the old dog yet!! Afterwards, we ran round to the bookshop to get his book signed. A first for me - I don't do the "autograph thing", just admire from afar. We had our friend's six year old with us, who was totally oblivious to who he was or what he represented. AfterTony signed his book for my Mum, he then had a chat with Max - I always think it is so lovely when an old person sees a child - for a few minutes they regress and enter their world. Their eyes light up, their smile widens, and they totally engage with them. Max was probably wondering why on earth this old man was talking to him! He then grabbed another piece of paper and wrote on it "Max - A pleasure - Tony Curtis". I then plucked up courage and shook his hand - such smooth skin for an old fella, and he smiled and winked as we went on our way.
It totally made my day! Perhaps I'll pluck up more courage to do the "autograph thing" in the future. But I'll choose wisely.

Hay Rage

You've heard of road rage, well I have just experienced a new phenomenon, "Hay Rage"!! (copyright Rob Thompson!) I knew it would take a few days to shake off the heavy cloak of work stress, but I thought a glorious sunny day in a beautiful place would help the blues melt away. Until a short stroll this afternoon from the village of Hay on Wye to the festival site half a mile down the road. Perhaps my intolerance levels are still high, or perhaps I should have taken that "chill pill". They stretched 5 abreast in front of us. There was not a millimetre of pavement left. Still they kept coming.There were just three of us, and what seemed like three hundred of them! By "them" I mean our fellow festival goers, who seem to live on the planet rude and inconsiderate. Obviously that phone call they were making at the time was sooo important, or the conversation so in depth that our very existence passed them by. We were invisible. We shouldn't be surprised. The London crowd (or so they sounded) acted as if they were still fighting the crowds in, well, London! "Sorry" we kept saying, as we moved out of their way (why do we do that?). "Don't worry, I'll walk in the road and play with the traffic!" No, I didn't say that last one out loud. Well it is Bank Holiday I suppose. We English are used to cramming in some enjoyment into three short days of what we hope to be mostly sunshine this year. It isn't all like that thank God. Yesterday we met a lovely old lady who was in a wheel chair, and we sat and chatted while we had tea. "I am hoping to come and see my friend Roger McGough" she said, in a most unpretentious-like manner. I was impressed. We had a lovely chat, about what the festival was like years ago, before the site moved to the outreaches of the town. Most of the people are lovely though. And the site is especially lovely at night, and on Tuesdays, after the weekenders toddle off back to London town or wherever their busy and important lives lead them to. I sound like an old cynic don't I? Or a grouchy old woman? But all I want is for a few old fashioned manners and a bit of consideration for fellow human beings. After all, we are all here for the same reason aren't we? Never mind, another glass or ten of wine will make it all seem better I'm sure!

Holidays

We're off on holiday next week to Wales. But not just any old holiday. I am stupidly excited as it will be my third visit to the Hay on Wye literary festival. My friend Jane and I have been eagerly monitoring the website for months now, waiting for news about who is going to be appearing. In a bit of a frenzy some weeks ago we logged on to try & book to see some of our favourite authors, musicians and national treasures. What makes its special is its accessibility. The tickets are relatively cheap, you get to listen to someone you really admire for an hour or so, and then you can buy their book and get them to sign it in the bookshop afterwards if you want to. The place is just buzzing with excitement, everyone with a common love of literature and the Arts. Last year we came out of a session with Ian McKewan only to find our other halves sitting at one of the picnic benches having a chat with Terry Jones of Monty Python fame. What a lovely man!! After I had lifted my jaw off of the floor, we wandered over to say hello, and he offered me his seat (which is now my claim to fame!!). He had just finished doing a podcast for the radio, and had been chatting to my husband about Richard II's place in history, and how Maggie Thatcher may be seen a hundred years from now by comparison. As you do!! This year we are seeing Alan Bennett, Graham Swift, Kate Atkinson, Stephen Fry, Simon Armitage and Carol Ann Duffy to name but a few. Our friends are taking their 6 year old to see lots of children's authors such as Jacqueline Wilson and Julia Donaldson. Each year we say we'll have a break from it the following year, but the lure of the place is just too much......

Sad day

I heard some sad news today. A colleague at work, who retired early at the end of last month died last night after a battle with cancer. She was so brave. We all thought she was winning her battle, she was obviously trying to spare us. She leaves behind a father and sister. I had known her for many years, although we were not close friends she was a beautiful person, both inside and out. She always had a kind word to say, never spoke badly of other people and always had time for others. Sometimes words are not enough, but I felt moved enough to write a small tribute to her. Here it is.

Flying now

Last night a beautiful one soared
Leaving behind ominous pain
This morning she sprinkled us
With her tears of April rain.
An unexpected departure,
Tears of disbelief spill over
And how appropriate is our grief
Compared with patriarchal loss.
Sparing us the details
We hoped for some respite
But prayers went unanswered
When she soared away last night.

Rest in peace x

Time for a rant!

Spellcheck


Oh it’s a pet hate of mine. Articles, letters, emails, you name it, anything I happen to read that contains terrible spelling.

The usual culprits which annoy me most…

Loose instead of lose (when you’ve lost something!)

Freind instead of Friend (“i” before “e” except after “c” we were taught at school!)

And don’t get me started on punctuation! I would write a book on it if Eats, Shoots and Leaves had not already been published!

The worse use of grammar one is by the media - “Hotel”. Since when was it “an hotel” with a silent “H”?? The Oxford Dictionary clearly states, as did my English teacher at school that it is “a hotel” and the “h” is definitely NOT silent!!

Proper use of grammar, punctuation and spelling is all being lost in a silent murk of text-speak, email language and the dreaded Americanisation of the spellchecker. No, we do not always use a Z when pluralising words!! I had to type that word twice as the auto-spellchecker changed it to a Z – that really says it all. I have tried to install UK English in my spell checker, but the bloody American software changes it back! Sorry I don’t mean to offend any American readers of my blog.

I don’t have kids, so I am not sure what is being taught in school these days. Most of my grounding in spelling and grammar however, was in Junior school (aged 7-11) and was ingrained in me by the time I went to Secondary school. I guess sloppy use of grammar and so on in the media is not helping, our eyes and ears are seeped with it a lot of the time, so perhaps we are persuaded something is right when it is wrong simply because we see it so often.

But it doesn’t stop me being irritated by it, and here is an ideal opportunity to have a jolly good rant about it! Thanks for listening…..

Disappointed...

.....in the great British public!

Today we did a "Table Top" sale at the local church hall. Primarily to try & get rid of some of our stuff we've accumulated over the years including many (sob!) books. I was sure people would want to buy some, most of them were in excellent condition. There were some Booker prize winners in there, plus some Clive Barker books (hardback) in mint condition and a couple of classics as well.

Well, do you know we did not sell a single one! Oh, they came in their droves to buy keyrings, ornaments, garden lanterns, a dog bed and even some tatty old football programmes. We made the princely sum of £13 for a couple of freezing cold hours in the church hall, did our bit for the community but still left with a car boot full of, well, mainly books!!

I hope the local charity shop fares a little better, 'cos that's where they destined.....as for the great British public today, well they will never know what hours of delight they have missed!

Work work bizzy bizzy bang bang!!

I haven’t blogged for a while, been busy busy busy! So much is going on at work, loads of people are leaving (taking redundancy) or retiring (early retirement package) so it’s been a round of collections and cards, laughter and tears. The stalwarts of the organisation are leaving, and these are the people I grew up around, as I’ve been there since I left school at 16. It will seem so strange to watch a new bunch of people take over pivotal roles, and interesting to see how well they cope in such tough and demanding times. I have mixed feeling over this. Part of me says that it’s time for a younger bunch to take over, but another part of me is scared for them, I would not want to be in their shoes. Me? I am happy to come in and do a good job and go home again these days. I used to think I wanted to be a manager, but realised I cannot cope with some of the bullying and unfairness that goes on. I just take it all too personally and get too stressed! Life is too precious to let a silly thing like work make you ill. Been there, done that, and don’t want that T shirt any more! So it’s time to knuckle down and get on with what I want to do – my OU course, some writing here and there, and keep my head down until we know what is happening with our jobs!

The race to read

I am a bibliophile. I'm not just someone who likes to read, but someone who truly loves and appreciates all that is to do with books. Not just what beautiful surprises are contained therein, but their aesthetic qualities, their smell (see earlier post!) and what they represent. Someone said to me recently that they thought that the future of books lay in the "ebook" and what can be found online. I have to say I disagree vehemently and hope that they are wrong! Books can contain the works of a lifetime, some of genius, some are just entertaining, some thought provoking and deep. To open the first page and gently crease back the spine as one delves into the unknown is a pleasure that is surely unmatched by typing into a computer or squinting at a small screen to try and read the words on a tiny screen. At this very minute I have a dilemma which consists of "The White Tiger" by Aravind Adiga, a biography of Francis Bacon, two Doris Lessing novels and about a dozen or so other books bought in recent months. On top of that, a book about Welsh History from the Open University beckons as I start a short course in April. Books represent so much that I have become today, and indeed what I would love to do in the future. Our apartment is full of them. I do try and offload some from time to time but every loss is heart wrenching! Soon we'll be bulging at the seams so I'll have to try and be ruthless, but it's so hard! What do books mean to all of you?

New Course

I logged on to my OU page today, to great excitement. The course materials for my next course (for I am an addict) were despatched yesterday! It's called "Small Country, Big History: Themes in the history of Wales". That means that hopefully in under a week's time a lovely parcel will arrive full of goodies, including a big fat lovely new gorgeous smelling course book! I will have a good sniff of it before delving into something new to learn. Well, it keeps the grey matter ticking over! Anyone else have a book smelling fetish or is it just me?

Guilty?

I was in Tesco after work. Suddenly, I had in my hand a packet of those gorgeous dark chocolate covered biscuits, you know, the expensive Belgian ones, just 9 in pack. I was just going to have one, maybe two with a well deserved cup of tea when I got home. I'll save the rest for the weekend, I told myself as I slunk through the checkout, trying to disguise my purchase along with a packet of ham and some toilet rolls. Half an hour later. Feet up. Peppermint tea brewing. It had been a good day at work, I had left my end of year appraisal beaming with pride. After a small sip of the tea, I sighed and opened the packet. The inevitability of what would happen in the next ten minutes was pushed to the back of my mind. I tried to fight the hormonal surge, as I lusted after the smooth creamy chocolate which melted in my mouth as the sharp crunch of the rich tea type biscuit echoed in my ears. What a juxtaposition. Opposite but perfectly matched. One biscuit had made just a small dent in my insatiable appetite for their chocolatey perfection. I may as well finish this section of the box. In a blink of an eye, and another cup of tea later, the box lay sad and empty by my side on the sofa. I guiltily hid it beneath the rotting banana skins in the kitchen bin. After a few minutes of chocolate heaven I began to feel slightly queasy, as I prepared a nice healthy salad for dinner.

Tolerance

The older I get, the less tolerant I have become. An oh how guilty it makes me feel sometimes! It's mainly a work issue for me. I feel like a bit of an outsider sometimes, in respect of not really being able to relate and talk about my interests with like minded folk. I could go on about how one particular person irritates me to high heaven but this blog is in a public domain so anyone could put two and two together......oh dear, I had better stop now! Everyone is so nice at work (in the main) so to have become almost irrational about one person is, well, irrational. So, I need to put all this negative energy to good use....and write about him/her (see, not many clues) and try and unravel how exactly he/she manages to bring out the worst in me! Not good for my blood pressure either....

Anyway, last night was productive, I read quite a bit and wrote two poems. A major breakthrough!!

Poems

I like to write poems, it's not a regular thing, but most enjoyable when I do. I love the challenge of economy with language, in expressing a mood, an occasion or, in this instance the pure pleasure of buying a new book. In this poem, I am imagining a newly published writers excitment in seeing their book on a shelf for the first time....something we can all relate to I am sure!

A new book

A glance up at shelves
laden with secrets and revelations,
turns her stomach upside down
with excitement and anticipation.

Her eyes dart back and forth
homing in on her chosen one -
the sleekest cover, a well shot
photo with appealing font.

An elegant hand at full stretch,
tips the cover forward,
parting those secrets from its sisters,
her fingers caress the stiff new pages.

She inhales, as the dry print
on virgin pages wafts past
her nostrils. Her closed lids part,
she smiles, exhales, and reads.

Finding time

It's a problem, finding time. I work a 37 + hour week, am usually in a daze from working on a pc all day, then it's home to try & go to the gym (note the word "try", it takes a lot of effort!), cook dinner, make tomorrows lunch and think about what to do with the rest of my evening. We live in a 2 bed apartment, pretty much open plan so there's not much room for peace and quiet. Since starting the blog I have discovered that having the tv on in the background (I live with a sky sports addict) is a real distraction! It sounds awful but I cherish time alone to try and do some writing. This makes me feel guilty! I need to get over this and organise my time better. Hubby would probably be happy to put the headphones on to listen to the tv, so I conclude from this I am just finding excuses. Annie has kindly pointed me the direction of where I could send my stuff, they look like just the kind of thing I like to write, so that is promising. I feel like a sloth wading in treacle at the moment, the winter weather isn't helping. Do sloths hibernate do you know?

Writing I like

I was thinking about this today. I would love to start putting some of my work "out there", but it seems the kind of things I write don't often have happy endings, and are perhaps not quite right for womens weekly magazines. So, I am on the hunt for alternative publications that might be right for my work. I thought I'd put a few poems on here, to see how they are received. I mentioned the blog to a couple of people today, the idea of one went down well! I only know of 3 people who have one, so my experience of them is limited. Any tips?

What have I done?

Ok so it's Mandy's fault. (Sorry Mandy) I just followed the instructions and got drawn in. It seems I now have a blog so I can reply to my friend and fellow writers posts on her blog! Who knows, this could be the start of something, the kick up the a**e I need to get me writing properly. Without the aid of an OU prop/course/online forum - who knows where it could lead?