Sunday, September 21, 2008

A slow day, some Hallsfoot inspiration and poetic measures

A lovely lazy lie-in today, hurrah. And I have not done anything too strenuous. Not that I ever do, really. But I thought I ought to say it. After all, I need to conserve my energy for the existential horrors of the week ahead, AKA Freshers' Week or The Week Of Hell. As I have termed it on the kitchen calendar.

Lord H also wins Husband of the Week competition (as always, naturally ...) by rustling up a cooked breakfast, consisting of scrambled eggs, ham, mushrooms and tomato (for me - he hates tomato) on toast, that was at least a zillion times better than my poor attempts of last week. It was seriously scrummy and if I hadn't married him already, then I definitely would now. Ah, I've always known who the real chef in the household was ...

Buoyed up by breakfast, I have bravely faced the traumas of Hallsfoot's Battle and - bloody hell and put out the bunting! - even enjoyed it. Plus I had ideas and things to say. Bloody hell twice. Obviously, my writing enthusiasm is much enhanced by a good hot breakfast - makes mental note to remember that next time I'm stymied. I'm at just over 39,200 words now, so have that big 4-0 in my sights, aha. For today, I've quit while I'm ahead though - I want to come back to it, feeling hopeful rather than battered.

Lord H and I have also watched the first of last night's Medieval videos - The Medieval Mind. It was great - really gripping and I'm looking forward to the next one already. And, talking of TV, Strictly Come Dancing last night was also great. I voted for Austin - his waltz was magical and romantic and whisked me away, which is just what the waltz should do. Mind you, I was glad to see that John Sargeant didn't do too badly either - bloody good for him - a clean and moving performance. Not sure if poor Gary Rhodes will last the course however ...

Anyway, I've written a poem, which seems as if it's the first in a while, but may not be. I'm not sure. It's untitled. Titles are sooo last century, you know.

Measure the hours
like a poem;
steady each one
as you walk.

Savour the day’s jewelled metronome
and let the night fall

when it chooses.

Later I'm planning a nap. Well I don't want to overstrain myself - a novel chunk and a poem in one day is beyond the call of duty really. Tonight, there's the results programme for Strictly - though how I wish they wouldn't divide them up like this. It's such a bore and I do soooooo hate the irritation of the dance-off. Groan. Still, being an addict, I'll watch it, of course. And then there's poor Tess - don't tell him, Tess!! It's not worth it! Does she ever listen? No, no and no. Sigh.

This week's haiku:

I turn to winter
and mark the path with silence.
The wild gulls fly free.

Today's nice things:

1. Breakfast
2. Getting excited by Hallsfoot
3. Poetry, twice
4. Napping
5. TV.

Anne Brooke
Anne's website

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