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Three Mothers and Some Geraniums

Well, I’ve been writing this afternoon. Or, to be more precise, re-reading ‘Clive and Min’ and trying to sort out a few plot cul-de-sacs I’ve created and need to negotiate myself out of using a series of cunning 15 point turns. I’ve only myself to blame for this narrative turmoil. I go running full tilt at a chapter and think, ‘Oooh, hello! That’s a good idea to introduce,’ then get totally carried away with the whole excitement and joy of writing, and then I put the writing to one side because I am distracted by sewing, gardening or a jolly good book. And then, when I pick it up again, I find I’ve got myself into a proper pickle. A bit like leaving off knitting a complex cardie halfway through and then stuffing it into a bag for a few months without marking if I was half way up left side, right side, sleeve, back or that fiddly bit on the neck.

A lot of unravelling ensues...

...and so, where I thought I had two possibilities for Cecelia’s parentage - the real one and the red herring one - I find that I have, inadvertently and in fact, got three!

I’ll not deny it - I was wild with excitement at the discovery of this third option because even I hadn’t thought of it! It just sort of morphed and appeared in that delicious way that sometimes happens when you are a writer who goes with the flow of the journey (like I do) rather than a writer who plans character, plot and narrative with meticulous precision (like the ones who get publishing deals.)

It has cheered me up no end! Brace yourselves....!

This also cheers me up...

I bought these geraniums from a supermarket a few weeks ago when they were little more than a green stick, a couple of leaves and the hint of a budling. £1.50 each, they were - and they have gone mad! Spreading themselves along the kitchen window, they are, like a glorious firework explosion of stunning red that the photo does not do justice. They are especially cheering on dull, drippy days like this. I love their scent, too. Reminds me of the greenhouse I used to hide in as a child to avoid having my hair cut by the mobile hairdresser. I was desperate to have long hair. My mother was desperate to keep it short á la pudding basin style. I think my absconding habits must have paid off eventually because by the time I left primary school I had a pony tail!

I shall be taking cuttings from the geraniums. They’ll look fabulous outside in the courtyard next year.


Comments

aileen g said…
Hi Denise - hope you are over you hypophrenia (love a new word to casually drop into conversation) for the time being. I think we all have days like that and also the days when we feel on top of the world for no particular reason. I think you sometimes just have to go with the feeling and not worry unless it happens too often. Anyway I am braced (and girding my loins - whatever that means) for further chapters of Clive and Min, and I already have 2 people in mind as parents so to throw in another? Well that's just teasing. I have been crafting this week as I have a flurry of birthdays in the next week or so. The new cutting machine nearly went out of the window a couple of times but I'm slowly getting to grips with it. The craft room looks like someone's held a ticker-tape parade in it so that's tomorrow's to-do list sorted. Take care.
Denise said…
Hi Aileen! I’m fine now, thanks. Keeping busy, that’s the key, as no doubt you know from all your glorious arty crafting activity. You sound like you’ve had a proper flurry of busyness, and hurrah for that! I’ve written another 4 thousand words words of ‘Clive and Min’ - they need editing, but there should be a new chapter on the blog within the week. The inspiration ball is on another roll. Hopefully, it‘ll see me through to the end of the novel. I trust you are keeping well?
aileen g said…
I'm very well, thanks Denise. As for my crafting - well, let's just say I should get a 10 out of 10 for effort but presentation definitely needs work. Do you know any 6yr olds who could train me? I've never considered myself "arty" in the visual sense of the word. My brother and sister (and Dad actually) are/were all good artists. I followed my Mum in being more word-orientated. She died when I was only 7 but I can well remember her quoting bits of poetry to me, and she taught me to read long before I went to school. So why on earth have I decided, in my 7th decade, that I want to be able to produce works of art? Well a passable birthday card where I don't get glue in my hair, or on my face, or on my clothes at least. Luckily all the recipients so far have been very polite and/or good actors. Well done on the writing - it's not easy with all the other stuff going on.
I had a pudding basin hairstyle too as being motherless there was no-one to sort my very flyaway hair out each morning so my Dad sent me off each term to have the chop. I'm sort of surprised, and grateful, that he didn't just take me to the barbers when he went as it was much cheaper and we had very little money.
Denise said…
Aileen, my youngest granddaughter, Elizabeth, is 6 and very into her art! I’m sure she could offer some pointers!! However, I am sure that you are being very modest about your crafting skills and that your cards are beautiful and all the more appreciated by their recipients for being made by you especially for them. A unique gift indeed. Just carry on, oh fellow crafter! If you enjoy what you are doing, that is treasure in itself.

And it sounds like you should be writing a novel, too, being a wordsmith. Or have you already written a novel?? I would be interested to know about your own creative writing. Shudders at the idea of the barbers, too. But it did make me wonder why women have to pay more for a hair do than men. Why is that? Do we have more challenging hair, or are we paying extra for the fripperies? I’m off to the hairdresser in a couple of weeks. It’s will have been 6 months since my last visit. I wonder if I can pare down my visits from every 6 weeks to every 12, and save myself some money?
aileen g said…
No modesty about my arty skilla at all. One of my twin grandsons when they were 6 and spending the day with me(they're 14 tomorrow - gulp!) called my drawing "rubbish". The other, being a little less direct, said "No, no, it's not rubbish - it's a good effort Nannie". Is that what they call damning by faint praise? As for writing - well I was always good at English at school both Language and Literature and I have always loved reading, poetry, Shakespeare. I "play" a lot with words and write little bits and pieces for friend's birthdays etc. but when I did an actual writing course I found that although I wasn't too bad at short stories I couldn't expand anything without it turning into a rehash of a book I had read. I was good at writing work reports though, and essays when I did my OU courses - it's the creative bit that's more difficult. Which is why I am in awe of your writing and your ability to not only come up with an original idea but to persevere and make it into a really credible, engrossing story. I sort of feel that I know all the characters.
As for the different cost for men v women - it goes across the board. I have bought "men's" roll on deodorant for years as it is cheaper (you can get non-scented) as well as T-shirts and thermal vests (they're longer too so no draughts round the kidney area). Right, off to do battle with the glue again!

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