Friday, 30 January 2015

These January Days


succulents defying this summer's lack of water


Aggie basking on our bare lawn. She lies between stone steps that lead to the clothes-line. I think they look a bit like rocks or islands with the tide out. 




Summer's sun and wind have sapped our lawn of green.
A steam train doing a novelty run the other day, caused over twenty grass fires.


It has been for us a month of sprucing up the garden; pruning back over-grown areas and untidy corners.
Also, we've been tidying and clearing, ready for a build. We are converting the end of our very long garage into a self-contained flat. After a frustrating wait of almost a year for the plans to be completed, at last we are underway.


From March on we are expecting two lots of family from overseas, along with offspring. For quite some time, our skinny, long house is going to have to take on the properties of a fat teapot. Cheerfully so.


I was figuring out the other day that this doorknob from my childhood home (the house itself long-gone) must be about 100 years old. As a child, my hand reached out for it many times. Attached to the inside of an outside door, it allowed me entrance into the wider outside world. It is still outside. Where it belongs.

After taking a month off, it is time to start writing again.
Poetry seems easier to achieve than prose at this stage. The poems have been arriving relatively effortlessly (although the wastepaper basket full of paper-balls from all the discarded drafts I've done for each poem, makes a lie of that statement).




Meanwhile, my novel's plot and characters have been left hanging. Poor things. Little do they know that when I do eventually get back to them, I'm going to mercilessly shake the plot all about in order to see who falls out.


For my last two books, I used a laptop to write the poems, cutting out any need to transcribe.
However, the process of writing by hand has again become my preferred method. This has been helped by a recent purchase. A purple compendium. Note: not to be confused with, or for the purposes of, 'purple prose'.


Writing outside is one of life's pleasures. And it's free.



These January days of no sleeves and bare legs. Tanned, bare feet. Walking on cool, wet sand.


8 comments:

kj said...

Kay, it is so funny to read of your january days because here in New England January is frozen.

Your photos are beautiful. That doorknob is a metaphor for so much--how great that you have it. So your characters must await your ruthless return: ha--they may be plotting themselves :-)

I'm glad to hear things are/have settled down for you. Love remains

Love
Your pal
kj

Kay Cooke said...

KJ I truly hope my characters do some plotting of their own, they need to earn their keep!
Have been seeing photos of the snow over your way. We're sure to get our turn come July.
xx

Avus said...

I look out of my (UK) window, Kay, and see ice and snow - which is very much January to me. Like KJ, your comments about bare, tanned legs and parched grass don't fit with our season of the year!

Kay Cooke said...

Avus- It's an upside down world sometimes! But I like to hear about snow in January from my overseas friends. A reminder of what I'm missing while enjoying the opposite if that's not too Irish. (I do have Irish blood so it might be!)

Dona Bogart said...

What a nice walk that was. Beautiful! I just showed my wonderful succulents to a neighbor and said how remarkable and resilient they are. They are he only plants left alive, besides some scraggly looking mint. They lived through two freezes and one isn't even rooted. Thank you for sharing. The photography and your words paint a lovely picture.

Kay Cooke said...

Doña just found this comment in May! I cannot believe it is May already!! and we are heading into winter. xx

Kay Cooke said...

Doña just found this comment in May! I cannot believe it is May already!! and we are heading into winter. xx

Kay Cooke said...

Doña just found this comment in May! I cannot believe it is May already!! and we are heading into winter. xx

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