arraign, arrange, rain.

Today was the Joan Rosier-Jones writing workshop here in Wetville. Indeed it was very wet but as we still live in a prosperous country not yet devoid of any services for non-rich people, we got to have the workshop in the warm, dry and carpeted local primary school library.

Two years ago under the same scheme (Society of Authors writer in residence for the top of the South Island), we had a workshop with Kate de Goldi. Both of them were very good, though I must confess that I fell in love with Kate de Goldi (total vivacious enthusiasm with unpretentious charm and vivid imagery games) and Joan's workshop was more aimed at getting your manuscript or short story to win competitions. A colder approach but I think the variety is a good thing. Out of the first workshop arose our local writers' group, which has been a pretty good thing. It's even made me write more than shopping lists and blog posts (though not a lot more of late). Out of this one, definitely some new members for our writers' group, maybe also a group based in Buller, and who knows whether a germ for something else as well?

I have been thinking about my wedding anniversary project. This year Favourite Handyman and I celebrate our tenth wedding anniversary. Soon after we got to the UK (which was in turn soon after we got married), we used the money some of my relatives had given us to buy a goose down duvet, duvet covers and matching sheets and pillowcases. They are all in good condition still. I did think that a bed covering might be a nice thing for the celebration though. I've considered a quilt (very very briefly, that is a lot of straight sewing, plus my machine is now broken), a knitted blanket (big big big project) and a crochet blanket. The crochet one seemed the most accessible but I hadn't got beyond thinking about it. Then last night I was looking at the open drawers of fabric, the piles of projects on the dresser, the wool, the knitting, you get the idea... When I spied the lovely Welsh herringbone tweed skirt length which my sister bought for me in Wales itself. This fabric length has travelled to home after home after home with me as I love the red fabric and I know I will do it justice one day.

I laid it out on the bed and thought, and then finding it productive, I thought some more. I think I will find some more of the fabric (contrast colour though - there is some oatmeal on trademe) and join them together with woollen embroidery thread and make a cover for our bed.

Red of course. The colour of revolution, of love, of dancing, of fire, of the left. The colour which sings to me and the colour I got married in.

In less than 111 hours, my parents will arrive. They are going to come to the primary school shared lunch with Brighid and I and then we will all go down to the domain and watch the whole school fly the kites they have been making and then in the early evening they will look after Brighid and Fionn while Favourite Handyman and I go to a work function. Then in the morning we will all go somewhere wet and watch Fionn play rugby league.

This is a lot of time for my Mum to notice our home. 111 hours to get the house clean is not much, specially when I need to sleep and go to work in a significant chunk of those 111 hours. I have warned the children that I will be throwing many things out this week and they will never come back. I kind of hope they don't put everything away then I will be able to do what I want to do - get rid of lots of junk.

Comments

Christopher said…
did send you email to get your address to send that Bill Pearson bio to you...

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