Back to School - with a bang

This back-to-school malarkey doesn't get any easier each year. I'm just in the last throes of it today and tomorrow: hemming trousers for the boys in extra strong stitching, so they don't pull down their hems through repeated putting in of their legs; extra sewing on the box pleats of the skirts, so that they don't end up ripping up to the waistband. Ironing on about 30 labels with names on, not so much for the benefit of the schools, but to save kids here rowing in the mornings about whose tracksuit bottoms belong to whom.

I still have a list of things to get as long as my arm. It's not that I'm a last minute lassie, it's just that it really does take the whole summer to organise things. Things like a pack of twistables x 3, or rubbers x 20, or even copies (exercise books to forn readers) x 100. And that's not a joke.

I buy pencils by the box load, pens by the bucket. And don't talk to me about pencil parers (I actually invested in an industrial strength one of those a few years ago - best €15 I ever spent). But somehow when we get to Christmas they're all gone - poof - vanished into thin air. I reckon there must be a hole in each classroom where stationary fairies live with a huge hoard of the little buggers. Maybe they re-sell them on fairy-eBay...

Ah well. The upside of all this expense is that next week I get my house back to myself between the hours of 8.30am and 2.45pm, Monday to Friday. I think that's something to look forward to: the sweet smelling sound of silence. Oh yeah.

And in between all that I've been writing poems, and getting ready for my own new term of writing classes to begin. You know what they say: ask a busy woman ...

Deep Cleanse and Escape

Well, I've been back almost a week from the wonderous getaway writer's hotel (okay you get artists there too and dancers and musicians) that is the Tyrone Guthrie Centre at Annaghmakerrig. It was brilliant, I wrote loads and met loads of new and interesting people and talked the face of myself. About writing, art, that I like.

And I feel like it was a month ago. I was whisked off to Cabra Castle, home of the romantic getaway, by mon cheri, for our fifth wedding anniversary. Imagine: five years. People in prison get parole ... only joking!

From Our wedding + Kerry

Back in 2004... ah, God be with the days. Feel free to embiggen. And laugh!

So of course once I got back, there was the state of the house to be contended with. I've just got over the brow of the washing, cleaning and scrubbing mountain today. Even the goldfish were washed.

And very soon I am off to the Kingdom, Ciarrai, for my annual dose of mountains, sea and obligatory Irish-style picnics: sandwiches complete with sand and 'hang' (ham to those not Irish).

From Kerry pictures 03

The western view from our (rented) holiday house in Ciarrai. From the sitting room window.

When I get back, there's Flatlake Literary & Arts Festival, where I'm reading in not one, but two acts, with some really top notch poets and writers! This summer gets more active by the day. Keep an eye on WRW's blog and Musings for more info, as well as Emerging Writer's

See y'all on the far side :)

Things I really ought to do

Stock up on drinks and sun-lotion and get boys' hair cut. Apparently the weather is about to get even hotter again. Temperatures of 30 degrees are expected.

Browsing: a Slice of Life

Right now I'm sitting on the sofa with half an eye on the sun sinking westward - okay I know the earth is turning instead, but still - and one ear is on cartoons, (Chowder) from the six slinking stinkers' habitat, and the other is listening to a scrunching guitar riff from upstairs - a slinker practicing Rage Against The Machine's 'Killing in the Name' - which is bizarre as I was into this first time around, ah, God bless the nineties. One child is indoors due to sunstroke, the rest are out running around with their friends absorbing Vitamin D from the unusual sun patch. I'm browsing around and I find this lovely poetry book ... and I really want to get it ... now ... but I must wait until July 15th!

The Intimacy of Radio

I did another interview on local radio recently with Harry Lee of Dundalk FM. Before you scoff at the idea of local radio, think of this: through internet technology, this community station (and many, many others) are available to a much wider audience than they are through the wavelength restrictions imposed by their license conditions.

Anyhoo, through the generous help of the wonderful qarrtsiluni, I've been able to get hosting for a recording that I made on Wednesday. To hear the interview/reading click on that link just there. I hope you enjoy the discussion of poetry, life in general and the Irish economic downturn!

Oh bugger

Some poems come easier than others. Usually they come after about three or four aborted attempts, when you've stopped thinking about what it is that you were trying to put into a poem. That doesn't make them any less hard-earned though. I seem to remember Richard Hugo talking about this in his book, The Triggering Town. That book is a collection of essays on poetry and is well worth getting. I remember buying Strunk & White at the same time... gosh, four years ago now, oh dearie me, how much poetry water has flowed past the bridge now, eh?

Well, tomorrow I'm on Dundalk FM again , Wednesday 7th January, talking about the Bursary I won and maybe reading a few poems, at 10:45 To listen via the internet, click on this link, and then click on the second 'Click Here' in the second paragraph.

I would give you the link directly but blogger is playing silly buggers. I will try and record it later on, if I can... I might pop in a poem tomorrow when I'm not feeling so critical.

Rising to Rachel's Challenge

It's been a terribly long time since I had a poem up here and as Rachel rightly points out I rarely talk that much about what I'm doing writing-wise, which probably leads a lot of people to think that I don't write much.

Au contraire! But I am horribly self-critical of my own work, so I like to try and get things into the best shape possible... which ain't easy in present mega-biz conditions: finishing off CW classes for this term; assembling Santy lists; booking me graduation at QUB for me masters; trying desperately to finish B&W photography work for artist's book of image/text to be launched on 9th December at Belfast Exposed... and there are other things I have to do too, like get a job (He's told me - no more slacking!?!)

Anyhoo, here's a poem. It's not great, but there ya are :)


removed for editing

What to Do?

Nothing as wearing as nothing concrete to focus on. Yes, there's Christmas... but all I feel for that is a world-weary 'neugh.' If I didn't have six young 'uns to satisfy, I'd quite happily head off to an island somewhere, preferably uninhabited.* Possibly it's because I'm almost 'another year closer to death.'**

Some new plans are needed... but what?

* And definitely not with Tom Hanks!
** Pink Floyd have an awful lot to answer for sometimes.

The Marvellous Bill Bailey

Times article on 11th November, on why Bill Bailey doesn't Mock the Weak... and what he's doing next year to raise the profile of dear old Alfred Russel Wallace, who will be ignored whilst Darwin is celebrated... even though Wallace reached the same conclusions as Darwin at more or less the same time!

Comedy is a funny art.

Guess Who's Coming to Town

It's been a hectic few weeks. We've got Nuala Ni Chonchuir coming to Dundalk tomorrow to work with the two writing groups that I teach CW to.

We're very much looking forward to her visit and words of encouragement and advice. It's going to be a full on day, with lots to mull over afterwards.

On other fronts, I'm knee deep in a project at QUB, an artist's book that each of us has to make, incorporating text and image. I've spent the last three Thursdays in the dark room at Belfast Exposed, making photograms, and developing B&W pictures from negatives. I'm using a poem about taking photographs with an old fold-out camera.

Our tutor managed to source a camera shop in Scotland which was selling off old camera stock. She brought me home a rather marvelous 'Soho Cadet,' made from bakelite, about mid 1930s or so. I've taken pictures with it, developed the film and am dying to see the photographs - alas no time yesterday.

Still waiting for the result from the MA... at this stage I'm pretty nervous. They should be out soon...

On Form

Just bought a copy of On Form today. It's by Angela Leighton and I am wholly absorbed by it.

How I wish I'd had this book when I was studying the 20th C Texts and Debates course! It really brings together the development of thought about how form is one of those words/concepts/vitally important things that has continued to develop and morph from Kant's time, through Pater and the 'art for art's sake' debates, through aestheticism, utilitarianism through the bankruptcy of aesthetics into the thirties, equally through modernism, postmodernism... ack - I sound like I'm ranting now and that's only Chapter One! So lucid and easy to read... why had I not this book last year when I turned to form, seriously?

More later, when I've read and digested the book and written all the poems which are crowding around me like little vampirelets begging for life force.

Ah, my muse is back! Thank the muse.

Sharing the 'isms'

Yesterday's Irish Times carried this article: a very useful and humorous guide to the various 'isms' and other trivia that we take for granted.

A quick example: Socialism: You have two cows. You give one to your neighbour. Communisim: You have two cows. The state takes both and gives you some milk.

One of my favourites is this one: Surrealism: You have two giraffes. The state requires you to take harmonica lessons.

But my total favourite is this: A French Corporation: You have two cows. You go on strike, organise a riot, and block the roads, because you want three.

Go check out Magpie's whole article.

Castle Chester

Isn't that a grand sounding name? That's where I spent Saturday night, chewing the writerly fat with a friend, and two new roomies that have moved into the Castle with her.

My friend is doing the MA at QUB that I've just finished; except in fiction, and one of her roomies is also doing the MA; except in poetry. My word, but her work is magnificent. She's a relatively young Canadian poet and I got to see a sample of her work. I have a feeling that the world will be seeing a lot more of Maureen Evans before long.

There's a really interesting walk along the beach front in Whitehead that takes you towards a light house. The lighthouse is located at the top of a crumbling cliff, and the walkway is designed in steps and bumps that go up and down and around and back. It would be a real treasure for my kids to investigate, that's for sure. Apparently people come from all around to enjoy this unusual walk that incorporates a good deal of cardio-vascular activity as well as spectacular nature, seascapes and bird watching.

Waiting

I'm not usually very good at waiting for anything. I like to have my time mapped out, so that as I head towards goal A, I'm quietly working away on goal B. Or C or all the way down to Z.

In the next few months I should be starting work on a third collection. I know that sounds like planning ahead, but I think that ignoring the present in favour of the future is a good way of tricking myself whilst I wait.

I'll be waiting for my results. While that happens I'm getting on with the CW classes, which have kicked off again in Dundalk. They're a lot more organised this time, or so I hope. I'm also hoping to get classes going in Newry as well: there's a feature in this week's Newry Reporter about the classes and a bit about me as well. I have an idea for the future involving cross-border co-operation in creative arts that just might work...

And there's a few things that I'd like to enter the current MS in - who knows?

In the meantime a few quiet weeks wouldn't go amiss. Some new writing? Oh yes. I'm brewing a lot of ideas.

Meme thing

Liz in Gran Canaria tagged me to list six unspectacular things about myself.

1. I have size 6 feet, 0r 39 if you do European sizes.
2. I have one thumb smaller than the other.
3. I used to bite my nails. I gave them up three years ago.
4. I really, really love tea. So much so that I limit it to three cups a day.
5. I have no pets (currently).
6. I'm not mad about 'spurt' as I fondly call my husbands obsession with anything that involves a team and balls of varying sizes.

Terms & conditions!
1. link the person who tagged you: Done see above.
2. mention the rules on your blog: (these are them)
3. list 6 unspectacular things about you: (see above)

4. tag 6 other bloggers by linking them: Debi Minx and Rachel