I am not a writer

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What do you enjoy most about writing?

I write this blog, and I’ve written college work recently. I tried writing a children’s book for my final major project and took it to a small publishers a few weeks ago but haven’t heard back from them yet. The story is a little adventure, but described in limerick form (I do a regular limerick challenge on WordPress that gave me the idea.)

Apart from that I can describe myself as anything other than a bit of a blogger. And I don’t write anything of any length.

So what do I get? I like the creativity it allows me, this is a bit like a diary and people have kindly read what I write. I guess I’m quite middle of the road, but a bit eccentric? What I write is often what I’m hearing in my head as I write. Is that normal? Anyway it’s almost another week. Take care.

American states?

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I’m interested in the American states. A page on Facebook asks the contributors to add where their photo was taken, when, and a general description.

One country, America, above all, will say a town or city, then a couple of letters. Like Houston, Tx. But where is Tx? I guess it’s Texas, but others are more obscure? It’s weird, but sort of understandable I think? Obviously the residents of the states must know where they come from, and other states will learn the abbreviations. But I don’t think they realise that outsiders haven’t got a clue. For example is Wyoming Wy, or Wm or Wg?

Is Iowa Iw, Io or Ia? The question of the initials gives me an idea of where places are? North, South, East, West, Central states? I’m interested enough to ask.

The Art and Craft

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What do you love about where you live?

My mural based on a ceramic design called Umbrella by Clarice Cliffe.

Stoke-on-Trent is a city built on Art and crafts. From Wedgwood and Brindley and the industrial revolution.

Ceramics were the main manufactured goods in the city. So much so that it became known as ‘the Potteries’. Different pottery owners experimenting with different materials, trying to make pots that could stand up to the quality of Chinese wares.

Manufacturers had water, clay and coal from the local area. Pots were transported out of the city on the newly built canals that linked it to the rest of England and then on to the world.

Designs were transfer printed onto plates and cups, opening up cheaper wares to the general public. But other work was hand painted and lined with gold and other precious metals.

What was needed to make all the pottery? Workers, making, turning, transfer printing, painting. Numerous jobs including the famous Saggar Makers bottom knocker. (You can Google this). The work couldn’t be completed without skilled labour that could translate designs into reality. Some female paintresses were allowed to sign their names to their work. Like Susie Cooper and Clarice Cliffe.

So much skill in one city. Burslem school of art taught many of the artists that were to work in the ceramic trades. One famous artist, Arthur Berry, became a fine artist and writer and play writer. He was one of my tutors at college. That’s why I love this place.

Oh to be out and about x

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Let me step out with confidence, stay upright, measure my steps. Just hoping I can do this again soon. It doesn’t matter where I go as long as its somewhere out of these four walls. I refuse to become housebound. I’m too young for this!

Talking to the nurse this afternoon, I explained how I’d originally hurt my leg, the car door had been caught by the wind and had swung into my leg. She said it happens more often than you think.

Places I want to visit? The seaside, relatives, local visitor centres, anything interesting.

Car door and leg

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Thanks to the NHS I’m getting treatment for my injured leg.

Well after days of a weeping wound in my leg I’ve had it dressed and bandaged by a nurse. Very uncomfortable but I’ve got to keep both legs elevated as much as possible to reduce the swelling. I will have to persist in looking after myself. Wish me luck. I won’t have much excitement over the next few days I guess.

Curled at my feet

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Puss cat curled up at my feet last night. I wanted to put my feet up on a footstool, but he wouldn’t move! I think he’s trying to take care of me. He sits next to me on my chair arm sometimes. His brother on the other arm reaching a paw out to me every so often. It’s so sweet.

Then the queen arrives, she jumps up and nuzzles me, saying hello. The boys ignore her but she is nervous of their size, I think she’s a bit bullied by them, but generally they all get on well together and with my hubby….

Humour

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What positive emotion do you feel most often?

Laugh and the world laughs with you, cry and you cry alone? Is that the old saying?

I come from a humourous town. Where I lived people took pleasure in telling long and I silly stories. They liked word play and puns. We would howl with laughter over some of the daft jokes people told.

Now, laughter is a little less frequent but still enjoyable. That’s partly because where I live now has a different sense of humour, harder, more direct. But I will not relinquish my old style. I might come over as sarcastic, but it can be very funny. (Just too tired to think of a joke now!)

Podding peas

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Have you ever podded or shelled peas?

When I was little we used to sit in the back yard and shell the peas dad had grown.

The garden was on the other side of a path that ran behind the houses. The yards were covered in slate blue coloured bricks. I would sit with my mom and siblings, she would hand out peas in the pod. I remember you pressed along one side of the peapod, the seam of it split and a row of beautiful peas sat along the other edge, then you hooked them out with your thumb. Sweet green peas falling into the bowl. Many peas didn’t go into the bowl, but into my mouth instead. It was a pleasure to eat them. They never tasted sweeter and fresher.

Other things that went on in the yard? I remember it snowing in February. Mom collected fresh snow off the yard wall. She used the water to make her pancake mix for Shrove Tuesday. I think she thought they tasted better than using “corporation pop” ( tap water). Probably because of chorine in the tap water?

Memories, they spring to mind without volition.