Monday August 28, 2006
Much improved today. I went over to the house to pick up mail, and to upload the journal, then home via Sainsbury’s to team up with Graham for lunch.
When I woke from my nap, and shortly after Graham went back to work, I tackled the great heap of laundry, separating it and bagging it up. I can’t claim that I actually saw it but I think my suspicions were right and my motivation had been hiding away under the pile. Certainly, when I picked up two of the bags and walked up to the laundromat, I was striding out like a good ‘un, and kept happy and cheerful right the way through to the last.
Sure, by the time I’d finished and walked back to the caravan, avoiding drunken grockles, I wasn’t stepping out quite so energetically, but it was down to being physically tired rather than loss of motivation.
So, tomorrow, as it so often has, came to my rescue, just as I was confident it would.
It looks as if my online writing group is edging towards a Winter of Writing. So far we have Halloween Horrors in September/October, NaNoWriMo in November, and 6 in 6 (that’s six stories in six weeks) in December/January. They are all optional. I’m planning to do Halloween Horrors and 6 in 6, but have less than no desire to write a novel. I’m thinking of making a November project of my own—A Poem a Day—to keep my pot boiling. I’m hoping that someone will come up with projects for February/March, and that will see the winter out. Along with the journal, then, which will document my exploration of life in the new house and in Bridgwater, I shall have all the writing I could possibly desire.
Why do I regard the prospect with so much relish? Easy. The three or four months we’ve lived here in the caravan have been about as barren a time on the creative front as I’ve experienced for years. Now that the end is in sight I find myself at once ennervated and fizzing with words. I want to get my life into balance once more and I can’t think of any better way to get going than a series of writing projects.
I’ve no idea how it will turn out of course. And you know what, I don’t care too much. Just so long as I get away from this life of TV-goggling and living on pre-cooked chilled meals. You can write a fun piece on cooking a corned-beef hash but if there’s anything amusing about shoving a pack of chilled food into the microwave and waiting for the ping it has escaped me completely. Even if it does turn out to be a plop-ping because you’ve forgotten to pierce the film. As for junk TV I’ve come awful close on several occasions recently to the point of grabbing the TV and chucking it down the cliff.
I can feel a ‘Hey ho’ coming on. Trouble is, I’m not too certain what would, right at this moment, follow it. And a ‘Hey ho’ without a punchline is no ‘Hey ho’ at all.