Big Things and Little Things

Some days I see no one. I talk to people on the phone, and sometimes via video calls but sometimes I find these calls unnerving. I can't exactly explain why, but I think it's because, as the days and weeks go by, I am becoming more and more introverted.

This is both a good and a bad thing. It makes lockdown more bearable, but it also means I am withdrawing from everything that is good for me on a social level. But then, so are many others, and if anything makes lockdown a little easier, that's no bad thing.

But I digress. The first thing to say is that I have finished the first edit of my novel. This has been a huge amount of work and I have loved it. It gives me focus, a reason to get up in the morning. It is an escape and keeps me sane. So for that I am so grateful. And, after this weekend is over, I shall start on Edit Two where I shall look more at the actual writing rather than the structure of the novel which was what I have been addressing. It's a times like this that I am so thankful to be a writer. In the absence of a partner by my side, or physical friends, it is wonderful to have them in my head.

A common question floating around at the moment is, What will you do once lockdown measures are more relaxed? As in, what have you learned? Well, I've always been busy, with work and socially. Obviously the busy-ness is much less these days but I have a structure to my day which I think helps a lot. And while I have no social life, other than on the phone or Zoom, it made me realise that I want to do more with my life and at the same time less.

Yesterday I helped out a friend who lives upstairs and as a thank you she bought me a copy of a gardening magazine, which contained a booklet offering free access to lots of gardens (not much good at the moment, but hopefully one day in the not too distant future) and SIX PACKETS OF SEEDS. I can't describe how delighted I was - and still am.

SO I started sowing some seeds, leaving the rest for another day. I had just finished typing the last words of my edit and wanted to save more of this planting treat for later. I've had a look at the magazine and also the brochure, seeing what gardens I might like to visit. One day. To be honest I've never been a great one for gardens - I prefer striding out to inspecting flowers, but I do love the colour and brightness that they bring to a day, and I get beyond excited when I see shoots coming up.

Which just goes to show that it really is the little things that matter. But then, when you think of it, growing things is pretty big stuff anyway. From a flash of an idea comes a novel. From a rough piece of timber comes a boat. From a seed comes a flower, a plant or a tree.

So here's to the little things in life. May they become strong and grow tall.

Book Swaps and other escapes

So, where do you go when you want to escape? I don't necessarily mean literally, but in your head?

I've always been an avid reader since the age of four. My parents both read a lot so it was as natural to me as breathing. I've always, also, read too fast. I'd love to be one of those people who savour books, but I can't. If I'm enjoying it, I have to tear through the next page, and the one after that.... and if I'm not enjoying it, I'm afraid I skip bits.

But my appalling reading habits haven't stopped a lifelong love of books. When the libraries announced they were closing for lockdown, I took out ten books, knowing that wouldn't last me long. But to my surprise, I find I've still got a high To Be Read List, healthily enabled by various friends.

Anne texted a few weeks ago to say she'd got Tom's Midnight Garden, a childhood favourite of both of ours and would I like it? YES! I'd told her I was re-reading several childhood books for comfort reading - Susanna of the Mounties being one. Which was just as good as I remember, and beautifully old fashioned, being written in the 1920s. So Anne dropped it round, while walking her dog round the block.

Last week she texted to say she'd got two more for me, so this time I took Moll round there. It's so lovely to actually talk to someone, face to face, albeit from two metres. Cheers my day up no end. This time she lent me Sweet Caress by William Boyd, which I'd read some time ago - the true story of Amory Cade, one of the first women war photographers. It's so well written and useful research for my novel, which features a young photographer. I couldn't put this book down, and as I'm going through a phase of walking at 3/4am for a few hours, it's lovely having something good to read to while away the wee hours.

I'm half way through Tom's Midnight Garden, which I find good for reading at night. it's not overly exciting and beautifully written, full of imagery and time travelling magic. And inscribed by the seven year old Anne, which makes it all the more special.

Corinne lent me several French text books as well as The Making of Us by Lisa Jewell, a fabulous writer whose books I will always read. And Fiona dropped round Girl, Woman, Other by Bernadine Evaristo - another amazing writer.

So, along with another pile of books for my book group, I'm OK for a few weeks. This might not be a big deal for some people but for me not having enough books is like telling a smoker she's run out of fags (I was one, I know how terrifying this is).

So thank you, all my other book loving friends, for enabling my escapism during lockdown. It is much appreciated.

Where's your blog? and Haircuts...

Yesterday I had two chat with real friends. You know - actually seeing them face to face - from a safe distance of at least two metres, of course.

Nowadays, and particularly when you live on your own, such instances are to be treasured. And this blog is due to a sharp reminder from Izz. "Are you OK?" she said, as we walked our dogs along North Parade - at a safe distance. "I haven't seen your blog for ages, and I thought, of my God, what's happened?"

I reassured her that I was OK, but I wasn't really sure what to say. Life ticks on, the days are curiously full - though I have in part my novel to thank for that. I never thought that anorexia would be a welcome release....! I collect the odd prescription, explore new solitary walks, learn French, do my counselling course, talk to friends on the phone, paint and cook.

I am not one of these people who can sit and watch television for long. Thirty minutes is about my limit. I wish I could just get stuck into a good box set, but I do find it very difficult to sit still and concentrate - unless it's my own book of course. So I keep busy.

I am learning new skills. At least, that's going a bit far. I have cut my hair and Moll's, though I have had marginally more success with Moll's than my own. Moll has been terrified of groomers all her life, and she got so stressed that the last groomer (a very mature lady who's been doing it for 30 years), said she didn't think she should do it any more as she was frightened of hurting her. This was about six months ago - maybe longer, so you can imagine how long her coat has been getting.

For Easter she was given some dog treats from Lidls and god knows what are in these but she ADORES them. I mean, she's one of the greediest dogs I've met but these are the heroin of dog treats, if you'll excuse the mixed metaphor. So I thought I'd have a go at cutting her hair. I balanced a bit of one on my knee and snipped away carefully while she shook with anticipated delight at the prospect of this injection of delight. So focused was she that she didn't notice hair going missing.

I repeated this over about a week - which meant that she looked really weird when half of her was cut and the other half not - but we're just about there now. Apart from her bum, and who wants that interfered with? And she looks so much better and lighter in this warmth. Her spots show through and she is, I think, happier. And I'm £30 better off - and it means I can carry on doing it. So that's one bonus out of this strange time.

Like all - or most of us - I miss my friends. I am lucky in HAVING so many friends. I miss daily companionship. I miss cuddles. I miss walks and a coffee with my mates most of all. I try not to cry when others say that they are really rather enjoying this time. I try not to be jealous. I have my Moll. And for the moment, that's just how it is. I am so much luckier than so many. And I try never to forget that.

Be careful what you say, and Comfort Reading

This was taken on a local walk recently - while the world is in uproar, at least nature is putting on the most wonderful display, reassuring us that life does go on, in some fashion, and while it's frustrating (to put it mildly) not being able to go out and explore, to say nothing of writing the book that I'm contracted to write, at least it's cheering to see those blue skies and, in my case, paint my very small back yard.

Several weeks ago I read a piece written by an Italian journalist about what she'd learned from living in lockdown. One of the things I remember her writing was that you will find that some friends aren't who you thought, while the opposite can be true. I had an example of this last week when talking to several friends I've known well for many years, some of whom are married and have family living with them and were saying how lovely it was to all be together, have barbecues, great for the kids to be getting on so well etc etc.

Each word, in that last conversation, felt like a punch in the guts. I pointed out, eventually, that it wasn't so much fun when you're living on your own and don't have a partner, or children. (And for the many, many people who ARE banged up with family and/or a partner they really don't want to be with. For those who have lost their business, who aren't able to pay the rent, bills, and all the other terrible things that people are having to go through.)

My point was entirely lost, and so I ended the conversation feeling bruised, lonely and miserable. And while I am really happy that several of my friends are enjoying this situation - I think that's great - it doesn't make me feel any less lonely and isolated to hear about it. So please, when talking to friends who are less fortunate than you, please be careful. We are all anxious, over sensitive and downright wobbly right now.

To counteract that, providing inspiration on Easter Sunday, The Reunion on BBC Radio Four, featured John McCarthy, Terry Waite, Brian Keenan and Jill Morrell. For those that don't know, the three men were held hostage in Beirut for many years before being released, and I was working at WTN (where John worked) shortly after he was taken hostage, so I knew Jill Morrell and the awful uncertainties she lived through. I would advise anyone to listen to this brilliant piece of radio - it was full of gentle humour, incredible bravery, and showed the deep love and respect they all had for each other. When we're chafing at the bit about lockdown, think about being locked in a cell for four years with no one to talk to, no radio, no books - nothing. As Brian Keenan said, "We belong to an elite club, and Jill is an honorary member" which I thought was such a beautiful thing to say.

And finally, to also counteract these wobbly times, what are you reading? I have been dipping into old childhood favourites of my mother's. Susanna of the Mounties by Muriel Denison - what a joy! Anne of Green Gables by LM Montgomery. I think A Traveller in Time will be next - any other suggestions?

Hope you're keeping well and safe everyone. Take care, please.

The New Normal

So. We are all trying to adjust to a new way of life since partial lockdown was announced last Monday.

I really miss our morning walk, but figure that I'd rather have something to look forward to later on in the day, so we have our walk in the afternoon and Moll has found this equally confusing - dogs like habits but she is adjusting, bless her.

I have started preparing the walls of my back yard ready for painting - which badly needs doing - and it will be a lot brighter as a result even if I can only go up to as far as I can reach. It's also been good for me as when my friends upstairs are also outside painting, we can have good chats at a safe distance - they're up a flight of steps on the next level. So I've had a bit of company on those days which is good.

Otherwise, thank god I have the novel to work on, although some days that's hard. In fact, everything is hard but it is for all of us. As has been said before, this is a great leveller.

One good thing to have come out of it is that although I couldn't get to see my Mum - the lockdown came in force just as I was about to go up, but she'd already said No I'd rather you didn't come - I am ringing her every other day which seems to really cheer her up. I sent her flowers last week instead of for Mother's Day which was a much nicer surprise (she did get a card on The Day) and she rang last night, absolutely delighted. I suppose since we're all isolated now, for some reason this has broken down barriers between us.

Since Pip died, and being involved with someone who was away a lot, I was very aware of not having a partner around all the time, compared to my brothers who have both been married for a long time. (And of not having children but we won't delve into that Pandora's Box.) Now all that is irrelevant. You could say that while I don't have company as I would if I had a partner living here, at least I have lots of friends to talk to when I want to. So while I am alone it is a very different sort of alone-ness to missing being with someone, if that makes sense.

The divorce rate in China has rocketed over the past few months - no surprises there - and I know of at least one good friend who would rather not be in lockdown with the person she's with. So at least I don't have that problem.

And yes, I wish sincerely that I did have someone to go through this with, but life isn't like that at the moment so we have to make the best of what we have. I can look out of the window at fabulous views. Spring is really on its way. I can dream of the walks I will do when we are safe to go out freely again. I can walk to the castle or the seafront. And I am learning to like myself more. As a wonderful veteran said on the radio this morning, "If you can't get on with yourself, who else can?"

I know the coming weeks and months will be very testing. We will all be going stir crazy at times, frightened and angry and frustrated, lonely and miserable. But maybe some of us will learn more about ourselves, which could be interesting.

I'm wondering what lessons we will learn from this time? Or will we just go back to how we were before? It will be interesting to see, long term.

Brave New World

It seems incredible to think how quickly everything has changed. A few weeks ago I was out in Spain having the most amazing writing retreat. Now - well, I worry for the lovely people who run the Finca. They must be so concerned.

Every time I turn on the radio, TV or look on social media, there is almost nothing but news of CV19 which I find makes me very anxious. I’ve got that horrible swirling in my stomach and I find it difficult to eat. I'm exhausted by it all and very fearful, like most of us, particularly those of us who live on our own.

We all have our different ways of coping. I’m not in denial, but I listen to the news headlines to see what might affect me, and those of my nearest and dearest, and then I turn it off. To listen or watch endless statistics make me so fearful and that isn’t good for me or anyone else. I fully respect others react differently, but I don’t think it’s healthy just to focus on this virus for 24 hours a day.

We have lives that we have to live and for the moment that is the challenge - to figure out how to cope with self isolation and panic buying. How we can support each other, and keep fit at the same time.

In amongst the tales of bare supermarket shelves and widespread panic, rising statistics and the economy flatlining, are wonderful stories of how people are helping each other. People playing ping pong out of balcony windows in Italy, singing out into the darkness. Pubs and cafes offering takeaways.

Pip’s old local, the Seven Stars in Falmouth, is offering to deliver beer and prescriptions to those who are self isolating. My vet will post medication and say if you’d rather wait in your car until your appointment is ready, they will ring you. Endless shops in Falmouth are offering deliveries (not then supermarkets). Becky Wass has been delivering postcards around the town so that people who are on their own can give their details and post it through a neighbour's door if they need help or just contact.

I'm getting together a group of friends so we can keep in touch, share shopping, dog walking, visit those we can, and enjoy walks or other ways of keeping fit.

Being a writer I'm fortunate in that I'm used to working in isolation. I will really miss going out of the house to meet friends for drinks or coffee, though we can still walk and need to for our dogs. It all feels very surreal, and we have to get used for that for a while.

The most important thing, and this is very closely with the Connecting Lives organisation I am involved with - do look up their website - is helping those who are depressed and isolated. That may be you or me, our neighbours or anyone.

We all need to remember, or think of how there are so many little ways in which we can help each other keep strong, keep sane and keep safe.

Writing retreat

Well, it was one of the most stunning locations I've ever seen. That's what hit me at first. Having lived most of my life near the sea, I'm not used to those vast open expanses of mountain and they awed me, they spoke to me, they humbled me and I couldn't take my eyes off them.

The finca we stayed in was superb - a 200 year old place that had been lovingly restored and supplied comfort, relaxation with a lot of careful thought and consideration. The food was great - buffets of fresh fruit, cheese and ham etc for breakfast, gorgeous platefuls of fresh salad and wonderful cold concoctions for lunch, and for dinner - well, who knew?

And that's all before we got to the writing which was a tight timetable, but gave us plenty of workshops and one-to-one sessions, as well as time to read out and share our work with the other writers in the early evenings. Plus time to work on our own novels. Our tutor was Rosanne Ley, not only bestselling author of many novels, but a bloody good teacher!

I hit a very low spot half way through where I couldn't see where to go with my plot - well, I knew had to simplify it but nothing was making sense - and after a few sleepless nights, I cracked it. Plus we had an amazing workshop where one of my main characters suddenly leapt into life - boy that was brilliant, if harrowing.

The people were a lovely lot, all writing different things, and we left as good friends, which is how these sort of things should be, I imagine.

So I left on a wobbly high, if there is such a thing. I wasn't sure how I'd feel when I got home but surprisingly, I feel really fired up again. The enthusiasm and self belief that I'd lost has inched up a notch and my confidence is a lot better. More to the point, I am loving writing the novel again, even though i'm aware it will need a lot more editing.

So I would say, if you get the chance - go on this retreat at the Finca El Cerillo. It will be one of the most memorable experiences of your writing life.