Posted by Tania Kindersley.
My sister is home from the south. The sun is shining. We sit on a bench and look at my delphiniums and speak of our father and our childhood. There is the absolute comfort of going through the thing together. I don’t take that for granted, for a single moment.
I do 1414 words for my writing workshop tomorrow. I have all my notes from the last three years; I could just as easily use those. For some reason, I am starting from scratch. I have no idea why. It feels like an imperative and I am following it, blindly. My fingers tap tap tap over the keyboard; Amy Macdonald is singing a brilliant song about this pretty face don’t work no more; the Pigeon is slumbering at my side. I smile at paradox: I am going to go into a room tomorrow and tell my students to trust themselves, flaws and all, and all the while I am lashing myself to produce the best ever workshop they ever got. Theory and practice, I think; and all the gaps in between.
Here is what the world looks like today:
Last night I had a dream that someone moved the burn. The Victorians did actually do it, some time in the 1870s. This is about three quarters of a mile from its natural course. In my dream, I shouted: but where will the mama duck swim? It was so vivid that I had to run down this morning to check it was still there. It was:
This is my favourite photograph I have taken for a while. Sun on salvia, what could be more simple than that? I don’t know why I love it so much, but I do:
Pigeon, most gracious in black and white today:
And the dear old blue hill:
Is it your writing workshop again already? That means it's a year since I started reading your blog!
ReplyDeleteThank you, Tania. Your blog has been the most enjoyable and valuable new habit that I've picked up in this last year!
Lovely photos - hope the writing workshop goes well.
ReplyDeleteGad, I've been away 3 days and honestly feel I should have brought a note explaining why. That "should" orginated inside my noggin and has nothing to do with the greeting I always get here.
ReplyDeletePacking to move house always upsets schedules, for you weed out as you go and get lost in things you'd forgotten. You've written about it ever so much more enticingly than I, but that's my excuse.
Your patch looks lovely. I can only imagine how much more comfortable it must be than the sauna my patch becomes every summer.
Today feels like a good, good day, though. Oh, by the way, I resisted the temptation to use caps at least twice in this comment. I'm improving, I think. Be happy, Tania.
It may be interesting -- when you have the time (this is a "could" NOT a "should" I feel necessary to add from one [failed] perfectionist to one still flying high and higher) -- compare this year's notes to last and so on to see the differences, growth, insights...
ReplyDelete(Hmmmm, I don't mean to add yet another "project", that's for sure!)
Have a wonderful, wonder full workshop!
The pen IS mightier than the sword!
XX
What is it about black and white photographs? Much more evocative ...
ReplyDeleteJim
Looking forward to the workshop tomorrow! :) The sun today was glorious, I agree.
ReplyDeleteDear Tania, thank you so much for your kind words, I really appreciate it.
ReplyDeleteYour pictures are beautiful, what a glorious day.
Apologies for being a stranger, I'm so behind on blog reading I fear I might never catch up. I'm off to the country for the funeral so may have some time. I'd like to read your posts properly.
I wish I was on your writing workshop. Love, Christina xx
The burn is absolutely beautiful. I would have raced down to check it was still there too! Do you ever sail paper boats down it with little children?
ReplyDeleteBeautiful photos, as always. I love checking in to see if you have posted anything new to read or to look at. The Pigeon looks content.
ReplyDeleteI hope your workshop goes well!
There's something about your stone bridge.
ReplyDeleteIf I could magic myself a moment, it would be walking along the river bank towards that bridge on a glorious, sunny day.
Best wishes for your revised workshop. I'm sure it will be brilliant.
I have been reading BIHH, but largely silent. I have felt, for some time now, that in some bizarre way, your blog is a portent of what's to come. We are equi-distant from the death of a parent.
Thinking of you...Michelle x
There have been no words.
Don't know how I managed the glitch at the end...
ReplyDeleteThat will teach me for clicking without proofing!