Bread in the oven and I can smell it now, the washing machine accompanying Bob Dylan singing Ballad of a Thin Man
You know something's happening
but you don't know what it is
do you Mr Jones
Soon I'll light a fire, already laid. We have a new fence and a new shed door, and have just paid our lovely new joiner friend L, who constructed them. He also plays in a band who will be playing at the community centre across the road in a few weeks' time in aid of the Flood Fund. We look forward to some dancing.
Tomorrow I'm going to a one day course called I've Got a DSLR. Help! Watch this space. Next week a two day course called Exploring Drawing.
Gotta go - wine in the oven, bread out of the frig.... or, err, something.
Friday, 29 January 2016
Thursday, 21 January 2016
Flood
The river is everywhere it is in places it has never been
it is rolling down the street like a waterfall roaring
it is filling gardens and back yards it is seeping under doors
pouring through letterboxes in at windows
filling up shop windows like fish tanks
its force is demolishing walls, cracking roads
sweeping cars away and we see suddenly that it could kill us,
this daily companion that flows through our town
sometimes gentle and sparkly sometimes brown and choppy,
but never before this river giant this watery monster
this cascade, this unstoppable force, this necessity
to go somewhere since its banks cannot contain it
since the rains have swelled and swelled it,
the moors a saturated sponge, the paths and lanes
down from the tops fast-flowing streams.
it is rolling down the street like a waterfall roaring
it is filling gardens and back yards it is seeping under doors
pouring through letterboxes in at windows
filling up shop windows like fish tanks
its force is demolishing walls, cracking roads
sweeping cars away and we see suddenly that it could kill us,
this daily companion that flows through our town
sometimes gentle and sparkly sometimes brown and choppy,
but never before this river giant this watery monster
this cascade, this unstoppable force, this necessity
to go somewhere since its banks cannot contain it
since the rains have swelled and swelled it,
the moors a saturated sponge, the paths and lanes
down from the tops fast-flowing streams.
Monday, 11 January 2016
Sunday, 3 January 2016
Happy New Year
I can't believe it's only eight days since the floods in our little town. It feels like at least two weeks. Time, always strange at this time of the year, has become unrecognisable. A most extraordinary amount of energy and determination from the local community plus volunteers from far and wide, including the army (!) have achieved more than seemed remotely possible a week ago, and our local website now boasts a proud list of twenty shops and cafes open this weekend! My friend J, owner of a most useful van, has been working tirelessly helping folks clear their ruined possessions, piles of mud and rubble, and in one case the entire stock of the toyshop. She has seen a lot of distress as well as a lot of hope and hard work. We did what we could last Tuesday, our most significant contribution to date being the cleaning up of yoga mats and meditation cushions from the little Zen house in town which was badly flooded. There has been a fair bit of wandering around trying to help, where skips were being awaited, or miscommunication led to wild goose chases. Still, we all offer what we can.
Here, our efforts have been interrupted by L feeling unwell over New Year, and having to attend the out of hours primary care clinic at the hospital on Friday evening. All is well, I am happy to report, but it was a difficult and scary time for us both, and we are now feeling exhausted. L is uncertain whether some sort of allergic reaction to some of the molds and debris in town could be behind her unaccustomed shortness of breath, but nothing is certain. Only that her peak flow, and blood oxygen readings are very healthy for her age, and blood pressure only a little up. The 111 phone service, and the doctor at the hospital were incredibly helpful, kind and efficient, and once again I am awed by the wonder of the NHS (long may it live.)
In spite of all, we managed to make eight jars of marmalade yesterday and there are enough oranges to make the same again when we have the energy! It is pouring with rain again here today, which is not popular with anyone right now, but hopefully will not persist, and the good news is that river levels have fallen significantly.
Here, our efforts have been interrupted by L feeling unwell over New Year, and having to attend the out of hours primary care clinic at the hospital on Friday evening. All is well, I am happy to report, but it was a difficult and scary time for us both, and we are now feeling exhausted. L is uncertain whether some sort of allergic reaction to some of the molds and debris in town could be behind her unaccustomed shortness of breath, but nothing is certain. Only that her peak flow, and blood oxygen readings are very healthy for her age, and blood pressure only a little up. The 111 phone service, and the doctor at the hospital were incredibly helpful, kind and efficient, and once again I am awed by the wonder of the NHS (long may it live.)
In spite of all, we managed to make eight jars of marmalade yesterday and there are enough oranges to make the same again when we have the energy! It is pouring with rain again here today, which is not popular with anyone right now, but hopefully will not persist, and the good news is that river levels have fallen significantly.
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