Issue 59 - A fish's whistle
NOVEMBER 2023
Got one of those digital thermostats installed this week, with a silly noun for a name. Been sleeping terribly, waking up in hot nightmares. Boyfriend tells me I'd wake up to 'a mouse's fart' or a 'fish's whistle', both of which are sadly true. Realised though that the thermostat has been turning itself on in the middle of the night several times as it's in a 'learning phase.' For god's sake. Shouldn't it come ready for the job in hand?
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Spent a day with a friend's dad, teaching us brush techniques used for sign-writing. It was so brilliant, like my whole attention could somehow be reduced to one thick, glossy stroke along the pleasing curl of the letter 'e'.
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Somebody I know from a writing course has set up a spreadsheet that we all record our daily words on. It's startling in its effectiveness. The woman who set it up is a brilliant writer, and annoyingly it would seem, a bloody quick one.
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Reading an achingly good memoir in which the protagonist has a mentor in David Nash, the famous sculptor. Realised that's what my friend Jim has been to me really. Told him.
He has been bringing me books, asking me questions, encouraging me to write more, never unhelpfully criticising but somehow making it clear when it's not right. The difference it makes, to have someone rooting for you, even in the background, at a distance. A consistent reminder of possibility, a voice that assures you you are capable of more. That there are projects quite literally with your name on them, waiting. That it's worth taking a risk, betting on your own words, your experiences. All a writer can ask for really.
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Watched David Sedaris' masterclass, and was surprised by how much I liked him, because when my parents saw him a few years ago he called someone a whore for taking his photograph without his permission, which did seem a bit harsh. He spoke of the importance of being a generous reader when feeding back. Be specific, he said. Point to what you liked, which sentences worked, and maybe which ones didn't.
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Went in to see my grandma after mum had made her dinner. 'Oh what did you have?' I asked. She looked down at the empty enamel dish that mum has eternal versions of, the ones that slot neatly in together. 'Shepherd's pie. It was really lovely.'
Went in to see mum, who asked me: 'did grandma enjoy her lasagne?'
Good Things to click on
Stayed here and it was simply beautiful. Even more so because one of my excellent friends brought these
Jaya's fundraising dahl kits are back
The best flapjack recipe around
I took these images at a beautiful house in Snowdonia.
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