Walking in my village on a hot and mellow Canterbury day I sat for a moment ..and wrote. I think it came from listening to friends going through "stuff". Although it is, of course, understandable, it can become so consuming that it dominates the lives and loves of those around them.

 

 Sitting in a Graveyard

It makes one think -

Sitting in a graveyard -

of all the small and niggley

things which clog the mind

It brings you back to basics -

to reality, mortality

(or whatever you want to call it)

Anyway -

as I said -

It makes one think -

It brings to mind

Those wasted hours

Worrying and wondering -

Has the cat enough to eat?

Was that card I bought suitable for a picky friend?

Did that character on the TV soap -

Really have an affair with the judge?

Sleepless nights spent

Wishing I had helped more -

Or less

Said more -

or less

It might have changed the world

Or at least

my world (or their's) - or not!

All these thoughts do I have

Sitting in the sunshine

In the graveyard

Instead of contemplating

- How the light falls

on that rock

Or

How a bumble bee can fly

(Especially laden

with a bumper crop of pollen)

Or

How my house is tucked

Safe behind those trees

and only I know where to look -

So I will

Mabel and the Hedge

One of the reasons for starting this blog was to link it with the availability of my book about Drifter the driftwood horse. The process of putting it onto createspace and thence to kindle, was a gruelling one for me but, having seemingly successfully accomplishing it, I feel a great sense of achievement: a block smashed in order to leave free space for the next books. In fact I have one already written but will wait till I have a copy of 'Drifter' in my hand before battling with technology again! Recently I have been more involved with short stories. There is something satisfying about having a flash idea and working into a story, which can be finished within a fraction of the time it takes to write a novel. I like the immediacy of it and the humour involved with taking a funny thought and running with it, as with 'Mabel and the Hedge'. I wrote this not long ago and here follows a photo of the said hedge.

I was on top of the highest par,t endeavouring to prevent it from taking every last bit of light and goodness from my garden, when I had a thought: what if I fell between the branched and was lost forever? In a flash, a story was born.To be fair, the writing of it was easy, even flowed but the cutting and editing took a bit longer, helped by my writer friend Kaite. Her comments were invaluable and hightlighted the need for a good editor, even with a short story: or especially with a short story.
Here follows the first few paragraphs of Mabel's story.

'One day, when the sun was shining brightly and all the birds were singing, Mabel decided it was the day for an adventure —no, not to the mountains— but to the top of her huge Macrocarpa hedge. She had been waiting for this day for a long time. First of all her aches and pains had to be in remission so she could climb the big ladder, then the cutting east wind must not be blowing or her bones would be chilled, and last of all it must be a blue, blue day to make the long journey to the top more pleasant.

She knew that when she reached it she would be able to see out to the heads and imagine the coast of Chile, lying on the far side of the great Pacific Ocean. The hedge blocked her view up the harbour. It was so high that Mabel almost needed a telescope to see to the top. When she had woken this morning Mabel had consulted her horoscope. It had said,'Today is a good day to tackle something new; something you have been meaning to do for a very long time. This act will change you forever.' And it continues........ 
There is even a sequel requested by friends who were anxious that Mabel be lost forever, and her beloved cats hungry! For now the day calls and Horatio the Rabbit demands his story too!

 

Gardens Galore

 

 

In New Zealand today is Labour Day, paradoxically, a day on which not to labour! So true to this mantra, I went with my friend Brenda to look round Little River Gardens; revealing their secrets to both to the hol polloi, like us, and also to the Canterbury gardening ellite. As a transplant myself, I have never felt I fitted in to the, descendants of the First Four Ships, club. This is not nearly as prevalent as when we originally arrived in 1976 but lurks uncomfortably just beneath the surface to be revealed if one inadvertantly scratches the skin of a Merrivale lady! To return to the gardens; they were a source of inspiration and joy. It was wonderful for so many to open their gates to us and generously share thier private havens with the masses. The photo is of Ecostay, a magical place in Okuti, where nature has been joyfully played with and artfully eaggerated. Round every tree there is a surprise, a circle of trees pruned to create a sitting space or an arbour of willows containing a bench from which to while away the view. It is heartening to see what can be done using the trees themselves: nature adapted beautifully.We do not need to spend vast quantities of money to achieve harmony, in fact I would go as far as saying the opposite is very much more likely.

Cool Cabbage Cat

This all started with a photo on FB of my little cat Molly up a Cabbage tree. It is a game we play every morning whe she hangs upside down and I poke with a long leaf from the said tree. She had so many comments, especially one from Jim calling her a Cool Cabbage Cat!

Here she is! I am still learning the esoteric art of the blog, made all the more difficult
 because my 'b' is only just hanging on by it's teeth and I wonder what will happen if it gives up the ghost completely. The challenge of writing without it is eyond my imaginings! My stories would be even less likely to be looked at by those fierce publishers and agents sitting at their desks ready with a big, or in my case 'ig', red pen. So to return to the blog. I have just been through the painful process of uploading or downloading my book, Drifter, onto createspace. I'm sure the process has been made as simple as possible and I'm usually quite good at things 'Computer' but this was indeed a process riddled with pitfalls and required the patience of a proverbial saint (which I am not).
Now my challenge is to write a story about said cat. I have many stories and will try some out on here along with relevant photos.
Now it is time to stop and survey the damage wreaked by the relentless Nor'wester. Even the cats have taken refuge under the flax plants. Liz has been and collected a chair for her wondrous flower shop due to open in the Tannery ( check blog) next week. And Miss Molly the Cool Cabbage Cat is doing busy cat things in my garden (or next door's).