Not writing

19/06/2008 by Aileen.

I’ve been really reluctant to write lately. Don’t know why.

Had a good day last Friday when I met my creative writing colleagues at Burton Agnes. It was raining so we spent a long time over coffee when we met at 11am, then dispersed to look round the house. It’s a lovely size to look around. Quite often I feel weak and sick looking round castles etc. and need to sit down or go out into the fresh air. This place was fascinating and had some wonderful furniture, artefacts and paintings. We met for lunch at 1pm and after that the sun came out, so I spent ages snapping the gardens and going for a walk in the woods. A couple of the photos are on my website.

Sunday was sad, as Éamonn announced that he was leaving the parish for another one. The priest from the next parish is taking our one under his mantle. Will have to write about this in my secret blog!

On Tuesday evening I went to the talk on the sacraments by Fr Michael. Really good. I am going to buy a book/books by Huebsch when I have googled him and seen what he has written. (Fr Michael gave us a handout which was simple and profound at the same time - and in modern language.)

Birding on Wednesday was quite good. Saw lots of waders. I prefer little woodland birds, but the avocets are lovely. We saw a swan carrying cygnets on her back. Norma came back for lunch and brought some delcious homemade chocolate biscuits. I had ONE after Slimming World and John’s nearly scoffed the lot.I lost half a pound, which was disappointing as I put on the same amount last week. My fault for eating every scrap of the pork crackling on Sunday (plus fish and chips one day and some alcohol a couple of nights.)

As all the hard copy photos are now sorted I have been sorting and tagging (and deleting) my digital collection. Must add some to my web (and label the family according to Norma.)

Well, that’s a very uninspiring post, maybe they all are. But it’s a good record of my life for future years. I have written (much more searching) journals, but cannot read my writing. Let’s hope the kids can’t when I’m dead and gone.

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