Managed to do nearly a whole scene in Hallsfoot’s Battle last night, so it looks like I’m back in the saddle, hurrah. For now anyway. Meanwhile in the office there are no polylopes sweeping over the horizon today as far as I can see, so I kept my head down and got on with the Nursery Group minutes. Which I have more time to do as Lord H gave me a lift into work early as I’m off to London tonight, so don’t want to be bothering with the car ...

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I'm feeling a bit peed off. I got in yesterday after a really nice first time meeting with writer friends from Writewords, my online writing group, and my agent had emailed to say I had an audition for a tour which I can't do because it's September to March, the worst possible time to try and take time off school.

If it was a one off I wouldn't have minded at all. But it's part of the bigger problem of not being available enough to take work. I've already lost one agent that way, would rather not lose another if I can avoid it. So, what to do?

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Feeling rather drained today and am hoping to lie low at work and not get involved with anything. Or anyone. So no change there then. In fact Lord H and I are thinking of starting up our own secret Hermits’ Society – it’s just a shame we probably can’t ask anyone to join, as it would rather defeat the object. Ah well.

In the midst of all that, I’m vaguely wondering about writing a long poem. Not something I’ve ever tackled before, or even thought of – as my usual approach is that if a poem doesn’t say what it wants to say in the first ten lines then it’s not worth reading on. It’s only a vague thought though, but we’ll see. UPDATE: I've started something, am quite enjoying it and will see how it goes ...


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For some time I've been wanting to write fiction based on the Picts, whose kingdom encompassed most of Scotland in the Dark Ages. Until now, however, I've struggled to think of a way to introduce them. They remain a relatively obscure race from a shadowy time. I think the following piece solves this problem.

What I'd love to know is does it evoke the time, place and people intended? Is it clear we're in post-Roman Britain, I suppose, is the most important question. Thanks.




“Stone,” said the old man, as he scooped up a handful of pebbles in one hand and let them trickle down into the other, “our old friend.”
He repeated the motion without dropping one, as effortlessly as if he were playing with flour. “Stone to the west holds those wretched Gaels back,” he said, letting a few pebbles fall from his hand to form a line on the ground. “Mountains.”

“And to the north,” he continued, dropping another line of stones on the ground, “more mountains – keeping the folk of Fortriu at bay.”

“But aren’t they Picts like us?” asked the boy.

The man scowled and tossed a pebble that struck the boy lightly on the forehead.

“Oww,” he protested.

“You’ll get worse from others if they hear that word from your lips. We are the Pritani, those in Fortriu too, but we are often at war with them.

“Picts are what the Romans called us. It meant painted savage… something like that. Use that word here or up north and they’ll treat you like a Roman; lop your head off and mount it on a stick.

“Stone was the Romans’ downfall as well you know,” he said after a pause. “We’d lure their legions deep into the mountains and then come tearing down the slopes at them like a rock-fall.

“They had to build two huge walls in the end to hold us back.”

The boy laughed bashfully and looked away.

“The other use stone has,” the man said, fingering the last remaining pebble in his hand, “is that it remembers us when we’re gone.” With that he flung the pebble and it struck a great sandstone slab engraved with strange symbols which stood behind the boy.

“And,” he said, as he looked down at the game board that lay on the ground between them, “today stone is a friend to me indeed.”

“You have three of my playing pieces but of yours I have formed two mountain chains and had two left over to throw. I think that means I’ve won.”

Not a great day today, I must admit. I do so hate having to go back to work after the joys of being away and am consumed by envy for those people who do jobs because they love them rather than (like me) because they need the cash. It just makes retirement seem such a wonderful option – bring it on! Indeed I spent several minutes under the duvet this morning groaning at the thought of a whole day away from home and – more horrors! – having to do the shopping. Twice, dammit. Not only that, but it was raining and grey and ghastly. Finally Lord H had to drag me out into the open air and push me in the direction of the bathroom. Could it get any worse, I wondered …


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Well, you can't say I don't spoil you!

After recommending Sally Hinchcliffe's terrific book, Out of a Clear Sky, last week (read what I said about it here) I'm delighted to be able to post this - an interview with her. Big thanks to Sally for taking the time to do it. Hope you enjoy it, folks! I did.

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You could be forgiven for thinking that Autumn's arrived. It's not just the chill and breezy grey that's settled on South East London today. A friend has just posted an SOS about her plum jam which refuses to set, and I've just washed the crumpet butter off my fingers in order to write this. My daughter's announced that she'll need new school shoes when term starts, and my son's booking places at University Open Days in October, now he has his AS level results.


I've always felt that September rivals April as the real New Year.

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Well, gosh, Love and Other Demons was certainly an experience. Not one we particularly enjoyed, alas. Although the weather was kind and our picnic was fun. To my mind, it was all rather dull with a simple recitative used throughout instead of any chance at lyricism (which I would have thought the book would encourage). I've never been so relieved to see the descent of a curtain. Though the singers were grand, I have to say, and of course it's always good to see a red-haired woman as the main character, naturally - it's just that the material they had to work with seemed poor. As Lord H commented as we left, they took the best bits of a very difficult book, so good on the lyricist and composer for that - but what they should have done to convey the power and passion of the themes was to give the South American flavour by using the rhythms and songs of that country, and to contrast this with the Catholicism sections by using religious chant as a counterpoint. Now that's an opera we'd have liked to see - but unfortunately this attempt ain't it. Perhaps some other composer could have a go?...


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ME

Way, way back, and as deep as the sea,
Way back starts the story of me.
Before the seed grew into a tree,
Rotten was the soil unfortunately.

Alcohol
Drugs
Sexual Abuse
Molestation
Neglect
Lack of Education
Rape
Abortions
Adultery

Before the seed grew into a tree,
Rotten was the soil unfortunately
Not the perfect recipe
To plant the tree of your family…..



When you laid there on the floor
Helpless, drunk,
Soiled, and wreaking like a skunk
I was four.

I was strong because I knew no other way to be
Someone had to look out for me,
Me.

When you were covered by shame
You pointed your finger, and I took the blame
For your partner,
Your lover,
Molesting me,
I cried out but nobody could hear or see.
Nobody could see what he was doing to me
I was only eight but I was strong because I knew no other way to be
Someone had to look out for me,
Me.




Through threats I never told anyone
Though I never believed him when he said
“Don’t worry it’s just a bit of fun”

I was strong because I had to be
Someone had to look out for me,
Me.

When my so called “uncles” tried to play with me
Rocking me to and fro on their knee
Pressing up against me
“Uncles little baby”
I backed away because they got a bit too friendly
I was strong because I had to be
Someone had to look out for me
Me

He looked at me and spat at me
He spat at me repeatedly
”look at you you’re nobody
My beloved brother said to me
But I stayed strong and stood up for me
Though the esteem had been knocked out of me

He said over and over again that I wasn’t his child,
Who can blame me for going so wild?
Me reacted in the only way me knew
How would you react if me were you?
When he divorced my mother he divorced me too!
I was strong because I had to be
Even though the heart and soul had broken in me.
I stayed strong.



Wow! A life form inside of me
Someone of my own
To love me and care for me
My soul mate! My clone!
But with no house and no home and no security
I was scared of what my mother would do to me
I looked at the No’s and FREEKED OUT on me
Now the only one responsible is me
For having blood on my hands
Me had terminated me
Foiled again, failed again typical me,
But I still stood strong, I stood up for me.




I ate and felt full so then tried to vomit up the pain
Again and again, and again and again
Bulimia they call it huh what a name
It should be called eating pain
It wasn’t my stomach that was full it was my head
Good thing I noticed this 5 stones lighter else I could have ended up dead!




I did, I tried my best to escape
And even though half dead
I still managed to cry out Rape! Rape!
But nobody heard me not even me,
I was lucky he didn’t kill me
The bruises faded eventually
From my face, neck and body
From where he tried to strangle me
So I guess me had failed to look out for me
Me realised that she had nobody.
Nothing in the world to call her own
Forsaken by both father and mother with no house to call home.

Those bottles of pills looked so inviting to me
With a bottle of rum to chase, I’d be free,
Free
Not having to look after me,
Just free
No pain, no hurt just me with out me
No life
No me
An escape from the physical me
I decided to cut all negativity out of my life
I started on my wrists with a butcher’s knife
I ended up in A and E
And unfortunately I had failed to get rid of me









Laying there on the ground
Drunk on the street, like a tramp
My dad laid there so helplessly
Me helped my dad to his feet and to his front door feeling proud of me
but then daddy turned around and said get away from me
are you trying to rob me?
Me I said daddy it’s me
I know you not daddy said so cold heartedly.
Again my father had rejected me
Couldn’t he see that I needed somebody
A father figure to come and take away this pain
I looked and I searched for someone to blame
I could find nobody
So I just kept all the blame with me





Heartache, heartache and heartache again
With nobody but myself to blame
Because me was looking out for me
But me had failed so miserably
The lights went out one bulb at a time
From a chandelier of thirty
I’m now left with just nine
Yearning for a father figure to take away the pain
Looking and searching for someone to blame
Me spent a quarter of my heart falling in love
And a quarter being depressed
Quarter of my heart I just gave away
And now there’s only a quarter left.





Twins!
Maybe a he and a she?
Maybe two he’s or two she’s?
But now I will never know
How could they live when one in each tube they tried to grow?
I couldn’t believe what had happened to me
I was having two eptopic pregnancy’s
The chances of that happening was scarce the doctors said to me
I doubt you’ll ever be able to have another baby


Even my children have failed me
Even before they became somebody
Now with only one severed tube look at the state of me
Typical, I’m not surprised, how typical of me!







Wow
What a high,
Wow
What a buzz,
Who’s that?
Who’s that?
Who’s that behind me?
It looks like the fuzz!
Did someone say some thing?
Did somebody call my out my name?
Paranoia set in, I was going insane
But yet me still couldn’t stop smoking crack cocaine
You see I needed it to empower me and at the same time extinguish past pain.


I DO!
Me said most definitely
I will help you stay in this country
How kind of me,
How brave of me,
At least somebody wanted to marry me
I love you I said just like you’re meant to
Now do you love me too I asked
No he said you must be mad,
move, get away from me,
Are you out of your mind he said you must be crazy!













Yearning for a father figure to take away this pain
Me felt like she was going insane.
So had to resort to her doctors again and again

What?
Antidepressants?
How does that work?
How is a tablet going to stop me from going buzerk?

What?
Mental Asylum
You’re having a laugh
How is being locked up going to delete all the past?
Are you crazy or something?
I’m not going in,
There’s no way you’re going to put me in a Looney bin!
I’ll tell you something for nothing I would rather be dead
Than to take drugs that go straight to my head
What?
talk to someone
I don’t even know you
How the hell would you understand what I have been through?
So you have read a book, but that just in theory
How the hell are you going to help me practically?
These problems of mine you don’t need to know
Just help me get through this then I’ll go
Help me get through this
I need a way out
Help me get through this me said with a shout.


She’s dieing of cancer the phone call said
Look; just to let you know that your mother is dead
That’s exactly how it was broken to me
The death of my so called beloved mummy
That’s exactly how it was broken to me
It was my loving, caring eldest brother who broke the news to me
My mother had died not talking to me
She totally refused to see me
I went to see her in hospital but she called security
And all because I

WITH YOU

Away from my troubles,
Away from this pain.
Away from the promise of “Not loving again”
Away from the dark to where I can see,
Away from whom everyone expects me to be.
Away from the noise and into the calm,
I dream of my savior I am holding his arm.
I then ask the question “who am I meant to be?”
“And what does this life have in store for me?”
What is my purpose?
What do I do?
I hear a sweet voice “To thine own self be true”
“I will always be here whenever you need”
“I will always be there to help you succeed”
“Follow your dreams and make them come true”
“All that you need is inside of you”
“There is nothing you need that you do not already know”
“I’ve given you the seed; it’s your job to sew”
“Truth leads to knowledge and please understand I’ve given you the world in the palm of your hand”
“Follow your heart and then your mind seek for the truth and then you shall find”
“When tempted by anger or jealousy step back,
For when the pendulum swings forth it will always swing back.”
“Follow your spirit I’m inside of you,
There’s nothing in this world that we cannot do.”
“Remember my child “To thine own self be true”
“Remember my child that the father loves you”.

By Rosemary Martin©