Reminiscing

Only one thing mattered during those long summer months whilst growing up (apart from playing), and that was stories. I would walk down to the library in Saltaire and take out six books at a time - whizz through them and go back for more. Another favourite place for books was the small post office which sold cheap hardbacks of Lorna Doone, Treasure Island and Enid Blyton's various collections. There was stationery too. Silvine notebooks in deep red, textured covers with fine lines or squares were my favourite. 

And the pencil case I had was always a wooden box -the kind that had a sliding lid. Then there were my father's old fountain pens -none of them work now, but I would spend up to half a day cleaning them and getting them writing when I was a child. 

My step-sister had a great collection of books, some of them old colonialist tales of hunters in Africa, the Cherry Tree series and Sherlock Holmes. She bought me The Hobbit, To Kill a Mocking Bird, and Moby Dick -keen to encourage my interest in stories - she chose well though I have to confess. I also adored poetry and developed a liking for all kinds of styles.

I was a keen nosie-parker and would watch the world idle by on hot afternoons, whilst sitting on a cushion on the front doorstep, with a notebook and pen. My observations were brief and officer-like and included all kinds of details about neighbours, strangers and animals. I loved the sounds of summer in a town - busy roads, ice cream vans and rollerskates.

Our local police officer  would often stop and talk to me and ask me what I was writing about - and would also make suggestions about the kind of things he thought were useful. This set a precedent, and I and an old friend took to walking up and down local streets noting details of cars, washing on lines and who was out and who was sunbathing in their backyard. 

And so it went on....

Puddy tat puddy tat..where av u been

I have a cat - a bonkers-cat. We have had cats for years and of course many adventures too because of them.

This particular bonkers-cat is called Panther (yup he's black) also known as Delboy came to stay with us as a kitty-wak with is bro Fudge (tabby - gorgeous strawberry-ginger) - also known as Rodney.

They seemed a lovely pair, but as some of you know - they separated and Fudge was cast-out of the family home by Panther -we think Fudge tried to sue Panther, but lost and took up residence with writer-lady up the road.

Panther has had a difficult time of it lately and has also had to spend nights away from the home he fought over, at 2 catteries. The last time he went was during my mother's funeral  - for around 10 days. We managed to collect him 23rd December, despite snow-conditions.

He was so pleased to be back and was very giddy...and a little bit poorly - rumbly-tum-itis.

Xmas eve he went out for the night - bonkers! It was well below freezing - but a cat is a cat. And he didn't come back til New Year's Eve.

See, the trouble with a bonkers-cat is that there is no hole small enough to climb in to or roof too tall that can't be scaled. To look at him, one wouldn't think he was capable - he's kinda rotund with short legs - but he can't half move!

We once rescued him from the roof of the Pink Cottage when he was just a few months old - maybe he was practising then.

Or perhaps he thinks he's part of Santa's team of prezzie-deliverers or indeed a wee prezzie himself.

The neighbours behind us were quite surprised to find him down one of their chimneys this morning - a wee bit smelly, fusty, skinny - they fed him and let him go. They had to cut away the board that blocked off the old hearth - he had been sitting in a narrow gap for a few days in the base of an old unused chimney-breast.

We are very pleased to have him back - our bonkers-cat.

Nanowrimo

Saturday 7th of November and am fighting off cowboys already.

I might write more about my nano, but then that would be silly. What do you think? Writing about writing...

Just a warning -incase you feel safe and smug in your human world - there's more to communication than we can ever grasp even with technology.

I'll let you know at the end what happens.