Blackie, our one-time dog

Blackie, our one-time dog

Evelyn’s first June Blog. 2nd June, or thereabouts.

Finally, the sun came out on Saturday 31st May, for about an hour. So I sat outside and bagged cuttings. It took me the whole hour, and some. It was pleasant. The sun was not too hot, just comfortable. I managed a full sack of cuttings. Most of the job was done. By then, lunchtime had arrived. Of course, the clouds piled up later and the dull day returned. Not cold, I grant you. I hope the sun comes back tomorrow.

I have submitted a poem for a charity for animals. I hope it gets accepted. I will also submit a short story about a tiger, if I can locate it. I do belong to another Group that publishes books for childrens’ charities. I do not contribute to every publishing, time constraints, etc., but probably i may contribute to the next published book. It is so good to join with other writers to produce literature that pinpoints areas that need monetry help.

I also contributed to an anthology that is Apocalyptic in content. One short story and three poems. A second anthology following also contains another of my short stories, written specifically to specialised subject matter. That one, if published, was about Secrets.

So you see, it isn’t just for my own published works that I write. It is good to spread oneself, do different things, in different ways, that keep the juices flowing. Once my work is transferred to my (temporarily) borrowed computer, I can get back to editing my romance novel, it is called ‘Those Tangerine Hills’. A very kind friend is helping me with the cover, and it is already showing great promise.

I feel quite excited by it all. I had hoped this book would have been on Kindle last year, but family ill health has postponed this date to at least a year later, if not more. The cover of one of my already published books is hopefully going to be changed soon. That one is called ‘Ten English Tales’, though I may also change the title as there are not ten but twelve short stories included.

I wish that I could write something humerous that has happened to me. Nothing like that all, I am afraid. I did once write a humerous short story, set on a cruise ship where the plumbing has gone wrong and someone is stuck in the very tiny shower cubicle. I surprised myself with that one.

Sunday. Again, the sun Shone and, sitting cutting hedge (? I am disabled), a small boy went past me. ‘I got this’, he said, holdng up something round and shiny. ‘I lost my tooth,’ he said, smiling. It turned out to be a £2 coin. Very shiny, I thought. And as he and his mother carried on up the street, I ithought, my, the Tooth Fairy has upped her prices since my daughter was young, and even higher than when I was child, where 6 pence was the preffered payment for a tooth.

Monday morning, people moving, to work, to school, even to shop early and again, as it should be, the sun is out. How good to see it once more. You never can tell if the weather will change, and old adages like ‘strike while the iron is hot (wonder if that heralds from blacksmithing terminology?)’ come into play, so, weary as I may be, it will be back to cutting hedge later on.

Addendum. It was lovely outside, at first, but as usual, the cloud has come across the sky, and, whereas, it is not cold, there was a coolish breeze that made being out there even more comfortable. But now, damaged ( sharp twigs where I was cutting), I am back inside and will shortly be on the computer. I have to ami, cutting by hand is a hard job, though not unpleasant. Not many cars or vans go by and not that many people either. Sometimes the birds cheep, and often they are silent. I suppose they too must have down time.

Be good to each other lovely people,



One thought on “Blackie, our one-time dog

  1. I think it’s great that you spend time in the garden. When I’m stuck, and my story is just refusing to co-operate, I spend time staring out of the window. At this time of year, it’s great, the garden is full of birds, sometimes squirrels, we even had a porcupine, but over the winter it did get rather depressing. The snow was beautiful at first, but as the time went on, it got darker and darker as it mixed with sand and grit. I was complaining about to my son, when he pointed out that something similar should have been happening in my story, as the events wound down to crisis point. It taught me to think about the relation between the story and the season. Before hand i’d chosen at random, now I now that the time period and setting is also part of telling the story.

    There is so much to learn, when trying to write!

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