Archive for ‘Personal’

September 5, 2013

Warm September

Today it’s a warm & sunny September day. Days like today always remind me of a few things.

They remind me of going back to school & it’s still too hot to play sport but you’re made to do it anyway. You’re made to run in rugby kit & the ground is hard & everyone has to make the decision whether to wear trainers or boots & everyone who chooses trainers immediately regrets it because you just can’t play rugby in trainers.

It reminds me of the September after I left school, before university, on holiday in Florida. We were all there. I know I’ll look back in a number of years and think that was the time just before everything changed. In fact, I think that a little now, but I hope I’ll have better perspective then. Florida is very hot at that time of year. It’s hurricane season too but I can’t remember much about that. I remember the beaches were sandy and there were pelicans. & it’s only a week before you leave home, probably for good, & you have no idea what that’s going to feel like. I remember thinking that I didn’t want to actually experience it but I just wanted to know what it would feel like.

It reminds me of the time Ali & I walked in the mountains & we were late for the train & we had to take a short cut and ford across the river Dyfi. We were going to cut onto the train track & cross over the bridge & get the train from Dyfi Junction but some other walkers we met on top of a mountain were against the idea & said if we got caught we’d get it & even though we knew that probably wouldn’t happen we were still too sacred of getting caught to try it. So instead we cut down into the valley & jumped some fences until we made it to the river & then feeling like we were Bear Grylls took our clothes off, put everything in our rucksacks, tied our boots together, slung them round our necks & stepped into the river.

At first it didn’t seem like much. It was cold, I remember that. And the stones hurt our feet but as soon as they were numb the water felt good. We got half-way pretty quick but then we realised how big the river was & the other side was much deeper than we had expected & we struggled to work over to the other bank. But we eventually made it & then put our clothes on, feeling the world of course, because we had just forded the mighty Dyfi and it was an Indian Summer. AN INDIAN SUMMER. & the Dfyi was mighty and we crossed it, & then we found a path and got the train.

It reminds me too of the flat that Nem Nem and I first lived in when we got married. It had this big open plan lounge/dinner/kitchen & the length of the wall had some good windows & the whole thing faced south & I remember trying to write my MA & struggling so — for inspiration — just watching Jean-Luc Goddard in the morning & then in the afternoon, when the sun came in & the room got really really hot, either hanging clothes or moving the sofa back & doing weights or something like that, & the whole room felt fantastic.

June 14, 2011

Where’s Bill Oddie When You Need Him?

This afternoon I was sitting in the lounge and a bird flew into the window. When I got up I saw that it was on its back and it was flapping its wings a little. I was about to ring Bill Oddie to ask for some help but then I remembered he’s on holiday. I would have phoned Kate but she’s doing Springwatch in Wales and I can’t remember the RSPB number off the top of my head so I had to watch it die. Anyway, it didn’t take too long. Just a few leg twitches and it was gone.

I took a photo of it. I guess it’s a bit gross. It’s talons look massive to me.

 

May 10, 2011

Rain Rain, Please Stop Getting My Washing Wet.

Blewog managed to complete the trio of great writers with greater moustaches. See his comment.

That saw an end to that.

In other news: spring is here and my washing is getting wet by an unexpected downpour.

I finally finished reading Raymond Carver’s collected short stories Where I’m Calling From. It only took 5 months. It is long. But good. Well, I think it’s the best actually. So it was worth it.

I’ve spent time doing what every good/bad unpublished writer does and scoured the Writers & Artists Yearbook for all its advice. Watch this space.

March 30, 2011

On Hemingway

I think he is a great writer. Some people differ on this. He was certainly a good writer. That’s what he would have said anyway; I think. But I like him.

I read a collection of quotes and transcripts of his, written up by someone, anyway, the book is called Hemingway On Writing. In a way it is a kind of biography.

It’s stimulating and I enjoyed it. It didn’t take long to read. I was particularly impressed with his consistency of opinion on writing/writing process/life (that’s general) ect… I also think he was quite wise for a young man. Which can be unusual.

There is also an interesting correspondence between him and Scott Fitzgerald. I would like to read more so I will get the collection of letters that has been put together. I think it is still in print.

There was also a Pinter Posse meeting this morning. I seem to be able to blog after a Pinter Posse meeting. I like it. I think there is something in that. I haven’t written too much on the blog recently. That is because I have been mainly writing short stories which is not a bad thing.

But now I feel like writing and the blog is the quickest way to write.

March 4, 2011

Update in the World of Jonblog.

Let’s see, been busy busy.

The weather has been darn fine in Aberystwyth this week. A wee bit nippy and, as my mother always said, ‘bitter’. What does that mean? The weather gives you a bad after taste?

It’s like those nonsense jokes she used to tell me:

‘Why is a mouse when it spins?’ she said.

‘Erm…’ I said.

‘The higher it goes the fewer,’ she said.

‘Right,’ I said.

Which is a bit like postmodern language poetry because they like to put seemingly unassociated words next to each other and to disintegrate narrative and sentence and structure and poetic line.

Like this:

 

apples in the middle

L

A

M

P

S

ntoeoobk wirntnig

 

Ok, that is a terrible example. Actually, a good example is to look at digital poetries. That’s kind of there, almost, but a little different, but still, it’s quite a good example.

February 17, 2011

A Large McPinter and Chips, Please

It’s been a little while since I wrote up a meeting of the Pinter Posse. The truth is that there haven’t really been any official meetings; which, I think, is a shame. I kind of feel like there isn’t much committment from the other members.

Nonetheless, Valentines Day came around, and it was lovely to spend a very non/un/dis-valentines day breakfast with Blewog and Mr Meiring.

Mr Meiring has been mentioned before somewhere unfortunately, due to a legal reason, I’m not allowed to show his picture here. Instead, I gave my friend, who is an artiste, a description. This is the representation he drew:

Quite clever eh.

Anyway, it was nice, we had a McDonald’s breakfast, which is always a joy. Whatever people say.

But back to Pinter Pinter. I found this quote – so I thought I would give you all a taste:

“Shirts like these don’t go far in the winter-time. I mean that’s one thing I know for a fact. No, what I need, is a kind of shirt with stripes, a good solid shirt, with stripes going down.”

Mhmm.

January 30, 2011

Sweaty in Ninety Degree

Tim, my cousin and long standing friend, came to visit this weekend. I can’t say that we haven’t had anything other than an absolutely lovely time.

He has a new car. It’s a Ford Focus and he likes to pretend it’s a rally car, so we drove it in the mountains yesterday afternoon and he scared Jon  Harris – who held on to the door handle with white knuckles – and Sean, who said: ‘You’re a nutter mate’ in a South Waleian accent.

Here is a picture of Tim and me to time that we were in Disney World and we went on the teacups in 90 degree heat and spun them as fast as we could.

I’m really sweaty but I don’t care because I am super dizzy and don’t know which way is up. I can’t remember who took the photo but I bet they would have said something like: ‘You’re a nutter mate.’

January 28, 2011

The Sean, Blewog and Me Show

Oh. There was shear banter. I mean, it was off the wall.

It’s interesting though, because when you sit down with a group of friends you end up telling each other stories of what you used to get up to, the things you have been through together, or what you would like to do. I don’t think it would necessarily make for good reading though.

Maybe that’s where the reality TV show got it’s idea from. Essentially that’s all a reality show does – create a story out of real people in a particular situation.

Is that good TV?

Hmm.

If there was a reality TV show with Sean, Blewog and Me I think it would get a gazillionmillion voyeuristicers. We wouldn’t live in a house, but in the Ship and Castle – which is the pub we went to – not to drink the days away but because there is a painting of a ship on the wall and she is called ‘Sean’.

It looked a little bit like this:

Just add some artistic imagination.

January 26, 2011

Banter with Boys Boys Boys

I’m about to go out for a drink with Blewog and Sean. You don’t know what Sean looks like, but I do, so I suppose that’s the main thing. If he had a blog then I would link it.

Anyway, I digress.

My point is that I think there is going to be lots of banter with the boys boys boys.

January 25, 2011

Mr Harris: what about your snowmanfriend

Jon Harris – the one with the snowmanfriend – has left me this week for other friends in Cardiff and I can’t help but feel slightly shunned. When I asked him who he was going to see he gave a vague response about somebody called Dan.

I said: Dan? You can’t just make up friends.

He then mentioned a certain young lady.

Now. I know you want the name, but I’m not going to give it. No. No. No.

Anna.

I’m joking I just made that up. Anyway I only have one question.

Mr Harris: what about your snowmanfriend

and me?

Also, writing as been off the agenda of things to do for about five weeks now. I’ve written nothing – apart from the odd bloggerpost and journal entry – and it’s starting to take effect, which is good. I think I will starve myself for another week, maybe two and then write and see what happens.