As I have been looking through my journals and pieces of writing I have done over the years, I have been trying to explore the reason why I feel so strongly about trying to write.
I started and completed a creative writing course a few years ago, the course was excellent (run by the OU and I highly recommend it if you are unsure where to start). The emphasis on this course was to write fiction, and how to use language to form a narrative, the setting, the story, the characters and then how to use various tools to enable you to write. The short story I finished as my final piece was about an unseen ghost, and I was quite pleased with it (if I can find it I will add it on here someday).
But now I look back at some of my non-fiction writing too and see that I have written poems, descriptive pieces, lists and thoughts throughout various times in my life. Sometimes I have been happy, sometimes sad, sometimes very angry and a lot of the time when I have been looking for answers.
That is when I realised that, maybe, one of the reasons I write is as therapy?
I can write the thoughts in my head much better than I can articulate them at times. Especially when I am feeling happy or sad, as an emotional (some may say highly emotional!) person, there are times when the words I need to use to signify how I feel get muddled and garbled, and of course, I am absolutely useless if I get upset or tearful. There is really then no hope of me trying to communicate my thoughts, emotions and needs. This is when I write and through the writing I become coherent.
Over the years I have kept gratitude journals, wrote memoirs from my childhood, wrote letters about grief, letters about my own flaws, my wants and my needs. I don't need to show them to anyone, but the writing is a way of me telling my story, or sharing my anxieties, my hopes and my fears and it works for me to then be able to read it back.
And as with any form of good therapy, through my writing, I then feel as if I am talking to someone who is listening to only me. It is 'me' that is listening to me.
Writing gives me a space, a pause to stop and be, a chance to read what I have written over and then perhaps to realise that 'yes, I need to discuss that' or 'you need to get outside in nature, Ali', whatever the advice I decide to give myself.
Just as I can escape into a good book, I can also become immersed in the process of writing, it feels good to be able to do that sometimes.
There is also the joy, and the power of putting pen to paper. I feel then as if I regain ownership of my voice, my feelings, my life and this is a then a tangible thing, not just a spoken conversation that can be remembered or forgotten but an actual object. A real thought, emotion or moment that becomes more vivid and more lucid because I have taken the time to write it.
So perhaps, this is the main reason I write, not just because I have an imagination with wonderful stories to tell but also that I have a voice, and that sometimes the person I need to listen to the most is myself.
Ali
x
Monday 30 January 2017
Thursday 19 January 2017
Dry January Failure
I blame Rick Stein. If his Long Weekends series was not being shown at 7.00 pm on BBC2 each night since for the last couple of weeks we wouldn't have failed Dry January.
We did try very hard to resist. However, we succumbed, the warmth, comfort and joy of a small glass of red wine was too much to ignore, especially as we watched one of our all time food heroes visit lots of lovely Long Weekend destinations.
Every night we tuned in to watch Rick and his crew eat local food and, of course, drink wine (and sometimes beer too). Last night as Rick visited Palermo in Sicily, we toasted him with a glass of very nice Shiraz (which actually went really well with the Pierogis and kale we had for dinner). YUM, a lovely warm, spicy, comforting glass of red wine to wash down dinner and watch Mr Stein.
So there it is, I blame Rick.
Actually, I don't really blame Rick but perhaps he was the catalyst. This week I took a close friend to her radiotherapy session for breast cancer, then remembered my best friend, Eileen, from Canada who lost her battle with cancer 3 years ago and also posted a condolences card to another friend who has just lost her brave sister to cancer.
Cancer is a cruel reminder that life can be too fleetingly short and that perhaps taking pleasure in the every day small things is a way to living life to the full.
So whilst I continue to exercise, eat healthily - more veggies, less meat etc and we have really cut back on alcohol especially since the festive season, I would rather subscribe to being balanced about it all rather than abstaining altogether.
Cheers Rick, thank you for inspiring both me and Paul to cook, eat and travel, and of course to drink the odd glass of wine too!
Ali
We did try very hard to resist. However, we succumbed, the warmth, comfort and joy of a small glass of red wine was too much to ignore, especially as we watched one of our all time food heroes visit lots of lovely Long Weekend destinations.
Every night we tuned in to watch Rick and his crew eat local food and, of course, drink wine (and sometimes beer too). Last night as Rick visited Palermo in Sicily, we toasted him with a glass of very nice Shiraz (which actually went really well with the Pierogis and kale we had for dinner). YUM, a lovely warm, spicy, comforting glass of red wine to wash down dinner and watch Mr Stein.
So there it is, I blame Rick.
Actually, I don't really blame Rick but perhaps he was the catalyst. This week I took a close friend to her radiotherapy session for breast cancer, then remembered my best friend, Eileen, from Canada who lost her battle with cancer 3 years ago and also posted a condolences card to another friend who has just lost her brave sister to cancer.
Cancer is a cruel reminder that life can be too fleetingly short and that perhaps taking pleasure in the every day small things is a way to living life to the full.
So whilst I continue to exercise, eat healthily - more veggies, less meat etc and we have really cut back on alcohol especially since the festive season, I would rather subscribe to being balanced about it all rather than abstaining altogether.
Cheers Rick, thank you for inspiring both me and Paul to cook, eat and travel, and of course to drink the odd glass of wine too!
Ali
Thursday 12 January 2017
Attempted Cookery Book Edit
I hoard cookery books. I freely admit this and I know I may have a slight problem with wanting to collect, read and sometimes cook from cookery books!
Back in the day before I started my culinary book obsession I used to have a couple of magazine subscriptions - one to Vegetarian Good Food and the other to delicious. Every month I would scour these magazines and then happily rip the recipes I fancied from them to put in my folder or recipe card file.
That was before it became easier to buy cookery books and my recipe file still lives on to this day! Then when I stopped work to have and raise our family, my life included buying cookery books on how to feed babies and toddlers, along with the addition of some of my earliest and most loved cookery books. Delia Smith's Summer and Winter books, anything by Rose Elliot and also Rick Stein's Fruits of the Sea and Seafood books. This was a time when I was in my late 20s, early 30s and we started to grow our own produce, keep hens and were pescatarian (only ate vegetarian food or fish).
A move abroad to live in Calgary, Canada with a restricted weight limit saw the first 'cull' of my precious cookery books. It seemed sensible to only take 10 with me......
That quickly backfired as I discovered the joys of Indigo and Chapters bookstores complete with their massive cookery sections! The long cold Calgary winters meant weekend trips to the bookstores with the kids for coffee, book readings in the kids section and the chance to roam the bookshelves ourselves. I moved back to Scotland with over 30 cookery books, and being able to watch BBC Canada meant the first time I watched Nigella Lawson or Jamie Oliver was over there and it was the ultimate comfort to living abroad watching British cooks and chefs on TV. PBS also showed Two Fat Ladies and a friend sent me a box set of River Cottage dvds. The 4 years abroad saw me not only develop as a home cook but also plan my herb garden, veg plot and start dreaming about keeping our own hens again.
I digress! At the moment we are completing the final touches to the redecoration of our kitchen/dining and family room (repainted in Blue Grey from Farrow and Ball - I love it!). The last parts to be completed are the built in shelves that house part of my cookery book collection and therefore these books are now on the floor waiting for me to sort them out.
For a book lover and keen cook like myself this is not an easy task, therefore I have decided to try and categorise my collection into the following;
 |
| Waiting to be sorted! |
Old Favourites
These are the cookery books that are on the shelves (custom made by Paul for me) next to my fridge. These old friends have sticky pages and notes written over them. I also have a couple of books which used to belong to my Mum and I will never part with them.
Specialist
Recipe books from a particular genre, be it vegetarian, organic, meat, Aga cookery, fish, preserving produce, etc whatever! I may not cook from them often but they are a really good reference.
Aspirational
These are books which inspire me to cook, either been recommended to me or I have read about them or watched something on television about them. Again I probably don't cook from them that often but I do enjoy them.
Seasonal
I do seem to have rather a lot of Christmas Cookbooks! I love Christmas and all the preparation and planning, again I have my favourites including one book which I have been making the Christmas cake recipe from for the last 15 years (never fails!). We also have some outdoor cooking books, for BBQing although these sadly don't get used as often as I'd like living in the North of Scotland.
Travel inspired
I have a small amount of cookery books which I have purchased when returning from trips abroad. These books almost become like bedtime reading as I re-live my trip by browsing through the recipes. My favourite of these right now is Rick Stein's Long Weekends book, made even more wonderful by the fact that I visited two of the same locations as Rick in 2016!
Gift books
I am very lucky in that I have received cookery books as gifts from family and friends over the years. I love these very much and always feel very connected to the person who thought of me when they bought me that book.
Alas I must now return to the hard task of trying to reduce my collection. After all I do need to have some space on my shelves for the books I have yet to buy!
The books I am reading, cooking from and enjoying right now are;
Rick Stein's Long Weekends
Sarah Raven - Good Good Food
Donna Hay - Life in Balance
Trine Hahnemann - Scandinavian Comfort Food
If you lose me in a book store you will always find me in the cookery section!
Ali
Friday 6 January 2017
Rhododendron
Rhododendron, one of my all time favourite words and flowers.
'Rhododendrons are grown for their spectacular flowers, usually borne in spring. Some also have young leaves and stems covered in a striking dense woolly covering (indumentum) and some - the deciduous rhododendrons or azaleas - have good autumn colour.' RHS Gardening website.
Rhododendron. I was probably 5 or 6 years old, in Primary 2 at school and my teacher had called me out to the front of the class to show the rest of the children what I had just painted. My painting was of the hedge we had at the back of our garden. I had painted shiny green leaves, shaped like big ovals and had then added lovely splodges of purple and white for the flowers. Each flower was arranged next to five others, in a circle pattern. The paint smelled lovely and the paper I had used was going soft and wrinkly where I had used too much paint or where my watercolour had too much water. The paints were large solid circles of primary colours in a plastic pallet and I remember being very happy when the colours (red/blue and some white) had mixed to make the purple I wanted.
My teachers Mrs Hein, wrote a large word on the blackboard. Rhododendron, it was a very long word and she wondered if any of us could learn to spell it. This was the name of the plant/hedge I had painted, although Mrs Hein said you could also get white and pink flowers on those plants, I didn't know about that. The flowers in my back garden were purple.
Rhododendron - it is a nice word to say as well as to spell out.
My Rhododendron painting got pinned on the wall. It was the first painting I had had pinned up that school year, I had had a crayon drawing of trees hung up the year before but that was a different class and this time my painting was much bigger. Those things matter when you are probably 5 or 6 years old.
I went home and told my Mum all about the painting and the name of the flowers. Mum helped me practice my spelling of Rhododendron, I wanted to be able to spell it properly as well.
My exact recollection of what happened next is a bit hazy but I think we had a student teacher or some other person, a 'lady', come into the classroom. This 'lady' wanted to watch our class and then talk to our teacher and perhaps she would ask some of us about what work we were doing. Then if she wanted to, she could take you into the headmistresses office (with your teacher there too) and she had a tape recorder where she could record you answering these questions. If you got asked to go in, you would be able to hear what you sounded like on a tape player, it seemed very exciting. I was very excited and happy about this. Perhaps if I got chosen I could hear what I would sound like on tape. My Dad had a Phillips reel-to-reel tape player that he used to play music on at the time.
I can't remember whether this 'lady' was in our classroom for a day, a week or a month. This was 45 years ago after all. Anyway, I did get chosen to go and have a chat with the lady and her tape recorder.
Mrs Hein took me into Miss Adair's (the Headmistress) office and sat next to me as I was asked questions. What did I like about school, what were we working on, what was a I good at? Well, I liked my friend Fiona, I liked my teacher and I liked painting Rhododendrons. I could even spell it, Rhododendron and I did spell it correctly too. Well, that seemed to make everyone very happy, especially me, and wasn't I lucky that I had a back garden with Rhododendrons growing in it she said?
I must have replied, well yes I was very lucky, because I was actually very special. The reason I was special was because my Mummy and Daddy couldn't have children of their own and that God gave them me to be their child instead. I did believe in God then, my Mum was very religious and I was taken to church and Sunday School right the way through my childhood. The 'lady' finished recording me and then let me listen to my answers back, I sounded funny and I thought I had done well telling them about my Rhododendrons. I was sent back to my class while Mrs Hein and the Lady talked.
That was when everything changed for me.
I was sent home with a letter for my Mum.
My Mum had to go to school to have a talk with Miss Adair.
My Mum came home from school and then told me that what I had said was wrong and that I had said something bad. I shouldn't have said I was special, even though that is what I had always been told about myself and my little brother, from then on I wasn't to tell other people that I thought I was special or lucky or adopted. I had to keep it a secret and not upset people. I think my Mum got quite upset about it. I remember thinking that she seemed sad about it. I didn't like that I had made her sad, it made me sad too.
I can't remember what happened to my Rhododendron painting.
And that is the moment I think, when I remember back to my childhood, when the 'fear' started. The fear that I have lived with for most of my life but that now as an adult I try not to. Naive that I was, I told the girl that I sat next to in class what had happened and about how I wasn't to tell people I was special because I was adopted. That girl told me that she knew what being adopted meant, it meant that my 'real' parents didn't want me so they gave me away. She also told every one else in my class too.
I spent most of my childhood trying to be very good, but having nightmares about being given away again. Anxious, timid, shy, daydreamer and quiet - all words from Primary school reports about me. It took me until my teens and twenties to realise that I didn't have to be that scared person, although 'she' appears at times, I do think that I'm doing okay. My fear of abandoment stays with me, it is much smaller now but it is still there.
I will always love and grow Rhododendrons in my garden. They are such happy flowers with beautiful colours and scent, although ours at home was not scented.
I may even try to paint them again. I've signed up for an folio building art course in the spring, perhaps I'll get the shade of purple just right again.
The Rhododendron hedge still grows in the back garden in the house where I grew up, my Dad still lives there, my Mum passed away 7 years ago.
As an adult I think I have finally accepted that I will always carry that 'fear' and that primal wound that all adopted people have. Even after searching and finding both my birth parents, one of whom sadly I can't have a relationship with and the other who is a very important part of my life, I do feel as if I am still scarred. Actually perhaps scarred is not the right word? Not scarred as scars heal, but that there is a covering or scab on that wound which shouldn't be poked or picked at too much. And that is just the way things are, and as with everything in life that I cannot change, there has to be my acceptance of it.
And when Spring arrives this year in a few months, I will look out for the purple flowers of the Rhododendron blooming to remind me of my happy life, which I hope I live as well as I can. Not special in any way but happy.
And for that I am very grateful.
Ali
'Rhododendrons are grown for their spectacular flowers, usually borne in spring. Some also have young leaves and stems covered in a striking dense woolly covering (indumentum) and some - the deciduous rhododendrons or azaleas - have good autumn colour.' RHS Gardening website.
Rhododendron. I was probably 5 or 6 years old, in Primary 2 at school and my teacher had called me out to the front of the class to show the rest of the children what I had just painted. My painting was of the hedge we had at the back of our garden. I had painted shiny green leaves, shaped like big ovals and had then added lovely splodges of purple and white for the flowers. Each flower was arranged next to five others, in a circle pattern. The paint smelled lovely and the paper I had used was going soft and wrinkly where I had used too much paint or where my watercolour had too much water. The paints were large solid circles of primary colours in a plastic pallet and I remember being very happy when the colours (red/blue and some white) had mixed to make the purple I wanted.
My teachers Mrs Hein, wrote a large word on the blackboard. Rhododendron, it was a very long word and she wondered if any of us could learn to spell it. This was the name of the plant/hedge I had painted, although Mrs Hein said you could also get white and pink flowers on those plants, I didn't know about that. The flowers in my back garden were purple.
Rhododendron - it is a nice word to say as well as to spell out.
My Rhododendron painting got pinned on the wall. It was the first painting I had had pinned up that school year, I had had a crayon drawing of trees hung up the year before but that was a different class and this time my painting was much bigger. Those things matter when you are probably 5 or 6 years old.
I went home and told my Mum all about the painting and the name of the flowers. Mum helped me practice my spelling of Rhododendron, I wanted to be able to spell it properly as well.
My exact recollection of what happened next is a bit hazy but I think we had a student teacher or some other person, a 'lady', come into the classroom. This 'lady' wanted to watch our class and then talk to our teacher and perhaps she would ask some of us about what work we were doing. Then if she wanted to, she could take you into the headmistresses office (with your teacher there too) and she had a tape recorder where she could record you answering these questions. If you got asked to go in, you would be able to hear what you sounded like on a tape player, it seemed very exciting. I was very excited and happy about this. Perhaps if I got chosen I could hear what I would sound like on tape. My Dad had a Phillips reel-to-reel tape player that he used to play music on at the time.
I can't remember whether this 'lady' was in our classroom for a day, a week or a month. This was 45 years ago after all. Anyway, I did get chosen to go and have a chat with the lady and her tape recorder.
Mrs Hein took me into Miss Adair's (the Headmistress) office and sat next to me as I was asked questions. What did I like about school, what were we working on, what was a I good at? Well, I liked my friend Fiona, I liked my teacher and I liked painting Rhododendrons. I could even spell it, Rhododendron and I did spell it correctly too. Well, that seemed to make everyone very happy, especially me, and wasn't I lucky that I had a back garden with Rhododendrons growing in it she said?
I must have replied, well yes I was very lucky, because I was actually very special. The reason I was special was because my Mummy and Daddy couldn't have children of their own and that God gave them me to be their child instead. I did believe in God then, my Mum was very religious and I was taken to church and Sunday School right the way through my childhood. The 'lady' finished recording me and then let me listen to my answers back, I sounded funny and I thought I had done well telling them about my Rhododendrons. I was sent back to my class while Mrs Hein and the Lady talked.
That was when everything changed for me.
I was sent home with a letter for my Mum.
My Mum had to go to school to have a talk with Miss Adair.
My Mum came home from school and then told me that what I had said was wrong and that I had said something bad. I shouldn't have said I was special, even though that is what I had always been told about myself and my little brother, from then on I wasn't to tell other people that I thought I was special or lucky or adopted. I had to keep it a secret and not upset people. I think my Mum got quite upset about it. I remember thinking that she seemed sad about it. I didn't like that I had made her sad, it made me sad too.
I can't remember what happened to my Rhododendron painting.
And that is the moment I think, when I remember back to my childhood, when the 'fear' started. The fear that I have lived with for most of my life but that now as an adult I try not to. Naive that I was, I told the girl that I sat next to in class what had happened and about how I wasn't to tell people I was special because I was adopted. That girl told me that she knew what being adopted meant, it meant that my 'real' parents didn't want me so they gave me away. She also told every one else in my class too.
I spent most of my childhood trying to be very good, but having nightmares about being given away again. Anxious, timid, shy, daydreamer and quiet - all words from Primary school reports about me. It took me until my teens and twenties to realise that I didn't have to be that scared person, although 'she' appears at times, I do think that I'm doing okay. My fear of abandoment stays with me, it is much smaller now but it is still there.
I will always love and grow Rhododendrons in my garden. They are such happy flowers with beautiful colours and scent, although ours at home was not scented.
I may even try to paint them again. I've signed up for an folio building art course in the spring, perhaps I'll get the shade of purple just right again.
The Rhododendron hedge still grows in the back garden in the house where I grew up, my Dad still lives there, my Mum passed away 7 years ago.
As an adult I think I have finally accepted that I will always carry that 'fear' and that primal wound that all adopted people have. Even after searching and finding both my birth parents, one of whom sadly I can't have a relationship with and the other who is a very important part of my life, I do feel as if I am still scarred. Actually perhaps scarred is not the right word? Not scarred as scars heal, but that there is a covering or scab on that wound which shouldn't be poked or picked at too much. And that is just the way things are, and as with everything in life that I cannot change, there has to be my acceptance of it.
And when Spring arrives this year in a few months, I will look out for the purple flowers of the Rhododendron blooming to remind me of my happy life, which I hope I live as well as I can. Not special in any way but happy.
And for that I am very grateful.
Ali
Thursday 5 January 2017
Goldfinch
Thursday 5th January has been so busy I haven't had time to think about anything, never mind blogging or writing but I have managed to get a photo of the most recent visitors to my bird feeders outside our kitchen window.
Goldfinch - Muir of Fowlis
I'm starting an art course in April, so I'm starting to collect ideas about what I can draw, sketch, paint etc. Isn't this chap beautiful, I love having birds in the garden.
Wednesday 4 January 2017
Dry January
I'm doing 'Dry January' this year. I didn't last year and my reasoning was that as my birthday is in January and that it was a BIG one in 2016 (50!) that I wanted to be able to celebrate during that month.
I had friends that did 'do' it last year. A whole month without alcohol? Hmmmm, my life's philosophy (based only on my own experience) is that life is too short not to live every day trying to enjoy it. I enjoy having drink to celebrate and relax so why on earth would I want to have no alcohol for a whole month?
However, this year I feel that I am actually going to participate in Dry January for a very good reason, and that reason is ME! I have gone for almost 3 years in my adulthood without drinking in the past due to 3 pregnancies and 3 babies to nurse so I know that I can do it, but on those occasions I was abstaining for the health of my babies (which of course is a very good reason). But this time I am not drinking alcohol for the whole month for my health.
And here are the benefits - a chance to detox, better sleep, more energy and hopefully some weight will magically drop off too! A chance to give my body the love and care it deserves? After all I cook and eat healthy food, we grow as much organic fruit and veg as we can (see my Garden Cuppa blog!), I keep my own chickens for organic eggs, I don't use yucky chemicals on my body or in my house (as much as I can help it), I choose cruelty free products and if I can't afford or source organic meat we don't eat it and stick to a mostly veggie/fish diet.
All good, but then I undo a lot of that when I drink alcohol, and yes we always try to not drink mid-week (ahem!), always 2 nights without alcohol, however, come Wednesday night I'm thinking it's almost the weekend and a bottle of red gets opened to be drunk with dinner, and then of course its all downhill, from finishing that bottle (or another one!) on the Thursday, Fizz Friday, Saturday nights Rioja and finally my Sunday night G&Ts!
So, for all the health benefits that I know happen when you skip alcohol for a few nights a week, now I am skipping it for a whole month. And those friends that did Dry January last year? I really noticed a difference in them, and when I have spoken to them they said they did feel much better, well, as an observer I can honestly say that they looked better too! Now whilst I realise that aged 50 (almost 51) nothing is going to make me look like I'm 5 or even 10 years younger, perhaps getting better sleep and more energy will help me feel it.
Looking forwards to a healthy and happy year ahead, with less trips to the bottle bank as a bonus too!
Cheers
Ali
x
Here is a link to what I'll mostly be drinking this month instead!
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/food-and-drink/healthy-eating/best-non-alcoholic-drinks-dry-january/
I had friends that did 'do' it last year. A whole month without alcohol? Hmmmm, my life's philosophy (based only on my own experience) is that life is too short not to live every day trying to enjoy it. I enjoy having drink to celebrate and relax so why on earth would I want to have no alcohol for a whole month?
However, this year I feel that I am actually going to participate in Dry January for a very good reason, and that reason is ME! I have gone for almost 3 years in my adulthood without drinking in the past due to 3 pregnancies and 3 babies to nurse so I know that I can do it, but on those occasions I was abstaining for the health of my babies (which of course is a very good reason). But this time I am not drinking alcohol for the whole month for my health.
And here are the benefits - a chance to detox, better sleep, more energy and hopefully some weight will magically drop off too! A chance to give my body the love and care it deserves? After all I cook and eat healthy food, we grow as much organic fruit and veg as we can (see my Garden Cuppa blog!), I keep my own chickens for organic eggs, I don't use yucky chemicals on my body or in my house (as much as I can help it), I choose cruelty free products and if I can't afford or source organic meat we don't eat it and stick to a mostly veggie/fish diet.
All good, but then I undo a lot of that when I drink alcohol, and yes we always try to not drink mid-week (ahem!), always 2 nights without alcohol, however, come Wednesday night I'm thinking it's almost the weekend and a bottle of red gets opened to be drunk with dinner, and then of course its all downhill, from finishing that bottle (or another one!) on the Thursday, Fizz Friday, Saturday nights Rioja and finally my Sunday night G&Ts!
So, for all the health benefits that I know happen when you skip alcohol for a few nights a week, now I am skipping it for a whole month. And those friends that did Dry January last year? I really noticed a difference in them, and when I have spoken to them they said they did feel much better, well, as an observer I can honestly say that they looked better too! Now whilst I realise that aged 50 (almost 51) nothing is going to make me look like I'm 5 or even 10 years younger, perhaps getting better sleep and more energy will help me feel it.
Looking forwards to a healthy and happy year ahead, with less trips to the bottle bank as a bonus too!
Cheers
Ali
x
Here is a link to what I'll mostly be drinking this month instead!
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/food-and-drink/healthy-eating/best-non-alcoholic-drinks-dry-january/
Tuesday 3 January 2017
Write
At the end of this festive season and starting of the New Year I find myself drawn to what I would like to achieve for myself in the coming year.
A dear friend has sparked my love of reading, writing again by giving me the most beautiful book as a gift this Christmas.
The book is called Christmas Days by Jeanette Winterson (link below). I have enjoyed reading books by this author previously but this gem of a book has totally captured my love of reading again. It is a collection of short stories interspersed with recipes and I have devoured reading it. How lovely to read a short story that takes you away, or to read a moment of the authors life when she is sharing recipes for food that either she or the people she loves have made. Read it, it is a joy.
And so, I am inspired. Who knows what will appear on these pages. I have taken creative writing courses in the past and haven't shared anything I've written, I have also written lots about love and also about loss and I hope to create new pieces, write fiction and non-fiction, memoirs, recipes, poems who knows. No set rules or deadlines just the chance to be creative. It may be a journey or it may just be typing, but I have to try.
But enough for now, here is the link to that amazing book - read it and then buy a copy for someone you know loves reading, they will love you for it.
http://www.jeanettewinterson.com/book/christmas-days/
Happy New Year
Ali
A dear friend has sparked my love of reading, writing again by giving me the most beautiful book as a gift this Christmas.
The book is called Christmas Days by Jeanette Winterson (link below). I have enjoyed reading books by this author previously but this gem of a book has totally captured my love of reading again. It is a collection of short stories interspersed with recipes and I have devoured reading it. How lovely to read a short story that takes you away, or to read a moment of the authors life when she is sharing recipes for food that either she or the people she loves have made. Read it, it is a joy.
And so, I am inspired. Who knows what will appear on these pages. I have taken creative writing courses in the past and haven't shared anything I've written, I have also written lots about love and also about loss and I hope to create new pieces, write fiction and non-fiction, memoirs, recipes, poems who knows. No set rules or deadlines just the chance to be creative. It may be a journey or it may just be typing, but I have to try.
But enough for now, here is the link to that amazing book - read it and then buy a copy for someone you know loves reading, they will love you for it.
http://www.jeanettewinterson.com/book/christmas-days/
Happy New Year
Ali
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