Writing

I've bought quite a few books of poetry over recent weeks, from good and sometimes challenging writers. Overall the standard has been high; I hope what I write can match up to that. Often getting the first two or three words down is the most important thing. I may not know at that point what I want to say, but once you force yourself to start, something flows. Some of my poems are almost the finished article when first written - stream of consciousness stuff, I suppose; others will take years of work before I'm happy. None of them are ever finished; there just comes a time when I have to set down my pen, or these days more usually lift my fingers from the keyboard - the discipline to leave it at that. In any case, no poem is completed until read, what I write is never just mine, I have to take the risk of sharing.

Our sunny bit of Michaelmas summer continues, but not for much longer I fear. I've stained and prepared most of our exterior woodwork (of which we have a great deal) before the rigours of winter. We have a few tomatoes left, but the plum tomatoes have all rotted on the vine for some reason. Things are winding down, and there'll be some cutting back and clearing to be done later on today. We've had a wonderful display of Japanese anemones, though - I'm pleased, because when I previously tried them they wouldn't grow for me (annoying, since two gardens away they were as rampant as weeds!).

This week my Permission to Officiate (PTO) in Hereford Diocese arrived. I've been officiating, with the Bishop's blessing, for several months, but it feels good to have the right piece of paper at last.