I am a person who looks ahead, moves forward, leaves the past behind. Generally speaking, that is. Up until the last couple of years, that is. Until I had to look back, that is. The problem with looking forward is that it’s too easy to get stuck in the groove of making the same mistakes … Continue reading Understanding the Past
Memory is as slippery as an over-buttered kipper. Nourishing though. We’re at the midway point of the challenge, and my theme has taken on a far greater significance than it had when I first rather flippantly chose it. Memory has played tricks on me as I’ve written these posts, putting me in places at different … Continue reading Memory
With ‘Memory’ as my theme for the A to Z Blogging Challenge, I’ve been working my way through the alphabet this month. For each letter, I think ‘what can I recall about B or K or H’ and so on, and fairly quickly a word pops into my head. So far I’ve been able to … Continue reading ‘L’ Words…
‘I Remember’ is a writing exercise that was taught to me by either Tim Pears or Geoff Dyer. I can’t remember which, as they were both leading writing workshops that week. It was an Arvon Foundation writing holiday in Yorkshire, which entailed workshops everyday and cosy communal living in an old house that used to … Continue reading I Remember…
The first ‘H’ I think of when I grope around for a memory is Haworth, where the Bronte’s grew up and lived in a parsonage with their father. When I was training to be an English teacher, we took a group of students up to the museum. They’d been reading Wuthering Heights with another teacher, … Continue reading Haworth Heather
I have a number of mental snapshots that feature giraffes - four memories to be precise. I’m in the back of Dad’s car and he’s driving. Mum is in the passenger seat. We’re at a wildlife park somewhere in England, but I can’t remember which. Dad has his window open. A giraffe lopes towards the … Continue reading Giraffes – four of them.
Fecund is one of my favourite words. It means: fertile, fruitful, reproduction, prolific, rich, pregnant. Juicy word, eh? I remember clearly where I found the word fecund. I was seventeen or eighteen. We were studying David Herbert Lawrence’s The Rainbow for A Level Literature at Princethorpe College, an imposing Catholic boarding school in Warwickshire. There … Continue reading Fecund (or: Falling in love with two older men from afar)