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Twelve unconnected things November 30, 2009

Posted by Fiona in Craftiness, Durham, Knitting, Law, Literature, Small things, University.

1.  I’ve just reinstated writing a diary, after eighteen months absence.  I say this partly because it’s arguably interesting and it’s definitely recent, but also as explanation for the lack of contact recently.  The writing of diary itself may or may not be a success – at the moment we’re just at the Getting To Know You Stage and it’s still a bit awkward, so we’ve been having a bit of alone time over the last few days, y’know, just to see how things work out.  All in all, it’s going alright, but I still think we might have more luck with the absence of lined paper.  But there we go.

2.  I really do think I am the sort of person who falls in love with people on public transport.

3.  I also appear to be the sort of person who gets chatted up on public transport.  Particularly the Durham-Home railway line.  I know it’s a long journey, but seriously, the number of times it happens.  Especially since it never happens anywhere else in the world these days.

4.  Relatedly, there is definitely something to be said for having a ball of yarn, and a notebook and pencil, and a long time on a train, and thinking well yes I would like to make such and such for so and so, and doing the maths a bit, and discovering that actually, the best thing you could be doing is actually making it.  And so you do.  And then, when you get off the train quite a long time later you have three or so inches of it and it looks amazing.  I’ve just got into designing my own things recently – and honestly, it gives me a buzz like few other things.  You know when I get excited because something is pretty and I did it?  Well, it’s pretty, and I did it, from scratch, with nobody holding my hand or showing me what to do next, it’s like knitting for big girls.  And I can sod about with all the cabley goodness to my heart’s content.

5.  Any ills that are not cured by six hours, a pair of headphones and some knitting needles can most definitely be cured by a 30-degree slice of my mum’s cheesecake.  Especially when it’s eaten at home, with the whole family, half a bottle of rose and the Independent on Sunday crossword.  Fact.

6.  I went out shopping with my sister on Saturday, and after her coming up to Durham not long ago I feel like I’ve got my sister back.  I missed her when she was busy getting to sixteen.

7.  I don’t care if I stopped being Young And Ethereal long ago, there’s something about candlelight that puts me in the mood for writing stories.

8.  I can’t write stories for toffee any more.  Or poetry.  I can’t write fiction any more.  This crept up on me a bit; I used to do it for fun.  I’m slowly getting used to the fact that being a published author, for me, was something I wanted to do when I was grown up.  Like being a fairy, or the prime minister.  Or an actor.  Or Stella Rimington.  I still have the short stories in my head – but I can’t write them any more.

9.  On Thursday, I am going somewhere other than here, to meet someone I haven’t seen in a good few months.  And I decided it this afternoon: I don’t care about the weather.  I’m going to dress up.  It’s an occasion, I shall damned well treat it so.

10.  I have the greatest respect for stay at home mums but I am coming rapidly to the conclusion that I could never, ever, do-it-or-die ever be one.

11.  The inside of the library is really quite endearing when you see it enough.

12.  I am knitting this hat and it is the most exciting thing in the world.  Seriously.  You should make something from scratch.  It makes you feel so grown-up.  I’ve been bouncing up and down with excitement for the last two days.  I invite you to do something, anything you like, to feel the same sort of way.  Poetry.  Watercolours.  Cake.  Oh go on, it’s just so sparkly and wonderful.



1. thewariefiend - December 1, 2009

I shall wear my tailcoat.

2. L - December 1, 2009

People who dont doodle are not human. Not properly anyway.
I suppose knitting more efficiently fills the gap. Nothing useful ever came out of a biro on a corner of paper. Well, nothing that’d keep me that little bit warmer, and over this past week that is pretty much what I would define “Useful” as.
I too get all excited when I’ve made something pretty. Though in my case, this excitement involves literal bouncing and shoving said piece of home-baked prettiness into other peoples faces like a child.

No, no, no, idiot, no! And I’ve read hardly any of your stories. They’re not gone, not yet. To say you cant write poems again is like the world suddenly deciding not to produce hot chocolate anymore, or giivng up on making clockwork.

Oh I dont know. You’re damned shiny.

3. yourmouthisadisaster - December 3, 2009

8.You probably can write – you just can’t at the moment. Don’t give up on it just yet.

2. I fall in love with people on public transport all the time. Mainly women, and it’s probably because I mainly want to *be* who I imagine them to be, but sometimes men, because I want to marry someone a bit like them but not a total stranger. I like falling in love with people on public transport.

5. Sounds like a wonderful weekend at home 🙂 and I am glad.

1. I have kept a diary since I was ten, and I don’t think there’s ever been a significant gap – of more than, say, a month or two. Although then I always felt guilty and whilst I’d really want to write about Big Pressing Current Issue I first have to write a sort of catch up of stuff that I’d actually thought over dealt with and moved on from, so it really would be a bullet point list sometimes, and then I’d be too tired or bored of writing to write out whatever was bothering me at the time.

Now I definitely write far more frequently and also I tend to be saying nice jolly stuff like ‘church was lovely’ or ‘had a nice time at the pub’ or ‘can’t wait for this, or that’ because I’m not so emotional as I used to be. Arguably there is now little ‘point’ in such a journal because it’s not like I’m using it as a sort of origami counsellor, but I still feel the need to write, and feel like doing so, and I’d love to be able to look back someday and think, wow, my teens were ridiculous, but then I got all domestic and happy, and that’ll make me feel all warm inside.

I should definitely stop commenting about now. Also letter heading your way soon I hope.


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