In case you were wondering why I haven't written a blog for a while, it's because I've been driven out of the house. Now I know why so many women are out jogging/shopping/volunteering at the weekends - it's because their menfolk are cluttering up the family home so they need to escape.
It may sound a little harsh, but you should know I do feel bad for my OH, who has suffered from his company's latest rif - no, not a musical production but a Reduction In Force. Financially he's had a reasonable pay-off, but emotionally obviously he is stunned. Which means he's spending a lot of time around the house, either bemoaning the state of the universe or grumping about how he'll never get another job ever. This is patent rubbish as he has already had two phone-calls trying to arrange interviews, but in the meantime I have chosen to go and help out again at the local school. One of the teachers is Felicity's sister-in-law and knows about the blog, so I have been forbidden from writing anything at all about what goes on there, under threat of the child protection act, but since there's little of interest about the children themselves (their parents are another matter!) it's not a problem.
The OH also threw Joe out. Well, not exactly threw him out, but suggested that if he was going to use the room on a regular basis, he should pay rent. This is completely unreasonable in my opinion as we're not using it ourselves, but when you've just been made redundant, I suppose allowances have to be made for unreasonable behaviour.
"I'd pack up for now and then, if you want to come back when he's calmed down, I'll let you know," I told Joe, who just smiled weakly without answering one way or another. Though there was a large bouquet of flowers delivered the following day with a simple 'Thanks' written on the note, which can't have come from anyone else.
In other news, one of my presents at Christmas was from David, in the poetry group, which was very sweet of him, and was the Stephen Fry book, 'The Ode Less Travelled'. I have been trying to follow it properly - Fry gives very specific instructions - but I was inspired by one of the comments in the introduction to write the following villanelle. Let me know if you like it!
On Writing Poetry (with thanks to Stephen Fry!)
I have no inkling how to start,
And listen to these words in vain:
"Technique is just the Greek for art."
The moment when true lovers part,
A wartime death, a drop of rain -
I have no inkling how to start.
I seek the words to set apart
A poem sure to bring me fame,
With no technique to make it art.
An idea's there within my heart;
Thesauruses must take the strain
For I've no inkling how to start
And clogged up rhyme, and counterpart
Strict rhythm, make themselves the bane
Of technique, just the Greek for art!
Heroic couplets won't impart
Enough to fool my struggling brain.
I have no inkling how to start
And technique's all just Greek for art.