Writing 101 One, Stream of Consciousness

I’m doing the WordPress Writing 101 as from today and the first project is stream of consciousness. I won’t be posting the 101 stuff every day, more likely I’ll write every day and post bits from time to time.

This is what sprang out earlier.

Twenty minutes, that’s how long they were standing there. Whispering. What about? Or maybe who about, could it be me? Is it my turn? How long have I had this paranoia? Perhaps since playground days. They were always at it, at the back of class when Miss wasn’t looking, hiding behind their hands, staring at me, sneaky, laughing eyes. When they saw me look back they would look away quickly and giggle in their throats, keeping their mouths shut tight.

Strange, I can’t remember who they were. I remember the nice girls, Linda White, Lesley Morton and Jane Shelton, even one lad, Andrew Philips. He was always competing with me, he was top boy in every test, and I was top girl. I wonder why they separated us into girl/boy, would that happen now? Anyway we were well matched, he would score one point higher one week, the next it would be me. Most often we’d get the exact same mark, with our matching IQ’s. I bet he isn’t poor now, probably heading up some massive organisation (should have married him) unlike me, I wasted my grammar school years. My friends and I were too damn rebellious for our own good. Not that we had much to rebel against, if only that energy had been put to good use, but we were girls, still are of course. Nothing much was expected of us, despite Grammar School. We could be secretaries or nurses, a few dedicated ones could be teachers if they had the right background. I didn’t. We could work in a shop, become machinists in the bra factory or be hairdressers. I worked in a shop on Saturdays when I was still at school and walked out of the first one, they wanted me to wrap meat in cling film! Thinking about it, no-one suggested the bra factory until much later, I could sew well so that might have worked. Churning out fifty ‘Super Bras’ a day . . . perhaps not.

Hairdressing, that was never going to happen. I liked make up and beauty products like every other teenage girl, but no hairdresser in my part of England, would have taken on an apprentice with hair like mine. Looking the part would have been compulsory, back then who would want their hair styled by someone with head of frizz? Nope, hardly a black or mixed race woman to be seen, never mind one who styled hair.

I didn’t work out the answer from the beginning of this twenty minute stream of consciousness write, but hey, that’s the point. Maybe tomorrows Writing 101 will bring me back here.

 

Nests of Primates

Lucid Gypsy:

With apologies for the few of you that have read this before, I’m reposting this early blog for ‘Adventure’ this weeks photo challenge. I haven’t tagged it Daily Post because that’s supposed to be new photos, but I may not ever have a bigger adventure!

Originally posted on Lucid Gypsy:

No-one can prepare for rain forest. Really dense rain forest that is. I’d travelled in several African countries pottering through patches of moist jungle areas, but it was a world away from Borneo. Here I found myself eyeball to nature in its rawest sense, even in my forest lodge, where I encountered a poisonous green snake crossing the path to my hut. I was brought up by my grandparents, Devon country folk who belonged in Victorian times. They told me that snakes can ‘kill you dead’ and that there are poisonous adders on Woodbury Common. This put the fear of God in me, and it never left.

The next morning, I found a snake trying to suffocate a toad on my doorstep. I watched, holding tight to my stomach, telling myself that it couldn’t be poisonous it was a constrictor, as moment by moment it’s grip on it’s dinner got…

View original 1,313 more words

Full Tanka Day Seven

I’ve reached the end of the weekly writing challenge with day 7, it’s been fun and surprisingly easy. I’ve used a photo from each month from March, to inspire me and last night I took this one for September.

tanka7

Echinacea

you’re the Daisy of daisies

purple coneflower

guide me safely through winter

most splendid and healing plant

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_writing_challenge/full-tanka/

Come away with the raggle taggle gypsy-o

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