My small stones haven’t been as mindful as last year, mainly because I haven’t had enough time to write poetry, because of writing for assignments. That isn’t to say that I take poetry very seriously, I enjoy writing poems now, but I’m still too lazy/busy to learn how to do it. So I’ve used photos quite a few times and little anecdotes about the days happenings. I’ve also whinged about the weather and felt sorry for myself a few times. I’ve shown you Exeter, copper beech and talked about asthma. I’ve shared a sort of recipe for soup, which has since been tried by Sharon from A Number of Things, reminded you that Pride and Prejudice has been around for 200 years and shown you a fingernail moon.
My most popular stone has been number thirteen, a gallery of about twelve photos where a flock of geese circle and then land, and I must admit I quite like it myself.
I’ve enjoyed adding stones to the river, but most of all I’ve enjoyed reading and seeing YOUR stones, thanks for sharing! I hope next year that a few more of you my friends join in, because even though my writing hasn’t been particularly mindful, I have been more mindful during January, and that has to be good.
Thank so much for being around, commenting and liking, and generally helping me through what is the toughest month for a tropical gypsy living on latitude 50.718412 N.
I’ve just watched a local TV program, a mix of magazine and news. One of tonights offerings was the story of a young man, just seventeen who had a major stroke. He now has ‘locked in’ syndrome, and his parents had been told that he would never be able to communicate – he proved them wrong. He is in a wheelchair and unable to speak, but now uses his eye movements to control a computer, that then types and speaks his words. So to help other stroke victims he is writing a book.
How dare I complain that I’ve lost my mojo.
She’s been a ray of sunshine that helped me through the week, especially when I was stressed because I had to apply for my job. She’s moving to a great new pastures and I’m sure she will love it and they will wonder how they managed before!
My Mojo packed its bags in November and hasn’t been seen since. No-one knows where it went, why it went or what it got up to when it was away. I was quite worried about it at first and considered filing a missing Mojo report. But then I got angry instead. I yelled, I sulked, I told it I didn’t care if it never came back, because I had no plans to use it anyway. Then something strange happened – like in all the best stories – just when I came close to giving up, it showed up, acting as if nothing had even happened.
Today I wrote the first draft, nearly three thousand words, of a short story that will be my next assignment for my creative writing course. And breath.