The sheer Godawful dreariness of the day.
With apologies to Daniel Defoe.
Thought it would be a good idea to write a brief note each day during these strange times if only to remind me. It is so long since I have written I am not even sure if there is anyone out there reading.
All probable jobs have disappeared in a puff of smoke overnight – A Taste of West Cork, The Clonakilty Distillery. This does mean I have a lot of time for my own work. Have decided to spend the next few weeks working as much as I can and to start writing too. Have been going to Arnold Fanning’s Memoir writing course with no discernible writing having been produced. Not a criticism of the class though or AF, they are brill and full of interesting and articulate women writers.
It is actually St Patrick’s day today. The weather continues to be dreadful. It has been like this since I got back at the beginning of Feb. I am dying to get into the garden but it has been more or less impossible.
Pruned the orchard yesterday in a brief sunny lull in the endless, endless rain – one of the most nerve-wracking garden jobs I have ever done. The rabbits are back I am pleased to say – I nearly trod on one in the orchard, it shot off under my feet and scuttled off. I really hope they are not going to go after my trees which would be a disaster. They can kill off an orchard over night. Perhaps I should leave out some carrots.
Spent the day drawing.
Watching: Orlando (Sally Potter)
Reading: Orientalism (Edward Said)