Boarding pass for first hop printed
passport, visa, where to meet
to-be-packed clothes and open suitcase
pile of books to be thinned out
panic vies with anticipation:
I fly to Atlanta in the morning.
This not turning out to be quite the small stone it was originally intended to be I've put it here. 'HoW' stands for 'House of Writers' or 'House of Words' which will be the second gathering of fellow bloggers on the Six Sentences social site, all of whom have become friends over the past year or so. The first one was in New Orleans last September, this second event will be in North Carolina - three times the number attending and much anticipation of good chat and getting to know each other and, of course, lots of talk about writing.
Showing posts with label friendship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friendship. Show all posts
Monday, 11 July 2011
Wednesday, 25 May 2011
Friendship
 | |
| 'Coast walks' Orkney Gallery, 2006 |
We'd met at art college - both mature students - shared a love of Orkney - she had to be one of the best ever friends to go on holiday with - practical, cheerful and appreciative - and several exhibitions, both locally and in Orkney. Beyond this we had little in common so there was no compulsion to keep meeting.
Nevertheless it was great to catch up, to find we still communicated on an equal level of trust and liking - and we look forward to getting together again in another couple of years or so ...
Wednesday, 27 April 2011
Friends of friends
Jenny’s friends
five couples.
all who’d heard
of the other four
and knew by name.
All trying to remember
what they’d heard
and which particular
traits and foibles
appertained to each.
Us the latest on the scene.
(colleagues since 1989),
others neighbours,
or met when children born,
and earlier ones since Uni.
And I could see
that some of these
could be friends with me
but others – no,
not ever!
five couples.
all who’d heard
of the other four
and knew by name.
All trying to remember
what they’d heard
and which particular
traits and foibles
appertained to each.
Us the latest on the scene.
(colleagues since 1989),
others neighbours,
or met when children born,
and earlier ones since Uni.
And I could see
that some of these
could be friends with me
but others – no,
not ever!
Tuesday, 29 March 2011
29/03 conversation with a good friend
Colleagues many years ago
trust and liking,
her support when things went bad
and an Irish holiday
Years before we let out spouses meet
in case they spoilt things ...
tonight we talked of a wedding,
and our granddaughters.
trust and liking,
her support when things went bad
and an Irish holiday
Years before we let out spouses meet
in case they spoilt things ...
tonight we talked of a wedding,
and our granddaughters.
Wednesday, 9 March 2011
9/3 - future travelling
Several warming reminders today of the forthcoming House of Writers gathering in North Carolina: a comment on the subject of Utopia by Mike Handley - he and his wife Gita have very kindly offered to let me stay with them for a couple of days before the event so that I can recover from jet lag, an experience which which more than double the enjoyment both before and after the event; a Facebook comment on the subject of friendship from Michael B, and other 6S posts from the many others who will be there ... July can't come quick enough.
Wednesday, 2 February 2011
second of twenty-eight
Newest real-time friend;
new slant now she retired.
Promise of yet more good lunches
talking books and paintings
(and although I'd describe the day as a sort of soft grey, dormouse-like brown that should not be taken to imply dullness)
new slant now she retired.
Promise of yet more good lunches
talking books and paintings
(and although I'd describe the day as a sort of soft grey, dormouse-like brown that should not be taken to imply dullness)
Tuesday, 25 January 2011
aros 25 - friendly support
I'm a stay at home sort of person but on Sunday the friendliness of several strangers, with whom I shared an interest in place, made me feel I should get out more.
Today an email from a friend who I had assumed had decided to relegate me to the back burner of what must be her pretty impressive group of like-minded friends. Instead she confessed that she has become shamefacedly stay-at-home, and looks to me, as 'one of the movers and shakers', to perhaps rescue her. We all have things to offer, we just need to believe it.
Today an email from a friend who I had assumed had decided to relegate me to the back burner of what must be her pretty impressive group of like-minded friends. Instead she confessed that she has become shamefacedly stay-at-home, and looks to me, as 'one of the movers and shakers', to perhaps rescue her. We all have things to offer, we just need to believe it.
Tuesday, 20 April 2010
Friendship values
We moved to a small Hertfordshire village, no more than three or four days before the end of the summer term, and to my mother’s surprise my brother and I both begged to be immediately allowed to go to the school which was immediately across the road from our brand new bungalow – I think we feared an entire summer holiday without knowing anyone, or maybe we wanted to get on with our new lives as soon as possible.
There were only three classes and, aged seven, I was sent to the middle one and told to sit at the end of a bench on which sat three girls, across a long trestle table from another four; with one accord they all turned to look at me, with one accord they all said “Cooo – ain’t she ugly!!!” At playtime, I stood alone, ignored and miserable (but pretending not to be) until Brenda came up and said “would you like to play with me?” – a gesture of friendship I never forgot.
She lived at the deepest, roughest reach of the council estate and during the next five weeks I occasionally went to call for her; we played in the street and she was always accompanied by (and responsible for) one, two or three of her seven younger siblings. In the sixth week her mother answered the door “Brenda’s not in” she said, clearly cross and, I sensed, lying, since where else would Brenda be at that time of day so, puzzled, I went home and told my mother “Brenda’s not playing but I don’t know why.”
“Because,” she answered “I told her mother I didn’t want you playing with her – you should be mixing with better people than that.” Admittedly, some ten years later, Brenda was frequently to be found in the pub wearing high heels, a white fur coat and nothing else at all – but I still don’t think my mother was right to interfere.
There were only three classes and, aged seven, I was sent to the middle one and told to sit at the end of a bench on which sat three girls, across a long trestle table from another four; with one accord they all turned to look at me, with one accord they all said “Cooo – ain’t she ugly!!!” At playtime, I stood alone, ignored and miserable (but pretending not to be) until Brenda came up and said “would you like to play with me?” – a gesture of friendship I never forgot.
She lived at the deepest, roughest reach of the council estate and during the next five weeks I occasionally went to call for her; we played in the street and she was always accompanied by (and responsible for) one, two or three of her seven younger siblings. In the sixth week her mother answered the door “Brenda’s not in” she said, clearly cross and, I sensed, lying, since where else would Brenda be at that time of day so, puzzled, I went home and told my mother “Brenda’s not playing but I don’t know why.”
“Because,” she answered “I told her mother I didn’t want you playing with her – you should be mixing with better people than that.” Admittedly, some ten years later, Brenda was frequently to be found in the pub wearing high heels, a white fur coat and nothing else at all – but I still don’t think my mother was right to interfere.
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