Write from the start

I remember a sugar mouse with string for a tail. It was far too pretty to eat!  Now was it white or was it pink?

In the end Mum talked me into eating it. I think she was tired of seeing it lying around gathering dust – or perhaps it was wrapped and the wrapper was dusty, I don’t remember.

I had been given it at school as a reward for a piece of writing I had done. As far as I remember, we had been read a story and asked to write it down from memory. I have only the vaguest recollection of this episode – I was about six years old. As far as I remember it was a story with a happy outcome and the final line was, “What a good thing!”

Aged ten years I persuaded a friend to produce more than one issue (but only a single copy) of a magazine for our school. We raided other publications for nature stories, made up our own puzzles and in those days long before computers did our cutting and pasting with scissors and glue. At that time my favourite subjects were English and nature study.

Somehow English and writing became a means to an end as I learned other subjects at my next school. There was one girl in our class, who excelled at English. I never got the hang of what was required to be a top student in English Language or Literature.

It didn’t prevent me from writing for other subjects and in other situations. Now I write blog posts, book reviews, emails and occasional poems among other things.

The Weekly writing prompt, which I used for this post is here.



From another point of view

I’ve been thinking hard about this writing prompt of Rarasaur’s.  Her prompts have that effect on me.  I have taken part in a number of her prompt for the promptless challenges, writing about concepts I had never heard of previously.  She stretches a blogger’s intellectual muscles.

So whose point of view should I describe myself from?

My maternal grandfather was born in the year of Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee.  He returned from WW1, travelled a few hundred miles from his birthplace in search of work and found someone to marry.  To cut a long story short I was his first grandchild born when his wife was almost seventy years old. (He was a few years younger.)

I did not see him often, because Mum had moved a long way from her childhood home to marry Dad.

Grandad was a man of few words, but with an impish sense of humour.  He had worked hard all his life and was still a keen gardener in his old age.   Mum seemed to value his opinions and remember what he said about me.  She wrote home once a week as they never had a telephone.  No doubt they read about our lives and achievements.

The few comments Grandad made about me indicated that I was a worker – I was helping with a food preparation task about which Mum and I disagree.  I thought I was shelling peas, but Mum’s memory is different.  There is no-one left to consult about this.  Have you noticed how people’s memories can play tricks on them and the same incident is recalled in a completely different way?  She was probably right and we were preparing fruit for home-made wine.

One summer holiday I had a project (involving research and writing) to work on for school.  I took it with me on our week’s visit to these grandparents.  Grandad made a comment, as I was sitting at the table engrossed in my work.  I can’t remember it verbatim, but it indicated that he thought I was in my element.

He enjoyed a game of cards (whist, cribbage or Newmarket) or dominoes, but would never play for money, claiming that took all the pleasure from it.  I suppose he would have been described as the strong silent type.  He did make a few comments about my experimentation with fashion in my teens, notably dangling clip-on earrings.  The one Mum quotes seems wise to us: “It’s no use saying aught!”


Plan B

A number is a digit, a figure, a tool, a quantity, a letter in the language of mathematics.

This is a comment I made some time ago on another blogger’s post.

I saved it with the idea of expanding on it at a later date.  I have already drafted one post today, but I did not want to publish it due to the personal information included in it.  Plan B then (or in this context Plan number 2.)

Numbers are everywhere, prices, indices, weights, volumes, dates, statistics.  If you can count it…

…someone, somewhere probably has.

Numbers dominate social media.  Friends, followers, shares, comments, views, posts, comments all can be and are counted.

But do they count for anything that matters?

It would be a shame to spend time writing a blog post that no-one bothered to read.  Deciding not to publish one is another issue.  But how many readers are required for a post to be successful?

If I write something intended to amuse or entertain, I am delighted if one person is amused or entertained.

There is a book in the Bible which goes by the name, Numbers.  I have read it and all I am going to say about it here is that (in my opinion) the numbers are not the most important thing in the book.

A passage which does not mention numbers, but indicates concepts which cannot be measured is St Paul’s prayer in his letter to the Ephesians 3:14-20

As I have written this at lunchtime I am linking to the Weekly Writing Challenge.