Head for the Hills

Yesterday the water temperature at Gaddings Dam was 15.4C - a veritable hot tub! - so that's where we're headed this afternoon to kick off the open water swimming season in these parts. 

I got a new wetsuit when TriCentral had a clearance sale a few weeks ago, it will have its inaugural dip today - may God bless her and all who swim in her!

Important Disclaimer: This is the wetsuit but this is not me...

Egg Hunt

Looking around for an egg-themed poem, I've just happened across Elizabeth Spires whose work I've not read before. Her poems are powerful and leave me wanting more.....which is nice.....! 

Here's her poem Faberge's Egg.  

I've also found out about Faberge eggs which I didn't know much about till today. So that's my little Easter egg to me, courtesy of the internet. 

Now I'm off to make an omelette for breakfast. 

It's A Dog's Life.....

Five weeks post-op and Dash had his first swimming lesson at Soozoo on Monday. 

He started with a shower and was buckled into a life jacket, then up the ramp and down another into the water. 

He was nervous about the new experience but thanks to the reassuring manner of the trainers he was soon swimming around the pool and chasing toys which made the activity fun for him as well as being just what the doctor ordered. 

Since his wound healed he's only been allowed to have 5-minute walks once or twice a day. No exercise off-lead until July, a gradual build-up until then. Even going into the garden has to be supervised as a sudden twist or turn chasing a cat or squirrel could destabilise the repair and make another operation necessary. 

Swimming takes all pressure off the joint and apparently a minute in the pool is the equivalent of a mile walking! So after 30 minutes he was well and truly ready for a cup of bovril and a packet of crisps. 

Just joking...a quick shampoo, a bit of a blow-dry then into the boot and home. Mmmm.....that lovely smell of damp dog.....

Swimming and Sorrow

What to Do with Sorrow
Can I sing a short song to your sorrow?
I'll choose something with absolutely no sentiment
or, if you prefer, I'll just hum, or, I could tap
my fingers on the table in a light, lively rhythm
or, I could do just the middle-eight part of a folk song,
or something else bland. Really, a song might be nice.
Could I get it a coke, or a Ben and Jerry cone
or a cup of coffee or some taco chips?
Maybe just some water with ice?


I could take your sorrow out somewhere.
Maybe I could take it on a road trip with me,
if I could get a crash helmet to fit it.
I'd take it to the mountains on the back of my bike
and we could go camping, just for the weekend.
I've got a tent and we could drink cocoa
from tin mugs and tell each other stories,
really sad ones, by the campfire late at night.
I think your sorrow might like it a lot.
Sleeping in a tent and looking out through a flap
at the stars. Maybe even seeing a shooting star.
And I've got some of those self-inflating sleeping mats
which make all the difference. They really do.


Maybe I could take your sorrow out this afternoon.
I could take it swimming with me in the lake.
We could go on the bus so you wouldn't even need to drive us.
I could take my day pack with apples and soda and rope.
We could sun for a while and then make our way over the rocks
to the sandy part where we could splash near the shore.
Then we'd move out together and begin to swim laps.
Breast stroke and crawl, side stroke and back stroke,
and then go further out to the middle where the water's deep
and we'd smell the water while we swam.


Do you remember how the water smells?
a bit like mud and a bit like dying reeds
and plants and a bit like fallen petals of water lilies.
It smells like turtles and fish and water snakes
and bottoms of row boats and the wet wood of canoes
and it smells like the bugs that skate on it
and like everything that's rotting on the bottom.
You remember how the water smells.
Don't worry about us at all.
Your sorrow will be safe with me.
I don't think we'll be back early.
Go ahead and eat without us.


Linda Chase 
from The Wedding Spy (Carcanet, 2001)

Go Well Linda And Adieu

A poetry friend emailed me this afternoon to tell me that Linda Chase died this morning. 

I've made a couple of false starts to write about her, but it's obviously not the right time, I just feel too sad. I've found her such an inspiration in the time I've known her, she will be missed by so many people.

Crock of Poetry Gold

My copy of the latest - new look - Mslexia hasn't arrived yet, but I see from the Mslexia website that the poetry competition's been announced and Jo Shapcott's the judge. The cash first prize is now £2000. £7 entry fee lets you enter 3 poems. Closing date - 18 July. 

Good luck girls!

A Poem A Day

Better late than never. Just the challenge I need, and I can always carry on into May if I need to make up for a late start. Click on the logo to get to the website.

Dog Paddle

Back in Whitley Bay for the weekend. Last time we were here, Dash had his escapade on the prom. We thought we'd escaped relatively lightly - he had to have four small teeth removed - but no bones broken. 
However, at a follow-up check at the vet's a week later, the limp he'd developed indicated damage to the cruciate ligament in his back leg and required an operation. 
Three weeks ago the ruptured ligament was removed and replaced by a band to stabilise the joint, as the tissue around it heals. The bad news is that he'll be unable to have proper walks until July. He can walk 100 yards five or six times a day, but he has to be on a lead in case he makes any sudden movements which could twist the joint. Building up the exercise will happen very slowly. Already this walkless regime is agony for us all.
Then suddenly I thought about hydrotherapy - if racehorses can have it, why not dogs? It would give him an outlet for his energy and at the same time help him to exercise without  causing damage to the healing joint. The vet has confirmed canine hydrotherapy is a good idea and if we want he can start in a couple of weeks. 
I'm looking into the possibilities on offer near us and who knows - maybe he'll get a taste for it and join us on the Great North Swim! Or turn into a mer-dog like these guys

 

School's Out

Tuesday was my last Poetry School class with John McAuliffe, I can't believe ten weeks have flown by so quickly. This has been my most productive class to date, I've written a poem a week and received excellent feedback from John who's such a generous tutor. His comments have been really constructive and encouraging, his experience as an editor invaluable. I've redrafted four of the poems and got them ready to send off to Poetry London, so we'll see what Colette Bryce makes of them...

and now I feel quite bereft, what will I write about this week?...in Tuesday's class we looked at poems with a driving theme including one of my favourites, Seamus Heaney's Postscript. Somehow without the deadline of Tuesday's class I seem to have lost my mojo...maybe I just need a little rest and then get back in the saddle...

Aftermath of Moon Hype

Beautiful but not spectacular.
Maybe I need a new camera. Anyway it gave the boys an excuse to how - oooool.

Lunar Perigee

Tonight's full moon is going to be spectacular, it'll be closer to us on earth than it's been for 18 years. It should provide a chance for us to try out that trick which I wrote about last year.

By chance I found this poem - Facts About The Moon - by Dorianne Laux when I was reading the How A Poem Happens blog this morning. Serendipity, no?!

Saturday Morning Film Review

If you get the chance to see Norwegian Wood - DON'T. Instead, buy a poetry book and a bottle of wine to share with your companion. I wish I had.

International Women's Day 2011

It's been a while since I wrote about swimming, so for International Women's Day let's celebrate Gertrude Ederle (1905-2003) first woman to swim the English Channel in 1926.

And here's an atmospheric poem with a sea theme by Marion Lomax

Beyond Men

Through the shrunk boards

water strokes itself:

dives at the end of staves.

Her eyes are out to sea:

she's gardening the waves,

weeding out boats before

they can put down roots.

Off the beach, women

bob like seals in their

round red caps - climb out,

and dance with strangers.

Under the pier, where

the sea has slipped back,

the wet sand is coldest.

It sucks her shoulders,

makes her shiver.

Arms, legs, breasts, slip

under: she struggles

out of the strong embrace.

Sleek, salt tongues of weed

lick neck and nipples -

waves return her hair,

a tangle of black lace.

Dancers on the pier

drift home to their beds,

refusing late drinks

or a possessive caress.

Tonight the sea's moans

make women yearn

for something beyond

the love of men.

Marion Lomax 

in Sixty Women Poets 

ed. Linda France, Bloodaxe

Law Of The Jungle

Disturbing start to the day as we went to see Animal Kingdom last night and it was the first thing I thought about when I woke up this morning. Someone - I think it was my brother - told me the mark of a good film is if you think of it at least three times the next day. By that criterion, Animal Kingdom is right up there. 

I'm a fan of the novels of the Australian writer Tim Winton - Cloudstreet, Breath, Dirt Music to name but three. He is a genius at describing family dynamics and the dark side of Australia and Australian life. So imagine Winton at his darkest, then subdue the lighting, turn that dimmer switch to its lowest setting. As you adjust your vision, you'll begin to make out the shapes in Animal Kingdom...

We went to see the film at the Cornerhouse in Manchester. If it was an American film it would be in mainstream cinemas, who knows, maybe it will get there. But in the meantime, it is worth seeking out. Prepare yourself for some discomfort as you head out on safari.....