| Random thoughts and ideas Some of this is for my story, some is just reflections on life. | | by: | |
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| Item Size: 106 Entries
Created: 7:58am on 05-22-2006
Modified: 10:16am on 12-31-2009 | |
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I will come here often to add my latest ideas, and see if my story can take shape.A bit like my notebook, but I welcome comments.
I may add the odd rambling diary entry about something I have seen and/or heard. I tend to go a bit George Mikes and/or P G Wodehouse at these times so take everything I write about "life" with a pinch af whimsical salt!
Also here you will find rants erm, essays inspired by prompts or just things that come floating to the top of my mind. It's a very mixed bag, but I hope you will find something to enjoy.
![Merit Badge in Journaling
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Congratulations for participating and completing the [Link To Item #1405205] . May this challenge inspires you to write on! -earl-](http://imgs.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/type-Journaling-2180.gif)
Footnotes
or at least occasionally
 My Blog 
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PROMPT #2: Complete the line with a story of any length or a poem ...
"A reindeer just ate ___________
"A reindeer just ate my hat!"
The petulant cry rose from the frosty courtyard to the warm kitchen, and the speaker followed close behind.
"My hat!" he said again, holding up the tattered remains of a white tassel with a scrap of red material attached. He waved it accusingly in his wife's face, as if he suspected her of secretly cultivating a taste for red velvet in his reindeer. The woman, however, did not so much as look at the sorry remnants of her husband's headgear; instead she simply went on with her knitting, warming her feet against the fire grate and waiting for the kettle to boil.
"Well?" said the man at last, exasperated at his wife's indifference to his plight.
"Well, what, dear?" she answered, carefully counting her stitches as she prepared to start a new row.
"What are you going to do about it?" he almost shouted. "I can't go out without a hat, tonight of all nights!"
"I don't see why not," his wife countered. "It's not as if your ears will get cold, not with all that hair of yours." The man snorted with impatience.
"It's not a matter of cold ears, you stupid woman! It's a matter of appearances. And contractual obligation," he added.
The old woman made a sound that seemed to indicate that were it not wholly unladylike to do so, she would currently be the one snorting with impatience.
"Appearances!" she scoffed. "No-one sees you, you daft old fool; not unless you're getting careless in your old age. So what does it matter about appearances? And as for your contractual obligations," and this time she came very close indeed to a decidedly un-genteel expression of disapproval, "They never paid you a penny. There is no contract, and there never was."
"There was an understanding," retorted her husband, stiffly. "A gentlemen's agreement, which I'll have you know is every bit as binding as a written contract to men of business." He drew himself up with such dignity that he nearly put his back out.
"Careful," his wife said. "You'll put your back out, strutting around like that." She laid aside her knitting and lifted the kettle from the fire. "Tea?"
The old man gruntingly indicated that tea might be acceptable, but should in no way be allowed to divert the topic of conversation. His wife obliged, both with the tea and the talk.
"You're not a man of business, though, are you? You're not a man of any sort. You are, my dear Claus, a quasi-mythical personification of an ancient pagan ritual beneath a thin modern veneer. So your 'gentlemen's agreement' isn't worth the paper it's written on. Consequently," here she paused to let her words sink in. "Consequently," she went on, with the air of a prosecuting council delivering a masterful summation, "It doesn't matter two hoots if your reindeer eat up your hat. They can make a meal of your boots, jacket and belt buckle for all I care."
"My dear!" The old man almost fainted in the face of such blasphemy. "My hat, my suit, everything about me... it's a symbol of peace on earth and goodwill toward men. That outfit represents all that is good and kind and true in this world, all things bright and beautiful, all..."
"Yes, yes, dear, I know. Don't get carried away, you'll bring on one of your turns," interrupted his wife, soothingly. "It's all very well to talk about peace on earth, but you'd be hard put to show me any." She took his arm and sat him down in his own chair by the fire; then she knelt beside him and laid her head in his lap, stroking the plushy velvet of his red trousers.
"You're a fine, beautiful idea, my darling; but we both know it's a lie, all of it. A great, comfortable lie made by men who couldn't bear the truth. The truth may set men free, but freedom is a big, terrifying thing. So are truth, and wisdom, and all the real things of this world. Men long ago knew the true God, and they were afraid of Him. Afraid of His power, of His perfection. So they made us, puppets to stand in the place of God. We have no power beyond what men give us, and so we do not frighten them. But neither can we save them from themselves, from their fear and ignorance." The old woman's eyes filled with tears that soaked into the red trousers. "Only the true God has that sort of power, and they hide from Him behind us like a child hiding behind a teddy bear."
Her husband rested a hand on her hair, and nodded, sadly.
"It would be better for them if we did not exist," he said. "If we, and all those like us, would fade away and force men to see the glory of God. Perhaps, after all, it is a good thing that my hat was eaten. I think that I will not ride out tonight?" He had meant to make a bold statement, but it came out as a trembling question. Blinking away her tears, the old woman lifted her head and looked her husband in the face.
"The choice is not yours to make," she said. "We have no power but that which is given to us by men. You will ride out tonight, you cannot help it. Any more than I could help making this." From behind the seat cushion of her own chair she drew her finished knitting. It was a bright red hat with a white tassel.
Grimly, silently, the old man headed to the door. He pulled the hat onto his head, climbed into the sleigh and flicked the reins. As the reindeer climbed high into the night sky, he set his mouth in a thin, determined line. Surely he could do something? He had to try, at least.
As he soared through the air above the slumbering rooftops, he opened his mouth to cry out, "Fear the true God and give him glory!" But instead, ringing out across the cold night sky he heard his own voice, booming, rich and jolly,
"Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!"
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PROMPT #1: Familiarize yourself with the folk song, THE TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS and blog about it for us.
It's an old favourite, the one we all know. Or sort of know. The one everyone will happily join in with as long as someone else starts it off. Honestly now, who can get past the verse with the 'five go-o-o-o-ld rings' without faltering? As the next verse approaches the mind start racing. Is it the lords a-leaping next, or the maids a-milking? Or perhaps the pipers piping? And don't swans come into it somewhere? Or is it geese? By which time, the whole communal sing-along has descended into embarrassed mumbling, and everyone wishes they'd stuck to "Ten Green Bottles" instead.
It may be comforting to know that even the traditionalists can't agree on the exact order of the verses, with one website even putting a footnote on their version of the lyrics that said: "...the 'lords, ladies, pipers, drummers' are often switched around."
So go ahead and sing the verses in any old order you please. Make up your own verses if you like. As with all these songs for singing around the fire (camp or hearth) the most important thing is to have fun and get everyone to join in. And if people are reluctant to join the chorus just threaten to keep on singing until they give in and sing up.
Oh and, just to put you out of your misery, here are the full twelve days of gifts listed in order (or at least an order). Take a deep breath now...
Twelve lords a-leaping,
Eleven ladies dancing,
Ten pipers piping,
Nine drummers drumming,
Eight maids a-milking,
Seven swans a-swimming,
Six geese a-laying,
Five gold rings,
Four calling birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.
Footnotes
What else would the pipers be doing? Preparing a six-course meal for the Duke of Edinburgh?
http://www.abcog.org/12days.htm Quite an interesting an informative article actually, well worth a visit.
I did. http://www.nanowrimo.org/eng/node/3455240
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...or The Pendulum Effect
After pulling off a fantastic (for me) 3,000+ wordday on Monday I have to report that I have not so much as looked at my novel in three days, much less added an moe words to the story. Why this is I couldn't say but I intend to fix it first thing in the morning.
This sort of behaviour is not unusual for me - a burst of energy followed by a complete meltdown. Even this short post is tiring me out. I'll have to stop now;more tomorrow.
This was typed using an on-screen keyboard, operated by mouse. Not the fastest way to wrie but it works well enough. I hope to be back to typing with all fingers by tomorrow, though. This is so SLOW!!
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Hooray, I have just passed the 10K mark in my NaNovel. Yes, I should be at 25K+ by now but given my rate of progress I'm rather proud of myself. 10,000 words in one story is more than I've ever written for anything, So I am taking some time out to eat tea, watch Doctor Who and feel happy. Then back to the writing...
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"Anyone can do any amount of work, provided it isn't the work he is supposed to be doing at that moment"
-- Robert Benchley
Thirteen days into NaNo and I have a grand total of 5,000 words. Having told myself that this month is for writing and nothing else, I find myself doing almost anything else rather than commit words to the screen. This week alone I have: Done three loads of laundry that I've been putting off; knitted a pair of gloves and started on a matching hat; re-organised my computer files and upgraded my anti-virus software, and given a talk at the Kingdom Hall. I have written less than 1,000 words a day and, given the amount of time left before the end of the month, I will need to triple that output starting today if I hope to finish on time. So, here I sit, at my computer, ready to write and what do I do? I think, "It's been a long time since I updated my blog. I'd better do that first."
Procrastination is an insidious vice. I can think of only one way to get myself writing at full steam again. I'll tell myself that I have to do the washing up, change the sheets on my bed and mop the floors in every room. That's what I should be doing today. And I will, just as soon as I've written a few more chapters...
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Blah, blah, blah.
Had a surprise outing today, a friend rang up about 11 o'clock and said could she come over to see me. Well, company is always welcome, so I said sure. She arrived and proposed a trip to a local tourist attraction, then and there.
We took my manual wheelchair because it is easier to get into people's cars than my big, heavy powered chair. And since we were going to take a trip along the Dudley canal, I figured it was better to leave the electrical goods at home!
The trip itself was brilliant, the tunnels and caverns under Dudley are breathtaking, and the guide was very good. It was a bit of a performance to get me on and off the barge (a hydraulic lift and two members of staff) but once in I was on a level with all the other passengers, so I could see clearly without being in any danger of bumping my head on the roof of the tunnel.
I will write a proper description tomorrow, right now I'm too tired.
Outasync
PS - I've even done some writing! Just a couple of scenes that have been playing in my head for the last few days, but it's better than nothing.
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Thanks to Jasper Fforde for today's blog title.
Yes, it's been a bad week (thank you Punt & Dennis, of BBC radio fame) but I'm finally blogging again. I've completely dropped off the "challenges and competitions" radar, and not written a word for any of my WIPs.
Miff.
**Outasync** (outa time, outa ideas, outa here!)
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Hello. This is a post to say I have nothing to say. I'm sitting up in the silent watches of the night and sleeping through the day. I'm having occasional ideas, but I'm not able to do anything with them yet. At least I've been making notes.
So many notes, so few finished projects. Everything's off centre, confused and totally out of sync with the wider world. If I'm not careful I'll start loosing touch with real life - I've been there a few times and it's not fun. If it gets too bad, I'll ask the doctor about re-starting the meds. The important thing is to be aware of the warning signs and act quickly. After more than twelve years fighting this thing, I'm getting good at spotting the thunder clouds. I can give it another week, I reckon. If things haven't improved by then, I'll make an appointment with my GP.
I'm off to have another try at getting to sleep. It's 3:30 in the morning already, even Frank Sinatra has left the bar and gone home.
Outasync
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Joined www.librarything.com today, and spent a few hours entering every book I own into my profile. Using ISBN numbers, I got this done quite quickly and easily. However, as I was getting towards the end of my stack of books I got a message on screen - "free membership has a limit of 200 titles". I never realised there were more than 200 books in my flat - not counting library books, magazines or newspapers.
If I read one book a day, it would take me more than six months to get through them all. That's something to remember the next time I'm tempted to visit Amazon.co.uk.
I need to maybe read a little less and write a little more.
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I've found my sources for the two Arthurian essays, and I've made some notes. I'm going to list the sources here, because my PC is being a bit buggy, and I don't want to loose my research. Not so much a blog post today as a memo.
Sources
http://www.britannia.com/history/arthur/knights.html
http://www.britannia.com/history/arthur/winchester.html - Winchester = Camelot?
http://www.middle-ages.org.uk/king-arthur-knights-round-table-1.htm
http://www.castles.me.uk/knights-round-table.htm
http://www.castles.me.uk/arthurian-legend.htm
http://www.arthurian-legend.com/
http://www.timelessmyths.com/arthurian/
http://www.ramsdale.org/legend.htm
http://www.timelessmyths.com/arthurian/
http://www.arthuriana.co.uk/
http://www.bbc.co.uk/cumbria/enjoy_cumbria/heritage/arthurian_legend/arthur.shtm...
Who Were The Knights Of The Round Table?
http://www.helium.com/items/new?id=208079-king-arthurs-knights
Research: The names normally associated with the knights, what is known about these names. The origins of Arthurian legend, Arthur in different countries, the knights.
Introduction:
Camelot – famous throughout the English-speaking world. Arthur, much known – real and legendary. But what about his knights? Who were they?
Body:
The most common knights – what is known about them.
Other names on the Winchester Round Table.
Conclusion:
So, who were the knights of the round table? Little may be known about the men whose names live on in song and story, but King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table have never been seen as mere plain historical facts and figures. The legend of Camelot and her champions is our wish for a cleaner past and a brighter future. We all of us want to believe that these ideals once existed, and may come again. Lancelot, Gawain, Bedevere, Percival, Kay, and of course, Arthur himself. Whoever they once were, they live on as heroes and ideals. And perhaps no-one could ask for a better memorial.
Search phrase: Round Table
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The Historical Basis for King Arthur
http://www.helium.com/items/new?id=177542-the-historical-basis-for-king-art...
Research: Arthur in England/Wales/France/other? Dates, earliest and latest: (Sixth century CE) The "Merlin" character - advisor, bard, historian? Other characters, are they historical? (e.g. King of Ireland, Branwen, Pelenor etc.)
Introduction:
Here Lies Arthur, the Once and Future King (give in English and Latin)
The earliest records are several hundred years after Arthur was supposed to have reigned in Camelot over a golden age of chivalry.
Body:
Britain in the sixth century CE – how it was governed, and how it was divided. The role of bards and the power of stories. The lingering belief in pagan powers, and the attempts to incorporate new Christian teachings. Fear of invasion, the need for powerful leaders. Aware that Britain fell to the Romans in part because they could divide and conquer. The need to stand together against the distrust of other warlords, and fear of neglect if the “kingdom” got too large.
Britain when the first “Arthurian legends” began to appear. What had changed? What was the same? Why Arthur? Why pick the 6th century as the setting? Possibly because there really was a great warlord at that time, a convenient real name on which to hang all the fantastic stories that would entertain and inspire people.
Conclusion:
All people dream of a “golden age”, and for Britain that golden age is typified by King Arthur and Camelot.
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In other news, I was given a second chance on getting out of the house today. The snow never arrived, and neither did the sleet. I went to the library and picked up my reservations, then I went to the shops and picked up some food. Thanks to the rescue efforts of my friends over the weekend, I didn't have to get too much. I'll be OK now, unless the snow comes down for another ten days.
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For the space of about twenty-four hours, I thought the snow-go zone around my flat had lifted. It rained steadily all day, and the pavements cleared for as far as I could see. I even stuck my head out of the window to look at the corner where I got stuck on Friday, and it was snowless. Come tomorrow, I thought, I'll be back in the powerchair and motoring along the High Street.
Well, my mother always told me to never put off until tomorrow what could be done today. I could have put on my rain-cape there and then and gone into town. I should have done just that, because once the sun set the rain turned to snow again. Looking out of my window now I see newly-frosted pavements and snow-coated cars. While there's no snow falling right this moment, it will almost certainly snow again before tomorrow morning.
I had my window, my opportunity to escape, and I muffed it. The chair will continue to gather dust and I will continue to discover the true meaning of the phrase "house-bound". Perhaps in my case it should be "flat-bound"? Nah, that makes me sound like self-assembly furniture. "House-bound" it is, unless I can cadge a lift anywhere.
Taxi?
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Within an hour of writing yesterday's post, I got a phone call from friends who live up the road. They said they were going shopping today, and if I sent them a list of what I needed they would pick it up for me. So I didn't need to ask for help, or keep people waiting while I struggled round. All I had to do was text them a shopping list, and wait for delivery!
My friends are fab. I really must find some way of being helpful in return - they all do so much for me, and I don't do anything. I'll see what I can come up with.
TTFN,
Outasync
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I managed to get outside the flat! For about fifteen minutes, anyway. The stretch of pavement I can see from my window is almost completely clear, only tiny patches of ice and snow remaining. However, once I got to my first corner, my first road to cross, I encountered two inches of snow. My wheels sank, and spun uselessly. Fortunately, there was enough traction left to allow me to go backwards onto the snow that had already been compacted under my tyres. I got home in one piece, but without having made it to the library or the shops. Running very low on food now, but the forecast says no snow again for at least 36 hours. With a bit of luck, and sunshine tomorrow, I might be able to get to the high street.
Failing that, I'll have to call upon friends to take me to the market. I don't like doing that, partly because I don't want to burden people, and partly because the market is tiring. Shopping that I could spread out over several days of short trips has to be done all at once, requiring not only physical exersion but also higher-than-average levels of concentration. And I always feel rushed, because if I take my time and dawdle to collect my thoughts, I feel like I'm keeping my lift waiting. However, one must eat; if I'm still house-bound on Sunday I'll call in the cavalry.
I had planned to spead some time in the library this afternoon, doing research for those Helium articles I mentioned. I've already been through my encyclopedias, so now I have to rely on t'interweb. The trouble with that is you have to double-check everything and confirm all sources as reliable. They let any fool post on the web these days, you can't trust anything you read! 
Still, double-checking is what research is all about. And Helium is a good way to get practice as a writer, and possibly even get noticed by the newspapers and magazines circle. You have to have a lot more than two articles in your name before THAT happens, though. So, time to put on my specky specks and get down to some reading.
(I wear specs all the time, actually, but there is something about sitting down to do serious research that makes me want to put on David-Tennent/Peter-Davidson-Doctor-Who style glasses, and a suitably studious expression.)
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I have been a member of Helium http://www.helium.com for some time now, but only contributed two articles so far. Today I went and found a list of topics they wanted articles about, and now I'm going to do what I haven't done since leaving school: I am going to write an essay. Perhaps I should say I am going to essay an essay.
There are several topics, I will lay out my research notes and essay plans in this blog, and include a link to the finished articles when they are published on Helium.
Firstly, two seperate articles I can research as one: The Historical Basis for King Arthur and Who Were the Knights of the Round Table?
I need to find out:
 References to Arthur and/or Arthurian legend in England/Wales/France/other?
 Dates, earliest and latest.
 Was there really a "Merlin" character - an advisor, bard, historian?
What about other characters, are they historical? (e.g. King of Ireland, Branwen, Pelenor etc.)
What names are given for the most famous of King Arthur's knights? Do any of these names have a historical basis?
What is the "descent" of the modern Arthurian legend? Most today work from Malloy, but what were his sources?
Essay structure:
All know of King Arthur and the famous Knights of the Round Table, their stories have been told and retold by everyone from ancient celtic bards to Walt Disney. But who were these men? Did they exist? How did they come to be such legends? And what is the secret of their enduring appeal?
The Knights: Make a list of the most agreed-upon names, deeds and descriptions. A paragraph on each detailing possible historical figures the legend may have come from.
King Arthur: Here, a summary of the longer article "The Historical Basis for King Arthur". He was almost certainly a war-lord, maybe even several war-lords rolled into one by confusion of stories.
Conclusion: Who were the knights of the round table? Little may be known about the men whose names live on in song and story, but King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table have never been seen as mere plain historical facts and figures. The legend of Camelot and her champions is our wish for a cleaner past and a brighter future. We all of us want to believe that these ideals once existed, and may come again. Lancelot, Gawain, Bedevere, Percival, Kay, and of course, Arthur himself. Whoever they once were, they live on as heroes and ideals. And perhaps no-one could ask for a better memorial.
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... but no energy. I will (at some, unspecified future date) write a comparative piece about British and American humour. I've been scouting out other Brits here at WDC while listening to an audiobook of PG Wodehouse, so I'm in full Britain-is-best mood at the moment. I'll try to write a proper entry when I'm feeling a little more objective. British humour clearly is best, but it wouldn't be polite to say so with so many Americans around here. (N.B. This last sentence is an example of British-type humour, or at least my type of humour.) My influences are Spike Milligan, Douglas Adams, Michael Flanders, P G Wodehouse and the Monty Python team. You have been warned...
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This is just to say that I have done nothing today. I slept until almost five o'clock in the evening, it is now midnight and I am tired again already.
Hope to have something to report tomorrow.
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Ironically, I never got that "snowed in" story written. For the past few days I have been not very well, and unable to go out of the house due to ... snow. Yes, it has snowed in England, as it does most years; but this year it has made the national papers because this year it is not a case of snow causing trouble in an obscure corner of the country, like Liverpool or Cornwall or some equally far-distant place. No, this year the snow has hit LONDON. This is serious. This is the capital. If London had to shut down because of snow what would become of the rest of the country? Chaos, disaster and a return to the dark ages!
(Have a look at what Mitch Benn has to say on the subject here: http://www.mitchbenn.com/blog/704/wheres_dennis_quaid_when_you_need_him.html)
Meanwhile, and in spite of the fearful state of our capital city, life goes on in my little flat in the West Midlands. I'm living in just one of my two rooms, sitting close to the heater. The snow is only about three or four inches deep outside my door, but that's enough for my to not want to take the wheelchair outside. I haven't been idle though, (well, no more idle than usual). I have been ploughing through my filing and can now see the floor in a satisfyingly large number of places. While undertaking this labour of Hercules I have been listening to some very beautiful singing, courtesy of "youtube". Type "King's singers" into the search box and enjoy what comes up. I have created a playlist of my personal favourites, starting with the King's Singers and going on to other vocal groups and barbershop quartets I found as related links. You can share it here: http://uk.youtube.com/view_play_list?p=FB8ED77C3EE54690
While you're there, check out this guy: http://uk.youtube.com/user/SpokenVerse.
I neglected to post my comments for the week this Sunday, but actually I haven't commented at all this week. Very remiss of me, I shall do better this week. (I couldn't very well do worse now, could I?)
Maybe I'll actually do some writing too. All things are possible...
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Power chair latest: I've heard from the two different companies, and they have recommended two almost identical chairs for me. The prices are similar, so I now need to think about which one will look after me best as a customer. I'm torn. I liked the sales pitch and the rep from company A best, but I must admit that company B looks better in terms of after-sale service. I didn't like the rep as much, his "salesman" persona was a little too strong. I'm going to phone company A back tomorrow, and ask about their after-sale guarentees. Also, I think that the rep from company A may have misled me about the total cost of the chair, breaking the numbers down to make it seem cheaper than it really is. He didn't explain the interest calculations to me very clearly, and the rep from company B took me through eveything in detail.
I intend to talk to a few friends and get their opinions on both companies. I wanted to see them tonight, but I fell asleep in the afternoon (thanks to a series of bad nights) and woke up too late to go out. Miff. Never mind, I can always phone them.
I haven't written anything today, not even an entry for the Flash Fiction challenge. I had an idea for a story, but missed the deadline. I have until 12 noon tomorrow WDC time (5pm by my clock) to get an entry in for Jan 28. The prompt is to write a story about being snowed in.
300 words in 16 hours? Just about possible, I think.
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OK, so my muscles don't ache (much) but my brain appears to have stopped working. Never a good thing, and especially not good right now. At least the wheelchair salesman didn't try any of that "decide today" pressure rubbish. He was very nice, very helpful and informative. I therefore intend to double-check everything he told me. I'm cynical and suspicious but this is a very important decision for me. Better to do some checking up and find I was just being paranoid, than to take everything on trust and get swindled. Again.
Got the second rep. coming in eight hours. Really ought to get some sleep between then and now. Which kinda means going to bed. That's the idea - stop writing, stop reading, stop everything and get some sleep. NOW!
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I'm doing it again! It's a quarter past twelve in the middle of the night and I'm still awake and online.
Had a very lazy day today, lots of resting and mooching about the flat doing nothing. Probably a good thing, as I have got visitors tomorrow and Wednesday. Got to be all bright eyed and bushy tailed, these visitors are coming to sell me a new wheelchair. Got to be alert and make the right decision. So, really ought to go to bed now. Yeah.
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