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A journal of random thoughts and random lines of poetry. |
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About This Blog
A journal of random thoughts and bits of poetry with nowhere to go. Read, write, like, talk. About Me I'm Ren, living in Wales with my wife and kid. We have five cats, six chickens. Writing poetry, trying to finish a novel, working for a Domestic Abuse charity. I have a website @ Ren Williams  and a blog @ queerlittlefamily.co.uk Posts About My Life Invalid Entry Invalid Entry Invalid Entry Invalid Entry Invalid Entry Invalid Entry |
| Quite a few women have had an impact on my life. Both good and bad. My mother My mum is not one of those flawless individuals you read about who overcame adversity to become perfect mothers. She made mistakes, lots of them. But she did have a hard start in life. Mum ran off when she was six, dad was an alcoholic and gambler, beaten by her step mum, lived in a two-bedroom flat with her dad, step-mum and six siblings. Working at 15 to support everyone. Married at 17. Has ten siblings in total. Worked three jobs after she and my dad split up to support us. One sister has schizophrenia, one brother was a heroin addict (died at 40), another died of cancer a couple of years ago. One kid has severe mental health problems and tried to kill themselves multiple times (me), other kid had a baby at 17. Will fight for you, will threaten people for you. May actually follow through with those threats (she's in her sixties so I'm not sure). Took in two of her siblings (13 and 14) when she and my dad got their own home until my little sister was born). Stood by my uncle until his overdose while he was in and out of prison even though most everyone else had stepped back (understandably so). Supported her sister through her treatments for schizophrenia as she tried to find something that worked. Has made mistakes. Let us spend time with dad despite him being an alcoholic. Struggled with the concept of my depression for a long time because her childhood has been so much worse than mine and she was fine (debatable). I struggled with that invalidation for a long time. My Wife My wife is very much the opposite and a much more calming influence. A middle-class upbringing, with her own issues stemming from weird parenting. She is stronger than she realises and a steady presence in my life. She is good all the way through, layers and layers of good. Much like her paternal grandmother who just passed away. No one has a bad word to say about either of them and I know she's grieving more than she's letting on right now. She has made mistakes, everyone has, mostly little things. She doesn't look after herself well enough but she has me for that. We look after each other and our kid. Prompt from "Blogging Circle of Friends " ________ - Ren ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** 'There's no money in poetry, but there's no poetry in money, either.' - Robert Graves |
| I don't really have much furniture that's important. I have a few things that my mother has given me - glassware, the quilt she made me when I left home at 18, the blanket we tie-dyed together at 14, the quilt she gave me when I moved back to Wales after being away for nearly a decade. Those items are very important to me. My wife has some crockery - mostly vegetable pots. Recently my father in law restored his old cow milking stool for my son. He had my brother-in-law's girlfriend paint his name on it then brought it over in pieces in his luggage when they came to visit and put it together when he arrived. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** At the weekend we also redecorated our coffee table. It was full of lego before the drawers broke, and I so I decided to turn it into a carpark. We plan to add to it over the next couple of weeks but he already loves it. It took all day and I have sun rashes (not sunburn, but I'm allergic to the heat/sun to varying degrees) but it was a sunday well spent. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| 9,584 Words Finished 14 Poems - some posted here - "Poetry 2019" Blog Post - Nursery Fears on QLF Star Trek Voyager Fanfic - Janeway/Torres - Patreon Only til the 6th. Flash Fiction - "Invalid Item" Unfinished Blog Post for QLF Penna and Bailey Novel April hasn't been a great month again - for writing or personally, though I wrote more than March (about 3k more). I made good headway on my novel - I think I know where I'm going with the next bit, I'm having some connection problems though. I wrote some good poems (and some shit ones) and wrote a pairing I've never written before - Janeway/Torres. I am way behind on my total word count for the year though, by about 15k words but I'm not going to worry too much about catching up until I know my writing head is back in place. Next month I want to finish two fics I've been writing and go back to my Queer lady in the lake story. Plus I signed up for a Dragon Age femslash fic exchange and I got my assignments through for that. I am hopeful. Despite everything I always start the month hopeful. |
| "Blogging Circle of Friends " prompt: If you give people light, they will find their own way. ~ Dante Alighieri What do you think? The problem with this idea is that it's fine to give people light but if you don't show them how to use it, they'll still be wandering in the dark. And that doesn't even consider the people who waste their light, throw it away, just don't care. I haven't had many chances in life. The ones I've had were always burdened with problems. Sometimes the light comes late. Too late. My uncle died not long after finding his own. But I've seen so many people waste their chances, their lives and their light. My dad being one of them. It's a nice idea, but full of holes, and just makes me sad. I'm lucky though. My life is full of light. |
| "Blogging Circle of Friends " prompt - It's a new month, what goals have you set for yourself? Writing contests? Deadlines? I've submitted some poetry to one anthology and I want to submit some more to another. I kinda want to see if I can cut down my story "Invalid Item" to hit the word count for it too. We'll see.My word count for Feb was 15,608 words. Less than my target but I was way ahead in January, so I'm doing okay. In March my target is 17,000 words again. Each month I aim to write two fanfictions, two blog posts and as much original fiction as I can manage. That is something I am managing. This month I wrote:- Escaping Reality – An urban fairy fic – Rachel is stuck in a deadend job when she reconnects with a childhood friend. Part one is already up on my Patreon. Twitter Hashtags for LGBTQIA+ Writers – on my new blog (cause I need more things to work on). The Talk – Dragon Age Fanfiction – Isabela/Bethany – Rated Adult. Endurance – Dragon Age Fanfiction for the Purimgifts Exchange. Pyre – Urban Fairy Flash Fiction for the Purimgifts Exchange. In Which – a poem for LGBTQ History Month. Two unfinished fanfictions. Started a new WIP – Queer Lady in the lake story. Non-writing goals. Start driving lessons. My wife is looking into getting us an instructor, so we'll see if I can start this month or next. Hopefully this month. I started the first day of my permanent contract at work today. Hopefully, I will start feeling like I belong there soon. It's hard when you're coming off from being an agency worker. Anyway, those are some goals for month. |
| Sundays are an odd day. I sleep in on Sundays. Do very little. Eat very little. End up falling to sleep around six. How does that even make sense? Today I've done a bunch of stuff in the garden. Raking and sorting the compost bin out - including placing gravel around the bottom to stop mice and rats digging in. Re-hanging the curtains. Getting rid of plant with a virus. Letting the cats run around in the garden. Actual things. So being half asleep right now makes sense. Especially considering how little I've had to eat today (egg and beans, chocolate biscuits). I've stayed awake cause dinner is almost ready and I'll feel a little more awake when I've eaten. I used to hate Sundays. Dread them because I'd have to go back to school. And then that lasted right through to an adult even when I worked Sundays. Even when I didn't work. now it's settled down, that Sunday dread and depression but they're still a little odd. The boy is here - my nephew - we're watching a murder mystery. It's comforting even if Sunday's aren't. |
| Do you ever talk out loud to yourself? What do you say? Why do you think you do this? I talk to myself all the time. I have since I was a kid. My dad used to tell me that talking to yourself was a sign of madness. The second sign was hairs on the palms of your hands. The third sign was looking for them. Fell for it very time. I tell people I talk to myself because it's easier. And that I get better answers that way. I get more done when I talk to myself. I like talking to myself sometimes. I tend to count out loud because I find it easier to count that way - same with sums and the alphabet. I definitely have to recite the alphabet to myself if I need to remember anything. I tend to berate myself out loud. I don't mean swearing to myself - I tend to tell myself off out loud when I mess up the little things. When I mess up the big things there tends to be more messy than that as my wife can attest too. Mostly I talk to the cats at home. They talk back too sometimes. And they talk to themselves as well. For the first few weeks when we got Reb Brown he just miowed over and over and over. At first we thought he wanted to get back out of the house and he probably did. But now it's been almost a year since we took him in and every night he still calls out, walking around the house after we go to bed and just talking to himself. We thought he was looking for us but when we call out to him he ignores us and just carries on. We thought he was looking for one of the other cats – Pogo at first, and later the kitten but no, he just carries on. He talks to himself more than anyone else I know. "Welcome To My Reality Forum" Week 70 Prompt 4 |
| Are you a designated organ donor? Why or why not? I do not need my organs. Okay, so I need them right now but when I die, I won't need them. There is no part of me that is necessary for my well being as a dead person. My physical body has nothing to do with my soul or spirit or whatever it is that makes me who I am. Not even my brain. The idea that people are dying because they need something that's just rotting away next to some church or have been turned into ash and ruin. My father is donating his brain to science. He has Parkinsons, and they have something called a Brain Bank. It sounds a little grim in a way but it's a very valuable research tool. They take tissue from people suffering with the disease for researchers all over the UK and all around the world to work with and hopefully one day, find a cure for this horrible disease. It's absolutely fascinating. My dad also suffers from Epilepsy, which has made treating his Parkinsons a little difficult and I think there would be some interest in researching the connection between the two. Well, my dad thinks so. My boss's dad is suffering from Parkinson's too. He's had the disease a lot longer than my dad, around a decade - and basically when she talks about it I am looking at my dad's future. It's not good. He is fully aware of this. He raises money for Parkinson's - almost £3000 last year alone (and by alone I mean he did it himself). And then, when he can't raise any more money, and he dies, he will give them his brain. And when I die, I'll probably give them my brain too. I might see if I can talk other people into it too. They need 'control' brains as well as brains from people suffering with Parkinsons and perhaps the daughter of someone would be of interest. That's many years off yet. But as well as my brain to science, any of my other organs are up for grab too. Then you can burn the rest in some sort of funeral pyre and get drunk. My family are horribly practical about these sorts of things. My dad wants to be buried under his local pub (it would be funnier if he weren't an alcoholic), my mum doesn't care and wants a cardboard box and would rather not have a funeral at all (though, who does want a funeral?). But we will all donate. And I'm always a little confused and horrified by people who won't. But, your body, do what you like. Parkinson's Brain Bank - http://www.parkinsons.org.uk/content/parkinsons-uk-brain-bank "Welcome To My Reality Forum" Week 70 Prompt 2 |
| This week in writing challenges (man April is a busy week) comes this: NaPoWriMo "Invalid Item" "Invalid Item" "Invalid Item" "Invalid Item" "Invalid Item" "Invalid Item" "Invalid Item" "Invalid Item" The A to Z Blogging Challenge over @ weird and important F is for Forks G is for Gambling H is for Hypocrites I is for Immigration J is for Jerk ________ - Rhi ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** 'There's no money in poetry, but there's no poetry in money, either.' - Robert Graves |
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But, I know what you meant.
So hard when your kids are sick, eh?