Wednesday, April 22, 2009

The mother of colds has gone – rather quickly, as it happens, considering how dramatic and volatile it was. In its wake, spectacularly aching muscles, but what does one expect? Things are as they are and I would perhaps say more were it not that Digi has said it all in her excellent post where she gives her take on what “recovery” might mean. We live as we are able and in this way it becomes possible to seize the day.

I met with two of my local writing friends today, to unblank the pages with our words. We have done this every week for many years now and it has become an extraordinarily precious (in the good sense) activity. I have lifted out poems from what I have written in these sessions. But quite often the words are shared only between the three of us, and it is good – intensely so. In honour of the birthday of one, I made rock cakes. The name does not do them justice as they melt in the mouth. Alongside, a pot of very strong coffee (half real, half decaf). I take my pleasures seriously.

A flurry of phonecalls from Daughter of Signs, as she has been flat-searching and found a place in Dalston going (relatively) cheap because, according to the agent, “no-one has any money now” – though it still costs a tidy sum. The upshot is that she will be moving there in May. It will be her first time living alone, but she will be near friends and she will have her piano, which is her constant companion these days as she is writing a musical.

I have just sneezed again. Time for a bath in Weleda pine bath milk, and some collected poems by Marina Tsvetayeva. Mr. Signs is watching The Apprentice. I think Sir Alan will have to do without my company tonight.


Digitalesse said...

So glad to hear that your cold is on the wane. Hope you are picking up a bit now.

These word-y get-togethers seem like a great idea. It really does help to share an interest and meet with like-minded others. So much of living with this illness is about learning to cope with enforced isolation, but no matter how self-reliant we are, we still miss out on the cross fertilisation of ideas and the positive influences and inspiration of our peers.

Reading the Signs said...

Digi, writing is by its nature a solitary activity - but one of my things has been to discover and try out ways in which it can also be used as a group/community-making activity. Completely at odds with this illness. But the weekly meetings have continued through good times and bad.

nmj said...

hey signs, you have had a miracle cure, woman! how did you do this? please send me your magic potion - i am still coughing but not so badly... the matapa is on the stove as i type, i added almonds too just to jazz things up, i am excited!

just to add to dig - it is always good to see other people, whether artistically or socially - the enforced isolation can stimes be overwhelming, though for writing it is essential, not that i am actually doing much in the way of writing at moment.

Reading the Signs said...

NMJ, cutting straight to the Matapa - don't leave it unattended too long otherwise the bottom tends to start burning. Sending thoughtwaves to make sure you go and check it now!

I can't account for how the cold went so quickly, it was quite explosive (perhaps the amount of chilli in Matapa helped). Unfortunately it has left Symptoms in its wake.

nmj said...

It was good, Signs, maybe overly rich, I will get better as I practice (& I did have to rescue from burning).

Gael said...

Here's sto speedy recoveries!
I'm going to Dalston to do some research at a film archive this week. I'd never even heard of the place until very recently. I hope Signs fille will be very happy there.

Kahless said...

I feel you are teasing me again as I can read your words and smell and almost taste your baking.

Rock cakes that melt in your mouth...yummy!

ps I am a closet Apprentice fan!

Reading the Signs said...

Gael, the funny thing is we nearly moved there when I was pregnant with D of S, but it fell through at the last minute and we ended up in another part of Hackney.

Kahless, so am I - ssshh