Bridges, Birds and Big Boys Toys

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Two views featuring the same bridge

Last night I started typing, got as far as the corned beef sandwiches and was woken by Julia at 3.30 am. She had woken in the night and noticed that the bed wasn’t as warm or as noisy as usual, and come to look for me. I was asleep in my magnificent office chair. I knew it was a good ideato buy a good one.

I don’t remember feeling tired, I just fell asleep mid-blog. I will continue now, using the lines I had already written.

In the 24 hours prior to the events I have just described, I had written 33 haiku and 9 tanka. It doesn’t sound much but it felt like my head was being crushed. I’d also dealt with several emails, written 1,000 words on Prime Ministers who were shot and done the normal sort of cooking and washing up.

Heron waiting to have a poem written about it

Many of the poems will be deleted, or heavily edited, but the purpose of the quantity is practice and defeating the inner critic. Once you have the material you can carve it into shape, but if you keep telling yourself it is not good enough you never have anything to work with..

The corned beef hash from Sunday became thick vegetable soup for Monday night, and thin soup for Tuesday lunch. The thick soup was accompanied by bread from the bread maker, and the two soups were accompanied by corned beef sandwiches using the rest of the bread and  carefully stretching  the corned beef by keeping it chilled in the fridge and cutting it thinly.

Between falling asleep and being woken by Julia I found I had had an acceptance from overseas. That’s two from last month’s submissions, and it was a good way to start the day. I use the term loosely as, when you use email and have an international reach, every day is a new one somewhere and where it starts and ends is just a constant process of change.

As an example of editorial opinion, the piece I had accepted last night had been rejected just weeks before by another editor. It was, I thought, the weakest of the three I sent out this time, which just goes to show that you never can tell (to quote Chuck Berry).

Flying Scotsman

15 thoughts on “Bridges, Birds and Big Boys Toys”

  1. Pingback: Big News! | quercuscommunity

  2. Lavinia Ross

    Congratulations again! Seems retirement has been good for you, and I look forward to hearing about your continuing acceptances! That heron looks like it deserves a poem by you.

    No, sometimes one really can’t tell what will work and what won’t. 🙂 Wishing you and Julia a beautiful, productive spring season, and lots of local blueberries this summer. 🙂

    Reply ↓
  4. The Belmont Rooster

    I don’t think I could write poetry, but falling asleep in the office chair gives me an idea. I’m still waiting for corned beef to show up at the grocery store here. For some reason, it is a seasonal thing. I hope you are doing well.

    Reply ↓
      1. Lavinia Ross

        With summers getting hotter and drier over here, we have lost two apple trees, both on dwarfing rootstock. I have since read that in times of drought, dwarfing rootstock can cause transpirational stress in a tree. Apples don’t like hot and dry weather, or warmer winters either. Robert Frost wrote a poem about orchards in winter. I may have sent you this one before, forgive me if I have.
        https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44265/good-bye-and-keep-cold

      2. quercuscommunity Post author

        No, never seen that one before. I remember reading about the benefits of growing apples from seeds produced by your own trees – permaculture theory being that it would suit the environment better than a grafted tree. The pictures they showed all looked like they were struggling so it may only work in semi-deserts.

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