Finding out you're a social writer

I've realised that I'm perhaps a rare breed - I'm a social writer. 

That doesn't mean I like to write in a roomful of people. I still have to be alone pretty much of the time, scribbling in notebooks or tapping away on the laptop to actually get words and ideas down and work out what's going to happen to Tilda while she's in Nargan (Book number 4 of the series - making slow but steady progress). 

What it does mean - for me at any rate - is that actually, I think what I enjoy most about calling myself a writer is having the opportunity to talk about writing and books and helping people with their writing, based on my own experiences. 

Now, as we all know, the coronavirus restrictions have prevented much of that kind of opportunity from happening; it affects the everyday, not just writing. I haven't been into the school library to talk books with students since last March, haven't been into any schools to do a creative writing day, and I miss my little writing group with all the different prompts we used to challenge ourselves with. 

There have been moments of interaction of course - the virtual zoom launch for Tilda and the Mines of Pergatt, for example. Dropping off signed copies of the paperback to local readers or the Post Office for another. But on the whole, my motivation to write, on my own and within my own four walls because there are simply no other options for venue in a covid-riddled world, simply isn't as strong when I don't have the opportunities to interact with other writers and readers. 

It's made me wonder what I like more - writing stories, or meeting the people who read what I've written or who I might be able to help? 

Thing is, I wouldn't have one without the other, would I? 

So on that note, I'd best get back to Tilda. I left her in a coach, on the way to Nargan... 

Now where did I put my pen?

And so it ends... So long, 2020.

 2020.

The year no-one expected. The year where the only certainty was uncertainty. 

We've been fortunate, Chez Squidge. Of course life has been different. We've had disappointments over scuppered plans, had to attend funerals online, adapted to restrictions on everyday life like everyone else. Our situation could have been much, much worse.

And because of that, at times, we've felt guilty. Sitting at home while others went out to work in keyworker roles didn't feel...enough...to help make things any better. 

I took to posting (almost) daily positives on facebook - forcing myself at times to look for something good to set against the relentless doom-mongering of the press, the conspiracy theorists, the ill-informed naysayers... 

I discovered Pet Portraits by Hercule; Foil, Arms and Hog's sketches; binged on Battleship Galactica and Bridgerton.

My street developed a stronger sense of community as we all made sure everyone was OK, had a street party for VE Day, put up Advent windows, and sang carols.

We discovered the joy of growing food, watching the birds, spending time without rushing from one  thing to another because we were forced to stop and take stock.

I knitted socks. Over thirty pairs of them. And taught someone else to knit them too. I also knitted 45 stars to hang on my fence in the run up to Christmas for people to take - and they did.

I wrote a creative writing book, launched the second of Tilda's adventures and finished writing her third. I helped to edit a friend's anthology of short stories. 

There's other stuff too - like a short holiday to Wales in October, family homemade pizza Fridays, making musical pipes... 

In one way, there's life BC and there's life AC. But we haven't got to the AC yet. We're in a strange period of inbetween-ness, where the virus is still here, still impacting dreadfully on life, and we're not yet seeing the benefit of the vaccines (which are nothing short of miraculous, given the time scale in which they've been developed) although my dad has had the call to get his next week...

2021 is fast approaching. There'll be no resolutions from me, only the steely determination to get through this awfulness by being kind to myself so that I can reach a point where I can hug my parents and distant family members again, and life returns to something approaching what it used to be.

I don't know what kind of 2020 you had. I hope that you got through it, whatever it threw at you, and that you're able to face the new year with at least some hope in your heart, and raise a glass tonight to better times. 

Coronasocks - the sequel

 I knitted a lot of socks in the early days of the lockdown. It was the only thing keeping me busy when my brain felt like it was in turmoil from all the strangeness of those early days.

Over the summer, I gave them a rest - partly because I have so many socks of my own, I couldn't justify knitting myself more.

But of course, the nights are drawing in. The weather is getting colder, and coronavirus is rearing its head again as England prepares to move into a new, national lockdown for a month, possibly longer. 

Seems like a perfect time to start knitting socks again, actually.

This time, they are for other people. 

I bought the wool (lots of it!) and have a variety of sizes to knit for - from a size 1 to an adult size 12! Most are bigger than what I knit for myself, so they're taking longer, but I'm OK with that. Two pairs have already gone to my mum, and two pairs are ready to be posted. 

I've also given a sock-knitting lesson to a neighbour - she picked it up really quickly (most people struggle to start with when they're trying to handle four pins at a time) so I'm looking forward to seeing how her socks turn out. 

I also seem to have set Squidgeling J off on sock knitting too, although she's found a rather novel way of knitting two socks at the same time on a magic loop, combined with a much more technical approach to making her socks fit perfectly, which takes away all the guesswork. She might have to give me lessons the next time she's home. Assuming of course, that's possible with the new lockdown.  

Great, eh? 

Only problem now, as we head into November, is that I've now lost count of how many pairs of coronasocks I've knitted to date! I haven't been taking pictures of them all, so I think - THINK - that I'm currently on my 23rd pair!!! I have one more gorgeous colourway to knit for myself at some point, but that will have to wait as I still have about four pairs to knit for other people first.

At least it'll keep me busy...

That sinking feeling...

I was in two minds about posting this, because it deals with a rough time recently which resulted in a few issues around the publication of Tilda and the Mines of Pergatt. 

However, I decided to go ahead and share this with you because it's another pointer towards how hard writing and publication can be when you're not completely focused. I have to say that I'm really thankful for the support of the team at Bedazzled Ink in this, which made it possible to still meet the intended publication day; they cover pretty much every aspect of the publication process themselves, and I didn't make their job easy with this particular novel!

So what happened?

In January, I received the edit from Bink. I worked through that OK and sent it back a few days later for the typeset to be prepped. Bink also worked on the cover design (which I LOVE!) and the blurb, so although there was radio silence for a while, I knew cogs were turning furiously behind the scenes.

Then - COVID. The world went a bit mad, and my head wasn't good with the weirdness of everything. I fought the panic attacks of my first post-lockdown shopping trips, stayed at home, and kept on editing Tilda #3 while I waited for the typeset of Tilda #2. 

We settled a bit more into the new 'normal' and got to May 8th...when my father-in-law died. (Thought to be Covid related, but not confirmed).

Things got a bit blurry after that, as you can imagine. And in the middle of that particular cloud of grief, the typeset arrived. I worked my way through it, using it as a distraction, and sent it back on the 20th.

But something was niggling at me. There were a couple of places in the novel where I felt I'd not explained things properly or there was a lack of consistency with the first book. On the 22nd, I emailed Bink to say that, as much as it pained me to say it - we were at the typeset stage, for Power's sake! - I didn't think the book was ready to be published. Could they give me a bit more time to address the issues?

Bink might well have had a facepalm moment in the office, but they never hesitated; I was given a week. 

In hindsight, I realise I was not in a good place mentally - haven't been for a while - and probably should have given the edit much more time. The Black Dog that people talk about had actually been loping alongside me at a distance since well before January; since lockdown he's been an awful lot closer at times, and I finally recognised him for what he was. I'm still up-and-down a bit, but on the down days, I allow myself the time I need to do something that doesn't involve concentration...

Back to the book. 28th May saw my typeset notes returned to Bink. A day later there was a revamped typeset back with me for final read through and I still found things to change! Mainly cos I'd missed them before, but also as a result of the changes I'd asked for previously. (I wonder if there is a record of how many times something's been read and changed and faults are still being picked up?) 

Either way, on the 1st June, Tilda and the Mines of Pergatt was published digitally - hooray! Paperbacks would follow! All done!

Not quite. June 9th, I had a surprise delivery; I videoed myself opening the box!

And then, as I began to take photos to post on the Scribbles, my heart sank. I realised there was a typo on the spines... The title was Tilda and the Merjan. Talk about being in the clouds one minute, and dashed to earth the next. My first reaction was, what would readers think if they'd ordered books already and they arrived with a duff spine title? 

But within 24 hours, and even considering the time difference between us, Bink were on it, had made the changes, sent the cover flat to me to double check it, and the new cover version was on its way to the printers. 

If you do receive a copy with the wrong title though, hang onto it - I'm reliably informed by Bink that some book collectors pay good money for copies that have mistakes on them. So when I'm rich and famous, you might be able to cash in! I have forty of them myself...they will either have a corrected 'patch' added to the spine, or be sold as is - both cheaper than a 'proper' copy - at some point in the future...

It's all been a bit mad, but we've come through and out of the other side and I'm still smiling. 

At least I've learnt to recognise the Black Dog so I can take steps to keep him at a distance in future - or not tackle important stuff when he's trotting at my side.

Happy Publication Day to Tilda and the Mines of Pergatt!

Tilda's back, and her second adventure 

is here for you to enjoy. 

Available now from Bedazzled Ink, Amazon, and probably bookshops - but in light of the lockdown and effects on businesses from the Covid crisis, your best bet is probably to buy a digital version if you can't wait for a paperback! 

Do let me know what you think of the story when you've read it... I'm working on Tilda 3, so hopefully you won't have too long to wait for her next adventure. 

Tilda's Going Underground!

Now here's something a bit different! In this time of lockdown, I've created a little video to get you thinking about Tilda and the Mines of Pergatt. 

I was in my garden room at the time, so you might hear a blackbird in the background (he sits in the nearby pear tree to sing to me!) or distant neighbours' children in their gardens.

If you like it, who knows, I might be tempted to read you the first chapter of the new book before it's published! 

Coming out the other side of covid-19

So after almost 8 weeks of lockdown, the UK is beginning to open up.

There are very different views on this, as you might imagine. Some want things to happen quicker, to get the economy going again. Others are saying it's happening too fast, considering how many people have already died and combined with the fact that the all-important R rate is so close to 1, it will take very little to allow the virus to take hold again.

My own personal view is that as a country, we should have acted firmer, quicker. We should have continued testing and tracing in the early stages. We should have taken notice of predictions years ago that a pandemic was bound to happen sooner or later, and we should have been better prepared for it when it came.

However, hindsight's a wonderful thing.

Suffice to say that Family Squidge are very much still staying at home at the moment to see what happens in three weeks time... We have been bereaved once because of Covid-19, and we don't wish to experience any more losses.

So how are we coping?

We've settled into a routine of slow starts and late nights. As the Squidgelings continue to complete uni assignments and revise for exams, we tend to do our own separate things during the day and come together every evening for dinner. The highlight of the week is pizza night - often on a Friday - when Mr Squidge makes the dough and we all choose our own toppings. It's better than any takeaway!

I'm still posting daily positives on facebook so that even on the toughest of days - when I have no motivation or feel I've not achieved anything - I can look on the day and find something good. There's only been one day when I really couldn't find anything positive, and in posting that very fact I found it; the kindness and care of friends.

I'm still struggling to write. This is partly due to increased interruptions from the family, but mainly because I can't seem to concentrate. My brain seems to want to flit from one thing to another, which means that I have knitting, colouring, writing, quilting, and embroidery projects on the go at the moment. I'm plugging away a little at a time when I do have the brainpower and focus. I've been doing some critique for a couple of friends though - somehow finding things to improve is a lot easier in someone else's work than in my own at the moment!

Church is problematic. I've had times in my life when I've felt far from God - the advice is usually 'pray harder!' At the minute I feel as though I'm relying on others to pray for me, as I can't find the words. It's not as though there isn't any church at all - I've been astounded and moved by the way the church has mobilised itself to continue to meet the spiritual needs of Christians and the practical needs of people in communities at a time when the physical buildings are closed. My own church has a weekly online service, which is great, but it's not the same. Might never be the same again...

And I think that sums up this point of the pandemic in a nutshell for me. It's a very different life we're living at the moment, and we're nowhere near 'out the other side'. We've perhaps jumped over the first hurdle, and are beginning to adapt, but life will be lived on the edge for some time to come yet.

Photo: New Scientist

Grief

A lot of you will have already seen the post on facebook which said that my father-in-law died last Friday. Thank you to everyone who has sent love and condolences - it's very much appreciated.

As you can imagine, trying to deal with a death in the current crisis under the restrictions is a little harder then it would normally be. Even without the fact that we are 200 miles away from where Mr H died. It's very, very sad. And very, very strange.

If I'm not here very much over the next week or so, that's why.

Be back soon. x

Pairfect Socks?

An update on my coronasock exploits...

I wrote a blog about coronasocks a while back - you can read it here, but do grab a cuppa first, cos it's a long one!

There I detailed progress so far; six pairs of coronasocks completed, and my first lot of sock wool hand dyed. I also finished a pair of socks that had been begun by a friend's mum-in-law, but I didn't count them as I was only completing someone else's project.

The good weather meant I had a break from socks after that. I spent time in the garden instead, did a bit of editing, and reconnected with Discworld. However, the last couple of days I've been feeling a bit rough. I don't think it's THE virus, but I have been fatigued and achey and out-of-sorts, so I'm keeping to home and picked up the knitting again.

I knitted my hand dyed wool.

My lovely rainbow-dyed hank

And I was very disappointed.

The  lovely rainbow wool didn't knit a rainbow at all...it knitted speckly. And there was LOADS of cream - the original base colour of the undyed wool - which made some of the colours knit as stripes. And the lovely vibrant colours...weren't. Well, not in the first sock.

First sock at the bottom, second still on pins at the top

The first sock came out all muted tones - the yellow and orange were really pale. The second sock - well, the colours were much brighter. I did toy with the idea of knitting a third sock and seeing which two out of the three matched best, but they didn't look too bad once they were finished; 

I've obviously got a lot to learn about placing colours on the hank at the dyeing stage if I want to get thicker stripes. Or limit myself to two or three only...

But that's Pair number 7 completed. Feeling a bit rough still, I started on Pair 8: Pairfect Socks. 

The theory behind Pairfect Socks is that the ball has enough wool for two socks, which will match perfectly, because a section of yellow wool is the marker for the beginning/end of the colour pattern repeat which is the end/top of each sock. 

It sounded intriguing and I rather liked the pattern as shown on the label.

The reality is...different.

For a start, if I knitted the socks up as on the label, they'd be knee-highs. So I had to keep breaking into the wool to take bits out. I could've just knitted through I suppose - but I didn't. Here's the first sock:

Spot the differences...

And here's the wool left over from it...

Not the most economical of ways to knit matching socks - I'll end up with exactly the same little balls once the second sock's completed, too. 

To be honest, I've never had much problem matching my socks when using non-pairfect socks, so I don't think I'll bother using this kind of novelty approach in future.

Ah well, you live and learn! And I'm off to knit coronasock number 16.

Squidge's Writing Prompt #1

I realised I haven't written much about writing recently. You can thank CV-19 and my current fixation on knitting socks for that!

However, I have been posting prompts in our NIBS (writing group) facebook page as we can't meet in person under current UK restrictions. And there have been some surprising results. I received two emails out of the blue from folk who either don't or can't attend meetings due to distance; they were sharing what they had written as a result of the very first prompts I posted. They were lovely pieces, too - bowled me over!

Now, although there are lots and lots of prompts out in the world already, (just search 'writing prompts for...' and you'll see what I mean!) I've decided that I will start a habit of posting a weekly writing prompt here on the Scribbles. I will endeavour to try to write something myself based on it and share it with you. There's no pressure to share what you write yourself unless you want to (if you do, either post a short piece (200 words max) in the comments below or post it to your own blog if you have one and paste a link below) however it would be good to know if you find the prompts helpful.

Here goes...have fun.

Squidge's Scribbles Writing Prompt #1

There were two stark choices. 

One : open the box. 

Two : don't.

Corona socks

OK - this is definitely a grab-yourself-a-cuppa-first kind of blog! At least it might go some way to relieving your lockdown for a while...

Got your beverage of choice? (Mine's a G&T tonight!) Then read on...

I mentioned in a post from a couple of weeks ago that I was struggling to find focus in this current crisis, and my creative urges had led me to knit socks. This is partly because it doesn't take much brain power; I'm very familiar with the pattern I use, so if they are plain knit or some of my odds-and-sods socks, I can knit a pair to fit myself (shoe size 3 and 1/2) in two or three days if I'm not doing much else.

I decided to call them coronasocks - for obvious reasons, I hope - and so far, as we go into week 4 (I think - I've lost count) of 'stay-at-home' in the UK, I have made rather a lot of them. I don't mind showing them to you now, because half have gone to their recipients, and the others are being parcelled up to be put in the post this week. Take a gander...

Pair 1 complete - red, white and blue.

Pair 2. Odds-and-sods purple and green

Pair 3 - yellow and grey odds-and-sods. Really pleased with this colour combo

Pair 4 - lace-topped burnt orange

Pair 5 - odds-and-sods random

Pair 6 - odds-and-sods turquoise, though pink and purple snuck in too

I'm currently knitting Pair 7, another odds-and-sods pair in green and orange; one sock's completed and the other is at the heel.

I did have to order some more sock wool, as a friend has asked me to complete a UFO (UnFinished Object) for her, and while I was ordering that, I got tempted and ordered these:

The heathery-grey ball is really luxurious, and I wouldn't normally have gone for something quite so expensive. The pink is an Arne and Carlos Pairfect - the yellow strand you can see marks the start of the sock (you cut the yellow off first!) and there's another strand somewhere else in the ball which marks the start of the second sock. Now, I have small feet, so I will have to wind off lots of wool to get to the repeat, then wind it back into a ball the other way so I end up with two balls of leftover that match, so that's going to be interesting!

Incidentally, I do get a bit anal about matching up the repeats in patterns, even if they are fairly random. I end up with lots of little balls, so I decided the other day to join them all together into one big ball. There will be a pair of 'Surprise!' socks knitted, once I've wound a ball of about 60g....

The other thing I ordered was a skein of undyed merino wool. I have always loved hand-dyed yarns, but they can be very expensive. I'd looked up how to hand-dye using food colouring, which seemed a darn sight cheaper - I decided I'd have a go. It was a lockdown project.

Here's how I got on...

You can find all sorts of tutorials and videos telling you how to hand-dye - I used this one to take me through the process, but there are many others. So I'm going to assume that if you want to have a go, you'll look it up and won't need me to repeat everything in detail...

So... The food dyes I used are Dr Oetke gel colours, and I bought the full range of colours. The only colour I didn't use in this first experiment was the pink, but it was good to try all the others and see how they came out on the wool.

This is the wool in to soak for half an hour in warm water, to which 3 tablespoons of white vinegar had been added. 

I laid clingfilm over my work top, making sure there was plenty beyond the end of the hank. The skein had most of the water squeezed out of it so it was damp. I got a small art brush and started to paint the colours in blocks... 

I had to manipulate the wool to get coverage throughout, but needed to be careful - any dye on my hands or splashed onto the clingfilm, and a colour would get transferred to areas where I didn't want it to be.

Now I had in my head an idea...I wanted to try to create a pattern in the colours that, yes, would follow the rainbow, but would also end up knitting as solid stripes with speckles in between. So in the spaces, I jabbed a gel-dye-laden fork all over the place, making sure the colours overlapped a bit. Here's how it ended up; 

The next phase is to fix the dye. I realised I couldn't simply roll the wool in the clingfilm, or I'd contaminate my carefully separated colours - either because of splashes on the film or where the two sides of the skein touched. So I overlay another sheet of clingfilm over the wool, pressed it well down and then rolled it. I ended up with a rainbow coloured sausage!

My microwave is a powerful one (900W) so I blasted my wool for 3 x 2 minutes at 50%, with a minute or two in between each heating. I think the sausage was well and truly cooked - you can see the condensation inside the film.

Most instructions told you to leave the wool to cool, but I was too impatient... I unwrapped it. It was flippin' hot, so I got a bowl of cool water and as I cut the clingfilm away (it had gone a bit crispy and melted together in places) I let the hot wool go into the water. Looked like rainbow spaghetti!

It took three rinses until the water ran clear - I probably should have done a couple more as the red dye was still leaking a bit of orange when I squeezed it out ready to hang to dry. Found a coat hanger and - 

Ta dah!

Now there is always an element of pot luck in how the dye actually comes out. My speckled sections had worked pretty well with green, blue, and purple...

But came out as more of a gradient between the orange, yellow, and red.

                                          

I have no idea whether this was due to the wetness of the wool when I applied the dye; whether I put too much of these lighter colours on the wool when speckling; or whether these dyes act differently on the wool for some reason. 

It didn't come out exactly as I'd imagined - but it's not bad for a first attempt! 

So there we are. My first skein of hand-dyed wool. And it seems appropriate that it's rainbow coloured, considering how much the rainbow has been used as a symbol of hope in these difficult times. I'll let you know how it knits up...but I may not get round to it very quickly (my fingers are itching!) because I've started to get back into writing again for the first time in ages. Might be time to give the knitting pins a rest and focus on words for a while...

Feel free to share any lockdown projects you've got on the go with me - always good to hear what everyone else is up to, creatively.  

Corona continues...

It's Easter weekend as I write this, and I am sitting in the garden on Easter Saturday, having just done a 45 minute pilates session on the lawn.

It's quiet - no children playing in the garden yet. Someone was mowing the lawn a few minutes ago, and there is some traffic on the main road, but apart from that...birdsong. The crows are cawing at each other. The robin came and sang for a bit on the fence. Dunnocks were twittering in the pear tree as the blossom drifted down in a light breeze. Mummy blackbird landed on the fence about two feet away from me, but decided not to risk it. Blue tits are playing in the apple tree and the pigeon nesting in next door's holly tree came down for a quick strut. The local thrush is singing from some high point - 'rapido', '1,2,3' and 'brie, brie' he seems to sing. There's the lazy buzz of bees in the forget-me-nots underlying the birdsong.

It's already warm, and feels like a holiday. Yet this is not the 'staycation' I would wish for.

I have this strange sense of not doing enough. It doesn't seem right that I'm helping by sitting on my backside at home, doing nothing. Well, I say nothing - I'm knitting, (eleven coronasocks completed) cooking, gardening... There's a strange disparity - a world of difference - between me, staying at home, and the key workers who are going out to work every day, putting themselves at risk to keep things as normal as can be or while looking after the sick and dying.

I hope and pray that, this Easter, you'd be able to find resurrection hope in the middle of this awful time. And that you would stay safe and well until we come out of this on the other side...

Musical mayhem, mid-Corona

The Squidgelings are both rather musical.

Squidgeling J plays violin and recorder very well, but has also dabbled with guitar, mandolin, viola, harp, penny whistle and piano, and is currently teaching herself the melodeon to accompany the Folk Society at their sessions.

Squidgeling T's main instrument is the bass guitar, but he is also pretty proficient on 'normal' guitar, has dabbled in keyboard and played the double bass previously, too.

Being in lockdown - and at home for an Easter holiday that's been indefinitely extended for the foreseeable future - Chateau Squidge has therefore been rather more music-full of late. I've really enjoyed hearing folk tunes from one bedroom and bass lines from another.

However, one unintended consequence of the shutdown and imposed social distancing has been the desire to learn - and manufacture - even more instruments.

Chateau Squidge has been echoing to the sounds of;

1. A homemade low flute, made from a length of pvc pipe using some very detailed instructions.

2. Homemade bagpipes, cobbled together from a bin bag, a straw, the new low flute, a recorder, and plenty of gaffer tape. (If you fancy making some yourself, here are the instructions!)

3. An alto saxophone. Now, Mr Squidge is talented, (he helped make the first two) but not THAT talented. He hired one, as T expressed a desire to learn the sax and this seemed a better way of trying it out than committing to a purchase.

Cat in a (sax) box

By the end of today, J had played recognisable folk tunes on both the low flute AND the bagpipes (the latter was rather short and sweet because there's a knack to keeping the bin bag topped up with air through the straw) and T had managed to work out how to play (a rather ropey version) of 'Happy Birthday' on it - a challenge set by Mr Squidge for T to achieve in time for his birthday at the end of April. (Thank goodness for the garden room - it was definitely easier to listen to the sax from a distance...)

Not sure what tomorrow holds...

Maybe earplugs? 

Fighting to find some focus

Life is still very up and down, isn't it?

I've taken to posting my daily positives on facebook, because otherwise it's very easy to only see the limitations and negatives of these strange times.

Writing feels incredibly difficult at the moment. Not the blogs so much - they've almost gone back to being an online diary, like in the very early days of the Scribbles. But the novels...

I thought that as we have all this enforced time on our hands, I'd set about editing Tilda 3. Unfortunately I seem to be making things worse, not better. I can only do small chunks at a time, which isn't helping the story to flow. And yesterday... I had a particularly tricky scene to rework. I can see the action clearly in my head, but trying to write it from Tilda's deep viewpoint? By the end of two hours, it felt as though I was walking through treacle. I'd only got through two pages, and neither of them felt very improved.

I couldn't seem to get into Tilda's head at all, and it made me wonder whether there's an element of coronavirus crisis causing it? We're all going through so many changes so quickly in the current crisis, maybe I can't actually lift my subconscious focus from myself? Not that I'm being selfish - more that, like at other times when Life has got in the way of creativity, Life at this precise moment feels really big and scary and the effect that has is to shut down any creative juices that might otherwise be flowing. Survival mode, rather than comfy creative mode?

Except creativity hasn't shut down completely. I'm knitting socks again. They're relatively quick to knit, can almost be done with my eyes closed, and they don't require much brain-power, so it feels an easier outlet. The only difference is that these 'coronasocks' are being knitted for other people because I've got a drawerful of them already and don't really need any more...

Red white and blue for Squidgeling J, purple and green for E 

I'm also colouring in, which is why I took delivery yesterday of Jacqui Grace's book, Images of Hope. We all need hope at this time, don't we...? But I also like Jacqui's style and find it restful to create something unique, based on her work. Again, it's something I can do without using much brainpower.

One I did earlier in Words of Grace Devotional also by Jacqui

One waiting to be done in the new book

Hopefully, as this new 'normal' gets more normal, the focus will come back. I'll keep on trying to edit in between the colouring and knitting and who knows - maybe Tilda 3 will turn out OK in the end.

If not, maybe my next book will be all about knitting socks.

Stay safe and well. 

Me - on film!

Well, that was an experience!

There are lots of people turning to video as a way of keeping in touch, keeping fit (I had my first virtual dance class last night in my garden room!), helping to keep kids educated, etc etc etc.

We're finding it rather useful at church, too, especially now that the UK is virtually in lockdown and all places of worship are closed, even for private prayer. The vicar's already posted her first short video message, and our leadership team have held our first virtual meeting, too.

As part of our attempts to keep in touch, we're trying to encourage folk to get involved, and one of the things we're focusing on is rainbows; It started in Europe, where children stuck rainbows in their windows to cheer each other up, and it has spread.

For me, rainbows are important. One of the earliest posts on the Scribbles said a little bit about it...you can revisit it here. So how could I resist an opportunity to put a rainbow in my window...? Yesterday, one of the highlights of my day was to see a little boy - dressed in a superhero costume, out for a walk with his mum and younger sibling - who stopped outside my fence and yelled "Found one!"

So the two things of course had to be combined; I made a video for our church community, encouraging them to get involved by putting a rainbow in their window too.

Assuming I've done it right, you'll be able to see it below...

So if you feel like joining me, stick a rainbow in your window, too! 

Stay safe, Scribblers!

The Rollercoaster that is COVID-19

Last Wednesday, I felt remarkably upbeat. I was getting creative, and felt like I was coping with the changes we were seeing in society because of Covid-19.

However, things don't feel so rosy any more.

Every day since then has brought new restrictions, new closures, new ways of 'being'. The Squidge family has done their best, but it hasn't been easy... Personally, I've found myself very much more up-and-down. I have experienced an overwhelming mixture of emotions, often in just one day. Here are a few of the strongest.

Fear. Mainly of the unknown - when will we fall ill? How bad will it be? When will UK life be locked down? Will the NHS cope?

Sadness. We have had to deal with the limitations which need to be enforced at church - there's no public worship, and we've seen weddings cancelled and funerals limited.

Gratitude. There are lots of folk doing Good Things for friends and neighbours, or trying to give people access to activities online, or helping to calm and reassure those who are finding things difficult.

Worry. Almost constant, for family and friends who are vulnerable due to age or underlying health issues, or for those close to us who have been classed as key workers and continue to put themselves at risk of infection.

Anger. Directed against people who ignore the restrictions and guidelines which have been put in place to try to protect those who are most vulnerable and who are going to be working hard to protect us.

Disbelief. Life will probably never be the same again. We will always live with B.C and A.C - before Covid-19 and after Covid-19.

Joy. Seeing rainbows in windows, sharing comedy videos with the Squidgelings, taking a (safely distanced from others) walk and seeing signs of spring in my own and other people's gardens.

Panic. Needing to go out for some basic supplies like bread or cereal, and seeing empty shelves or no way of keeping a safe distance from other customers in a crowded store.

One minute I feel calm and content, editing Tilda 3 or colouring in my devotional book or reading or knitting. The next, it all comes crashing in again - the reality of what we are faced with - and I find I can't stop the tears from falling.

So yeah, it doesn't feel like a good place to be at the moment. But as one friend told me, when I posted I was on the verge of a panic attack after a trip to the local Aldi, talking about it all helps and there ARE things I can do to protect my mental health.

For anyone else who's struggling like me at the moment...you are not alone. Isolated, yes, but not alone. Do whatever you need to, to find the light in these dark times. In fact, I shall be lighting a candle in my window at 7pm tonight, to remind myself of the ultimate Light, Jesus.

Look for the light, and call out the darkness so it doesn't get a grip - on you, on your emotions, and on how we face this crisis together.

Love to you all. Stay home and stay safe.

Photo by Marc Ignacio