This week has been furniture moving time. My sister has developed some difficulty in orientating herself within the emptier spaces in our abode, last year we laid down some runner carpets at specific angles across the hall, which has worked very well as a tactile clue as to where she is. This week we have been re-arranging furniture in the lounge. As long as we keep the furniture in the correct alignments it mostly works:) But she needed more – so we moved a filing cupboard into my working space and my bureau out into the lounge. Amazing how such a small move can make such a difference!
However small adjustment it may have been to enable two elderly ladies to do this all the drawers needed emptying and refilling, bookcases needed emptying and refilling and. . . well you get the picture:)
Now I look at the bureau and memories come back. I was given this piece of furniture when I was a child,back in the 1950s. Because,as I declared to the parents, a writer need somewhere to write.
I did pen a few childish tales, which at the time I was well pleased with, spent more time staring into space and dreaming!
It was an expensive present and I exchanged two birthday and one Christmas presents for it. I felt so grown up. I spent my pocket money on nibs for my fountain pen, an array of coloured inks; in time I saved enough for a second pen. I bought fancy coloured blotting paper, pencils and erasers. Eventually I would pen letters to friends on fancy bright coloured notepaper. It was my place.
No best sellers then.
Eventually I exchanged the pens for a typewriter, again exchanging various birthdays etc. And typed one ‘masterpiece’ with two fingers. Cannot even remember anything about that one!
Then I was all grown, went away to college – to work – to travel – to uni – to retirement.The bureau remained in the family home.
My bureau is not designed for all the paraphernalia of modern technology, so has been designated a holder of selotape tape, envelopes and spare paper, paper clips and sticky notes. I have never been able to bring myself to rid myself of it. Not the most beautiful; furniture back then was utilitarian. But on the maroon interior I played with my dreams and cannot just ditch it.
Writing: Not a lot but have done a great deal of sorting out of written words and drafted two more chapters. Which is okay.
Blogging: Had quite a few written but then for some reason none of my pictures would upload. Have tried everything I can think of so have handed the problem over to blog hosts.
Reading: done well this year after smashing the 100 mark last year I am 4 in now despite all the housework.
Networking: no, not good yet.
Next Week: Just trog along and do what I do.