Jottings before dinner

An hour to go...

Until then I'll blog and braise and try to create.

~Braising tonight is sausage, vegetables and rice followed by footie and apple and almond cake.

~Must try to finish a poem I started earlier in the week, it's nothing to do with love or sadness but a homage to my gardener, the ever so gentle giant, Gray.
He popped in this afternoon you know, to talk about my bulbs.
Bless his mighty wounded heart.

~If the England boys don't thrash Montenegro I'll have worn my England t-shirt for nothing.

~Been thinking a lot about poetry lately especially my poetry and what it means to me. My first touch of poetry was given to me at the age of 10, by my dad of all people, he'd bought me a History of England type book and within its pages were chapters about Kings and the voting system and chapters on wars and the suffragette movement. Darted amongst this heavy stuff were poems by English poets and the very first one I read was 'The Lamb' by William Blake.
I have never looked back.
When I read these poems I didn't know whether they were good all I knew was they took me somewhere. And I loved the place.

~Mr H has just phoned saying he'll be very late, something to do with a rush job at work. Hope his train coincides with half time...