Ireland won!…

Ireland won their first match comfortably. I knew they would. By now, you know I like sports. Cricket and rugby in particular, but not in that order. I love athletics, and most any sport except football. I only watch football in company and if it’s a final or something like that. Yes. I know the offside rule.

I’m doing ok, except that I wake up trembling. I don’t know why. It doesn’t bother me much. It goes away. I’m not going to see a doctor about it. It will pass, and if it doesn’t I don’t think I will die.

We are still in lockdown here, and my daughter is in lockdown in Oxford. What a shame that her shining talent has twice been curtailed. If I needed her, she would be able to come, it’s about an hour and 40 minutes away.

Meanwhile, a poem of mine was well received at Exeter. A zoom event. They are sucha great group. And a member of a nearer group complimented me on a poem he had not heard before. This small things mean a lot. I try to compliment other poets whenever I can.

Last week, while I was typing, I saw my daughter dancing in a navy blue cape. I know it was real, and now I have even more questions about being synesthete, having 10% more IQ, and this disease. In fact, I’ve just had an idea.


Still feeling well…

On Wednesday evening I zoomed to two different poetry events. This isn’t the best etiquette, but I am pleading grace for it.

My daughter called in between, which is probably why I did not return to the first zoom event.

Someone gave me Malibu for my birthday. I have enjoyed some with peach juice. I do love it, and it reminds me of my sister.

This is my third Christmas/birthday without my sister.

Tomorrow, friends are coming with their baby. I can’t wait.


A fresh fig from my tree…

A friend came over today in order to help with my garden. Really, I helped him. We transplanted a few plants and planted new ones.

He managed to get my sister’s memorial rose free from a weed that was choking it. I am particularly grateful for that.

Chatting whilst gardening is a great thing to do. It is so good for mental health. I had a fever, still do, but being in the garden did me a lot of good.

Just before that, a chap from the other end of the Quay came to get some horse manure. I was pleased.

Earlier, a friend came to pick up a box and bag for charity shops. She flattened some boxes for me, and connected my kindle to the wifi. It’s now connected to Amazon.

We had a coffee and a chat. She’s really lovely and I appreciate her a lot.

I gave her a copy of my book. Last Monday, I attended a zoom poetry event and read from my book. Afterwards, I was thrilled to see they had put a link on their facebook page. That is what creative people need. A lot of encouragement. Thank you, Exeter!

The book has had two really good reviews on Amazon. It so helps, otherwise we tend to feel we are writing to a void.

Zoom meetings have been great during this pandemic.

So yes, I still have a fever. I slept well last night. My breathing seems a bit better. I so don’t want to go into hospital.

My daughter will be home soon. I can’t wait to see her.


Letter from hurt and bewildered by Abby G Poetry to the world…

For the last 18 months I have attended The Platform, a poetry group where we read our poetry. I have always enjoyed it and met such great people.

I think it was in June that the leader, who calls herself Abby G Poetree, messaged me a horrid message that she gets complaints about me. It was particularly upsetting as I had left a zoom meeting in tears because I minimise my ill health and other problems in my life, like the pile of water above my ceiling. I was shocked and hurt. Why tell me? I don’t repeat what others say.

I replied to the effect that why should she hold back? And I posted in the group page that if anyone wants to complain about me they should talk to me. This was greeted with an angry emoji from Abby and her boyfriend. What has it to do with him?

Apparently, it was unacceptable to carry on talking to someone who asked me a question while we had a cyber intruder.

Abby posted that the page was for poetry only, although someone else had posted a political petition.

I removed my post and messaged Abby that I did not like her boyfriend’s attitude – the angry emoji. She responded with ‘Do you think everything is about you?’ and that she is fair to everyone. I had no idea what she meant so she explained that her boyfriend had whispered about muting somebody who was strumming their guitar while someone was reading. I had been oblivious to this.

I replied to this effect and was there anything else she would like to accuse me of. She iterated that she is fair to everyone.

No. She always chooses the same group of people to read first. She compliments them. She has never complimented me.

Time passed and I found myself unable to join zoom meetings. Then I messaged the effect her attack had had on me. I got no reply.

Then last night I was locked out of a zoom meeting. I was bewildered and very hurt. I phoned her phone hoping she would realise her mistake. I left a message in the group page. When I got to the page it was deleted and then I was no longer a member of the group. I was frozen out with no dialogue. Just silent passive agression. I know Paul Harris has a hand in here.

I messaged her. She told me she never wants to hear from me again, she is fair.

She encourages everyone but me. She has never paid me a compliment or asked me to read as first one. She does not go round in any systematic way, just where her eyes lead her.

I am punched in the gut. I considered her a friend. She has been a guest at my home, and we’ve spent time together. I don’t recognise her. An apology doesn’t seem to occur to her.


The poison pen…

The malice of some woman. Jealous. Empty life. Alcoholic.

A friend in Brooklyn said ‘No wonder he preferred you to her’. People who do this are mentally ill.

I would know this writing anywhere although she has attempted to straighten her dropped curls. The note paper is a complete give away.

Her sister will recognise it as well as Michael.

Tiny minds do tiny things. But the damage caused is unforgiveable. Thankfully I am friendly with a Chief Inspector, who has used his discretion to allocate an officer. They are really busy right now. She can sweat. So can the letting agency who blamed me for the loss of the last tenants.

I am still enjoying English conversation classes. I wish I had started before last summer.

My garden will be beautifully nourished by rain water. It is still raining.

Zoom poetry last night. Chaotic but no one got drunk. Professional poetry events by zoom have an agenda, and no one speaks. It feels odd not to clap. But no chaos.