Homework

Meeting Snow

Well I'm not really sure why you’re badgering me out of all seven of us! As if I don't have enough on my mind!

I mean seriously! I have enough to deal with! I work down that mine all day, I get no sunlight. The dust down there has just about finished with my lungs I’m exhausted every evening on the way home. It's not an easy life.

Anyway, what was it you wanted to know?

Oh right, how we met Snow. Well it was a particularly cold and wet night, the wind howled through the trees sending shivers through my spine. I have a pain in my leg that always flares up in this weather so I had a slight limp. The forest was alive with ghost and ghouls, or at least we were sure the sounds we could hear had to be some haunting presence. The shadows cast down by the tree branches like long bony hands did nothing to help matters. Needless to say we were on high alert. We seven stick together because our safety depends on numbers. Don’t get me wrong we are fairly strong, and I am known to be the angriest, but our size can at times be an disadvantage.

Anyway, I wasn't in my nicest mood, I was wet, hungry and all that faffing around in the shadows expecting a witch or monster to spring up on us was seriously getting on my nerves. The others were convinced they could hear a girls cries and I insisted they needed to give the ghost stories round the campfire a rest! What would a girl be doing the forest crying?

Well you can imagine my annoyance at having all six of them whispering 'I told you so!' While they stared at this pale face sleeping huddled against a tree. She must have been exhausted, she cried in her sleep and as much as we tried to wake her up she was consumed in her nightmare. It can’t have been easy sitting alone in the forest, poor girl must have been terrified. 

We sat waiting for her to wake and before we knew it, the sun was starting to rise. She took her time and my stomach had just about given up demanding food, I can’t stand being hungry. The others made such a fuss about her lovely dark hair resting against her pale porcelain like face with small plump red lips and long dark eyelashes. Nonsense really, but then they love to make a fuss. Don't get me wrong she was pretty but I am not into all that. I don’t take much notice. 

Once Snow White, that was her name she revealed, had got over the excitement of meeting such handsome little gentlemen. Her words not mine. She told us all her story and though I tried to be understanding, it can't be nice living with the awful stepmother. We had all heard many terrible things about her; you didn't want to be her enemy that meant certain death. But I still had damp dirty clothes on, I was still hungry and now I was sleepy, I needed my bed and the warmth of our cottage. So admittedly I did rush her story and interrupt her repeatedly when I felt he was taking too long. Next thing I knew the others had decided to invite her home. No one bothered to consult me! They didn't let me mull it over and look at it from all angles as I do with most decisions. I mean the cheek! It's my cottage too! Speaking of which, whose bed would she sleep in? She certainly wasn't having mine. I don't care who she is or how mesmerizingly beautiful. Seeing as Happy and Bashful are always so willing and nice they can give up their beds.

Once we got to the cottage and showed Snow around we had a quick coco with bread and butter and had a view hours sleep before having to go to work again. Snow was a bit worried about staying home alone but none of us could really stay to keep her company. Either way I was not in a good mood at all, after such few hours’ sleep who can blame me. I grabbed my tools with a grumble and scrambled out of the cottage doing my best to keep up with my stupid housemates singing that retched song across the forest, heigh-hoing and whistling. If I hear that song one more time I might explode! Did I mention I am not a morning person?

Work was no different to any other day, we had advanced very little in the past few days mining. I was glad the morning work was over and looked forward to going home and removing my dust encrusted boots for a few hours before returning. The rain had cleared overnight so that the sky was now wonderfully blue, not a cloud in sight. The birds were chirping away happily and I even caught a glimpse of some rabbits in the grass. Spring was definitely in the air, I secretly love this time of year. 

Our cottage was no less outstanding that particular day, I think every surface sparkled. Snow had spent the entire morning cleaning it seemed. The cottage was gleaming, there were fresh daffodils on the window seals and the table was laden with wonderful food. We tucked in to our meal and listened to Snow thanking us for letting her stay. I can’t remember the last time we had soup, a main dish and desert.  Even I felt a little less grumpy after having my share of food. It seems I had nothing to complain about. When the time came to head out again we warned Snow to not venture out as it may be dangerous for her alone in the dark. She was not to open the door to anyone no matter who they claimed to be. I was apprehensive as it is well known her Stepmother always had a way of finding things out. 

We rushed home from the mine looking forward to what Snow may have cooked up for us and looking forward to our beds with their fresh crisp sheets. As we approached the cottage it was clear something was not right. The door was slightly ajar, we ran the last bit towards the cottage and there lay Snow. Just inside the cottage, she looked sound asleep but nothing seemed to wake her. She was cold to the touch and appeared to have stopped breathing. I was furious, why did she open the door? We were so clear about this. Who had done this to her? What did we do know?

We brought her in and lay her on Dopeys bed, as it was the nearest one to the door. There she lay, day and night. After the third night we had to accept she may never wake up. We took her into the forest and surrounded her with flowers. She did look beautiful; her lips were still as red as the day we met her which seemed odd in her otherwise lifeless body. Every evening we returned to check on her and nothing had changed. The birds had taken to singing in the trees around her, it seemed they wanted to keep her company. I was still furious that this could have happened. On one such evening a Prince appeared. Some might have said he was rather handsome, I only noticed how he kept staring at Snow. He claimed he would take her to his castle and hire the lands best doctors to bring her out of that deep sleep he thought she was in. We told him many days had passed and it didn’t seem she was going to wake up. We explained or theory, a ruby red apple was resting on the floor next to her when we found her and it had also remained frozen in time. The apple had not changed colour the way apples do after only a few minutes so it must have contained something to cause this. He promised to keep us informed if only we allowed him to try to help. We had little choice but to accept we knew none of us had any better ideas. As the prince bent over to carry her he gave her the slightest of kisses and as if by magic Snow slowly seemed to free herself from whatever had caused her to be unable to wake.

From the moment her eyes focused on the Prince I knew we had lost Snow. Their eyes twinkled when they looked at each other it was clear they wanted to be together. Snow promised she would visit and she has continued to do so, I think she can’t resist coming, so that’s how we met your mama Snow. Now can I please have some peace and quiet? Go and play with one of the others I need some rest

Starting creative writing DAY 3

I told mum earlier that I would rather go home but now I am glad my laziness (and slight nerves) didn't stop me.

It was by far the funnest lesson. It's weird that I feel this way considering I had to share my homework with my fellow students (in groups of 3's pheww, not in front of all 11) and comment on each others work. Both guys were very nice and gave some good comments. I have my fingers crossed that they found my work as interesting as I found theirs.

Once that was over and done with, which took most of the lesson, because we then discussed a piece per group with all the class.

We were shown the following video....

And asked to write about it in first person. So we could be the girl or the guy simply explaining that situation, the emotions etc. It could be done in retrospect or as it happens but the idea was to explore their thinking.

Here is my 10 minute attempt.......

I decided to ask Mike out for dinner, well sort of a date really. In the hope that being outside the house in an environment devoid of all the usual distractions, t.v, phone, internet for him and house choirs for me, we would find ourselves more able to share some quality time. I made sure to make an extra effort. I wore a lovely dress that had been bought a while ago in the hope that an occasion for it would arise. I put on heels which would obviously have me limping home, but what the hell. If the idea was to reinvigorate our relationship I could hardly do it in jeans and trainers.

Things started of well, with the menu offering us a leeway into a discussion and some light conversation. We decided what to order, the waitress took note and the starter arrived in much the same time we had descended into silence. This is what our marriage had become, days could go by and our conversations never veered of the usual everyday essentials. Good morning, have a good day, how was work, I think I'll go to bed now, could you turn the volume down and all the variations.

I don't know exactly when it happened but in our 10 years together we seemed to have exhausted all topics of conversation.  I can recall times when conversations would continue through the night because there seemed to be so much to say. Had we said too much at the start and left each other nothing for the future? Surely not all relationships turned into this? 

Mike had lost interest in me, we had lost touch with what motivated us, what enthused us and routine had quickly stripped away all the enjoyment. We were no longer students, we had jobs that meant we could pay the rent and take the occasional holiday but neither of us found work particularly fulfilling. 

I had given up initiating conversations too so I know we are both to blame. But, there is a limit to how long someone can keep holding the fort. Sitting in the restaurant it was obvious to me that all other tables were deep in conversation. Why were they any different? What was their secret?

Looking back perhaps it was too late, my mind was pretty much made up at that point.  Maybe all I wanted was to give Mike a heads up on the situation, to help him see something was seriously wrong and spare myself the horror of seeing him bewildered with no clue as to why I had had enough. 

I know for him having nothing to say and simply being together had become comfortable and sufficient. I guess he felt we knew each other and living together what more could there be to share? But for me it became impossible to imagine another 20-30 years down this path where if Mike managed to stick around it would have only been only a physical presence because emotionally we had already spent a few years apart.  

That's it! :)

And homework for next week....

Re-write a fairytale in 1st person no more than 2 A4 pages. :)

Starting creative writing DAY 2

My second lesson was slightly less terrifying, mainly because it wasn't the 1st lesson. But seeing as we had a teacher replacing our regular one it was all introductions again! 

This cover teacher was extremely comfortable in her herself and spoke with confidence which made the lesson much more fast paced. She also had a way of pushing us all that was at times frightening but thought provoking. We spent the lesson learning about character building and the importance of it. For me this was all new as I have never created characters or stories for that matter. 

What was evident was the importance of knowing your character inside out, knowing their flaws, their 'issues' because we all have them. Knowing what they love and hate with specific examples i.e she loved dogs, but which ones in particular? I learnt that for many authors a story begins with the creation of a character, the development of this person and asking what does this person want and whats stopping them? And in this way the journey starts. What happen in the story is much more dependent on your characters personality than on the situations because they dictate the reactions that will take place. Though all this left me baffled I have to admit I found it fascinating and admire writers that much more for their creativity. 

The quick task in the lesson was to find a person (real or made up) and describe them in 3 words, then give specific examples of this. None of us were very specific or detailed it has to be said. We had to know characters favorite songs, food, company they worked for etc etc we were quizzed on every aspect. How this is achieved is beyond me. I think I would struggle describing even the people I know convincingly. But I wont be deterred, at least I feel my brain is engaging in something rather than sitting on my ever growing backside watching tv or some such thing I would normally do on a Tuesday evening. 

Homework idea 2- Untouched

She had just stepped into the living room after a relaxing bath, wrapped only in her towel. Her husband sat back on the sofa with his laptop surfing the internet for anything to entertain him on his day off work. They both turned to each other they heard footsteps outside the house, it was nothing to worry about probably their little girl coming back from playing in the communal playground. No sooner had they dismissed it when 'POLICE, GET ON THE GROUND!' was reverberating through the room. He was down instantly catching a glimpse of masked men with guns pointed straight at them. She was on her knees suddenly aware of how vulnerable and exposed she was in only her towel. She was terrified but knew that lying down would leave her completely exposed and at the mercy of these men. 

With a slight quiver in her voice she spoke with all the calmness she could muster, 

'Sir, I know you do this out of necessity, you like me have a family that needs taking care of -please take anything you want, take it all but know that I need to be here when my daughter comes back from the playground. ' 

She knew saying this was a huge risk, would it make this man angrier or would it hit a nerve ?. Seeing a glimpse of doubt in this eyes she continued 'We will give you everything we have, the Christmas gifts are wrapped please take them, give them to your family, just don't harm us.' She slowly began to raise herself from the floor keeping her eyes locked on the hand holding the gun while he angrily pointed his gun at her chest and demanded she show him where everything was kept. 

She went from room to room methodically relinquishing all her possessions  As she entered the bedroom ahead of the masked man she pushed something quickly behind the night table as she handed him the tray she kept by her bed with any jewellery she removed before bed. She quickly moved him away and started handing him all her newly purchased Christmas gifts praying continuously that her daughter would not return and startle them by ringing the doorbell. As long as they kept calm there was hope these men would leave and she could hold her daughter in her arms, this alone would be enough. Watches, teddy bears, games, jewellery, ipads and ipods all in rucksacks she provided. 

Meanwhile her husband has been tied up and thrown on the bathroom floor. As she was led into the bathroom and ordered to lie down next to her husband her only thought was, this is it, they will kill us here to contain the bloodshed to one room.

 'Please my daughter needs me she will be home any minute, and I will need to open the door for her. Don't tie me up I will sit still I swear.' she sobbed. 

' Get on the floor, I will lock this door when you hear me knock you will untie your husband and leave the room after 20 minutes. Do you understand?' 

She could only manage the slightest of nods as acceptance. He locked the door as she sat silently clawing away at the rope that held her husbands arms and legs tied up, listening out for footsteps coming towards them. 

'They're coming' he whispered. 

TAP...TAP...TAP. She stared at her husband through tear filled eyes holding her hand to her mouth terrified of making a noise and provoking any change to the plan. Time seemed to have stopped in those seconds they waited before they heard guard dogs barking in the distance.

She called her daughter from outside and embraced her as tears run down her face, she could not have been happier.  In the aftermath of so much destruction she could hardly believe they had been left unharmed. Looking around now it was clear anything of any value and not too cumbersome for the 5 masked men was gone. 

As they sat in the empty flat with papers scattered all over the floor her husband called the police and relatives while he drank a shot of vodka to control his nerves. The worst was now over. She sat with her daughter who was happy beyond belief, after the initial shock of what she could grasp had happened, because her treasured Cuc was still sitting where she had left it on her bed. Her long since faded and furless lion with splitting seams and exposed stuffing was overlooked by the horrible men that had taken mami and daddies things. To this little girl it was the most priced possession every stain and bump in its fur tells her a story of their 7 years together. Cuc had adorned her crib before she had even spent her first night in it and had been by her side ever since, with any luck he would continue to play a central role in all her games and be by her side when she slept until she out grew the need for him. 

Once everything was sorted, police reports made, enough alcohol had been handed out to calm racing hearts and minds the mother went up stairs and looked behind the night table. There glinting in between the carpet threads was her most valued possession. As she held it in her hands she knew they would get through this, they had overcome so much together, nothing reminded her of their journey more than this emblem to their companionship. Putting her smooth caramel like band on her finger with its brillant transparent facetted stone she knew they had lost nothing, everything she valued was there, untouched. 

Homework idea 1

At the risk of sounding cheesy and rather pathetic in a time when romance and love are viewed with ridicule and in a place where we are intrinsically negative even if we are happy. I can not find an object with more significance to me than my engagement ring.

My pure fascination with jewellery in general runs deep, with a life long obsession for theses gems. I practically have to be torn away by someone else as I stare longingly at others jewellery. I always longed to own a piece that held so many feelings and memories in it's power. I never had anything passed down generation to generation seeping ever deeper in the web of family history. I don't actually think my grandmother owns any jewellery and as for her mother and grandmother I would go as far as to say it probably never crossed their minds.  But then I guess it doesn't when you spend your days wondering how you will feed a large household with a slither of beef or make enough food for ten with 2 eggs.

Possibly among the smallest things I own its size is no reflection of its importance. It's faceted stone holds a promise of companionship. Its sparkle as it catches my eye in everyday movements a reminder of years spent together. The twinkle of the stones on either side a symbol of adventures yet to come. With it's caramel like smoothness and continuity around my finger I carry it like an emblem of this dream we all leap into when we decide to take this step with no certainty that what was felt when it was given will remain unchanged.

The whole process of getting to this stage has been a roller coaster, thrilling yet amazingly terrifying and unpredictable at times. Its importance is heightened that much more because of the doubts and fears that has to be faced to arrive at the decision.

Behind this ring stands someone who though surrounded by break ups and divorce, in a society full of greed, selfishness and lacking in compromise still hopes that this relationship will be unlike the majority. But, who enters such a thing with the idea of separation? Is it not jumping eyes closed into the unknown, holding hands and hoping wherever you land your fingers will still be interlocked?

Ok, this is my first attempt at my homework which is - to write something  (anything) about an object with meaning to me.

Starting creative writing DAY 1

I am sure you are on tenterhooks wondering what I did in my first lesson and as I am not one to torture those who care for me, here goes.....

I arrived 20 minutes early yet there was an even eager-rer beaver than me. The class started of very very quietly if a feather had been left to float round the room and finally rest on the floor we would have heard it's entire journey- I swear. So after that rather uncomfortable wait we all introduced ourselves and much to my bewilderment not everyone was a beginner! Cheeky buggers!!

We were 11 in the class, one had already had a piece published another writes his own sketch show and has been touring for 3 years. Then there was a classics graduate, a girl who wrote plays in French, a retired business teacher about 5 fellow bloggers all with a clear idea of what they want to do- kid books, short stories, novels, plays and sitcoms. Oh.... And me- the office administrator out on a whim thinking she's cut out for this because she can string a few words together and put her thoughts on paper.

Once my heart beat had stabilised from popping out of my chest, seriously I'm no public speaker! We went on to read a poem about ballons and one about a vase both of which I struggled to concentrate on. My ears we still ringing from the noise my heart was making as my turn to talk got closer and closer.

We were asked to work in pairs with an object picked out at random, we got a bottle opener, and find as many uses as possible for it.

Here goes....

1. Bottle/beer opener (Jo at her most creative?)
2. Necklace pendant for those that can't do with a glass
3. Coconut milk extractor
4. Self defense weapon
5. drill/ wrench
6. thread unpicker
7. voodoo doll 
8. puppet
9. some sort of pully device (not sure what my girl with a degree in Classics meant)
10. bamboozeler (again my Classics chic thought of this)

Then we had to write a description of the object for someone that has never seen it...

At first glance it's shape springs to mind a human figure. In this case my little figurine dons a sickly orange vest clinging to a skeletal torso. A smooth, shiny mirror like head with a hole in the centre and a thin pairs of arms poke through his clothes. With arms on cogs rendered unable to move individually, and a stance reminiscent of a soldier on duty he stands awaiting orders. Though only able to move his arms up or down in unison creating a rather comical sinking of it's head all at once my little man can only shrug with arms held high. 

Then we had to write an encounter with said object....

I can recall a moment of urgency, when my coconut milk cravings could hardly be contained. I was struck with the not so easy task of extracting every last drop out of this fluffy sphere without damaging all its shell and effectively losing the sweet thirst quenching liquid. In desperation, and with no other tool for the job, the spiral end of my bottle opener was the perfect way of piercing through the 3 tiny weak points of the tortoise like exterior and capturing my well deserved drink. 

Ok, so that's all a managed in our 10 minute task. No master piece, I know. But this is a beginners course- and that I am. A few people read out their favorite line but I in pure Jo-i-ness style chickened out and said I could find nothing worth reading out. I know, not very brave, but I certainly never claimed to be brave. 

Crafty Saturday exhibition with my girls

Overall the exhibition was fun, I was worried that we wouldn't have enough time to explore all the stalls, luckily many stalls had scrap booking things which were not of  particular interest to us. 

We explored the jam packed rows looking for things that could tempt us and we found- fabrics galore (based in Lavender hill, yeppy), a lady making gorgeous pieces (Bailey Tomlin), and this incredible knitted aquarium that made me which I could have seen it through child's eyes. Though not a child any longer I certainly felt like one inside this knitted wonder.

The attention to detail and the business of it left you looking in all directions not knowing quite what to take in, tiny star fish, sea horses, mermaids and a myriad of fish. Oh and lighthouses, fisherman, buckets and spades, Punch and Judy show nothing had been missed. 

See for yourself....

Our little bodies gave up on us and we had a pit stop involving Ewita's thermos coffee and her squishy lemon polenta cake. This girl is a treasure, there is nothing she isn't prepared for! That tiny Longchamp probably has supplies for a week camping. :)

 Opps no picture of the hours spent chatting in the bar, the AMAZING olives or the pizza we indulged in but, it was the best bit. :)

^ On the way home I saw this. it made me sad because I know how awful it is to lose your little feline baby. We have lost and found one and one we lost never returned. I hope this family had more luck with their little Sookie. 

 ^ Some purrring time together with my fluffy princess.

Sunday, mama and I met in Brixton (yep Brixton) not our usual territory and I won't be making it a regular. The pound shops and markets not really our thing but we made the most of it. I got a MAC lipstick Up the Amp and a Magenta lip liner while mama purchased one of her favorite lipstick (can't remember the name). 

^ We found some cuddly temptation here but with strong will power mama dragged me away. 

First day at school ..............Fear & Panic....

I have been contemplation doing a writing course for a while now and it just so happens that this morning I received an email from Morley updating me on the up and coming courses. There in front of me was a starting creative writing course.

I looked at it, and looked again, read it then re read it. I mulled over it in between doing my work, I consulted by husband and my mother. I thought about it more,  then a bit more. But now it's booked!

I feel slightly sick, butterflies in my tummy, panic and fear of embarrassment. I immediately started to think, why did I do this? I will be ridiculed in front of these strangers, I will be asked exactly what made me think I could do it. I will be thrown out for being completely idiotic. I will be made to feel a fool for even thinking for a split second that I could be among people with creativity. I know realistically these things are unlikely to happen but I will be honest in my head the heckling and cackling has already started.

Un petit rendez vous in Paris

 ^ Where Amelie was filmed or so we were told. :)

^ You can see mum has reached the end of her tether right about here.

^ This was goodbye....our little drink before going to Gare du Nord.