Sylvia Kent, writer, author, photographer and charming lady, was there with her camera and now I can be seen on her blog, which is good of her. For those interested, click here to read her short piece on new Council members.
While at the meeting I had several conversations with writers of all genres. It was very interesting to meet poets (I have great admiration for someone who can write poetry. The best I can do is a poor haiku!), novelists, journalists and fiction writers to mention just a few. Having written in isolation for so long, there were not many writers on Anguilla and we did not socialise as such, it is quite a welcome novelty to be able to talk 'shop' with like minded people.
One such writer is Anita Marie Sackett, who takes poetry into schools. This friendly and likable lady is the Poetry Representative on the SWWJ Council. Her website is a riot of colour and gives much information on this talented lady, including details of her children's poetry and adult historical talks.
Tuesday I moved into my office at home. I was only a week late in doing so, courtesy of the local carpet fitters who had come ten days before, boarded out the office floor, laid carpet and departed. By the next day the board had expanded and there were large 'bouncy' areas where it had bubbled. It took them ages to come back and sort it out, which they eventually did with much noise and no apology.
On Wednesday I celebrated being able to work at a desk for the first time since I left Anguilla. I thought I would try my hand at writing a little something for The Observer newspaper. The paper has a column called 'My Crap Holiday' and I have travelled extensively. I thought I could mine my memory for something unfortunate and write it up. The result was a short piece on our one and only family trip to Spain, which was awful to say the least. I sent it in, sat back and waited.
Thursday brought a parcel from America. Regular readers may remember that I reported on the Anguilla regatta for several publications back in the summer. I sailed on 'Hearts Desire' a 1925 Alden Schooner in one of the races, which was both fun and very interesting. I have been contacted by a person who worked on the boat in the 1970s and we have been emailing ever since. He has sent me a book of his father's war time letters home. His father, a private in the US Army Corps during WWII was stationed for a time in England. This book seems very interesting and I look forward to reading it and, perhaps, following up on some of the clues inside to find out more about this US serviceman and the people he met here in the UK. Watch this space...
On Friday I took time out and had lunch with our son. This was a rare treat for us both as we are busy people. It was good to have a little time to ourselves and to be able to chat.
Sunday dawned wet and depressing. I was raring to go though as I had lots of ideas for articles queueing up in my head and I wanted to get them started. My husband nipped off to get the Sunday paper and left me to it. He brought back The Observer and I was very pleased to see that my holiday had been thought bad enough to reach the 'My Crap Holiday' column! If you are interested, read it here.
I wonder what this week will bring?
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