A large Sturgeon, A Peppermint Tea and a Fizzy Water

Alt Text for this photo is in the text of the post.

This morning the air carries the scent of warm, damp hay. The birds were singing the day in loudly when I noticed this, and seemed to be telling me they had been doing so for some time this morning before I woke from my sleep to greet the day.

I am currently celebrating the joy of staying present and being fully in the moment. On Thursday last week this was huge for me because I was launching my book, and I was determined to enjoy my own reading and be able to immerse myself fully in the words of others.

My goal was to have moved on from the reading I did in October where I spent a lot of time beforehand overthinking it, because I did not know the best ways to tackle the nerves that rose in my stomach. I wanted to have less of that feeling that I captured in the poem ‘There’s a Doll Thumping in My Chest’!

I knew I would need water to hand because I had such a dry mouth last time and I knew I had to reframe some of my beliefs about myself. I tapped into everything I had learnt about myself from coaching and what it was that would help me be the best I could be. Trust me there’s been a lot of work on that since September and so many people from my In Good Company cohort have helped me move myself forward. My coach asked me if I had considered videoing myself and reviewing this, and this helped. Talking with good people helped, and giving myself a ‘confidence pocket’ was also fun.

All this led me to being able to enjoy the moment when the back of my neck tingled when Annick Yerem read my poem ‘Clambake’ and her poem ‘Out of Africa’. And to hold the joy of seeing the faces of friends in the audience (and their cats) who had come along to listen and support me.

There is an art to placing words in the air and I felt the craft of this in the readings that the open mic-ers shared. Throughout the evening I held on to my intention of remembering that people were celebrating with me, and that me and my words were worth it. Hugest thanks to Nigel Kent, Annick Yerem, Carol Sheppard, Liz Gibson and Matthew M C Smith. And to Rhianna Levi and Josephine Lay who shared sets. The fact we shared the space to launch ‘Welcome to the Museum of a Life’ means so much to me. I have no need to wonder about whether there was a recording because the whole evening is etched on my heart.

Here are some of the words that I tucked into my confidence pocket:

  • I really don’t know why or how you ever doubted yourself.
  • One day you’ll enjoy it.
  • You read your poems on YouTube so well.
  • You inhabit your poems when you read them.

All the people who are always rooting for me were also in that pocket, and I swear I could hear them gently cheering me on.

I now have this comment to add in: You looked so cool, calm and collected by the way. 

This all moves me so far from:

  • I can’t do this.
  • I am not good enough.

And I got to see a very large sturgeon and an albatross in the Worcester museum. And enjoy a peppermint tea and a fizzy water before my reading.

Susan Richardson put together a special episode of her podcast to celebrate ‘Welcome to the Museum of a Life’ and it was an absolute treat to wake up on Sunday morning with the anticipation of finding out which poems she had selected. I loved listening and will listen again. Here’s the link to that episode of A Thousand Shades of Green and there are plenty of other episodes too, all the perfect length for when you need a pause in the day and a good listen.

Alt Text offers nothing for this week’s photo, but I say it is Sue Finch in the moment sharing her poems.

Here’s to all the singing that goes on as the darkness lifts.

Blue Apples Appear

Alt text is in blog post.

This morning the air brings me the scent of grass. Slightly herbed and fresh. The more silage-based smell of old cuttings stays in the brown bin.

Yesterday the birds celebrated themselves for Dawn Chorus Day and I shared one of my dawn chorus poems on social media even though I did not join them in the early morning. I did take a moment to remember two of my favourite dawn chorus experiences though. One of these was my first ever dawn chorus when my friend Karen’s Dad took me Karen and Sarah out for to experience sunrise and helped us name the birds we could hear. The other was at Loggerheads were Kath and I stood to hear the last owl and the first blackbird. Both magical in completely different ways.

I have been looking at things from a variety of different angles this week and found myself with some perfect moments for reflection. One of these came after a wonderful meal out with a friend at the start of the week.  Laughter and chat and that feeling of being heard and hearing yourself out loud is freeing. The sea and driving a straight road under the moon also bring a lightness to things for me so it was good that all that was mixed in too.

I have had fast paced walks and slow meanders this week and I like the contrast. I can walk things out with a speedy pace and I can enjoy the curiosity of my thoughts when it is more of a stroll. Both are important, but I guess the meander tells me I am finding the world interesting and that ‘Hurry Up’ driver is nicely at bay. When I was thinking about that this week I reflected on the fact that the ‘Hurry Up’ is only telling me I have a feeling of stress and that if I take a moment to think about what is causing that I can dampen it down. When I don’t take notice I just end up doing more than one thing at a time and not enjoying them.

When I coach I wonder about the need to put some things down in order to move forward and I felt myself thinking about this ahead of having a coaching session this week. Putting things down is important to me. It helps me to stop procrastinating when something needs to be done and saves that time of rolling around in too many thoughts instead of just noting the actions that will move things on and doing them.

Alt Text says this week’s picture is “A blue apple next to a book”. Alt text pretty much nails it. Did I mention I will be launching ‘Welcome to the Museum of a Life’ this week? And do you know how much it makes me smile that there are blue apples in the world as well as the ones I have already discovered?

My day had two starts to it this morning, the finding out what the air smells like start and the watching of a video. During coaching last week I was talking about what brings in my performance nerves and my coach asked if I had thought about videoing myself in order to review my performance. I laughed because I remembered all the work I had put in to make sure I could share individual poems on my YouTube channel. This made me realise I must have been working on this for some time and I tapped in to what it was I did there that enabled me to be ready to read. So yes, I was the poet that watched themselves back this morning and I am pleased to say I have been giving myself a harder time than I need to.

IT IS NOT ABOUT DAWN

It is about that moment

before the dark time breaks,

being present in the silence,

standing still in an exact moment.

It is all about when that first bird sings,

first light,

the fact that there is an order

that layer upon layer

sculpts the day’s beginning.

It is about discovering how long it takes

before the crow starts to echo back

with his rough

cruck, cruck.

DAWN CHORUS

Your bed was a lazy lover,

warm and familiar, holding you.

Yet soon the birds would be waking,

mapping out a set of songs

to greet the moon-washed sky.

I waited for you to free yourself

to stand and listen as the mist thinned

so we, too, could welcome the new day.

Here’s to holding things lightly, sharing time, and to the people who bring out the best in us.

Show Time!

Picture is described in the blog post.

This morning the air smells of yellow-flowered Spring. The moon has been full this week and I went out to walk under it in the middle of the week, but somehow missed its rising. It felt good though to be remembering the joy of walking under a full moon and all those moons I stood under and wrote poems for in 2022.

Alt text says this week’s photo is “a red scarf in the air”. I say it is Petulia, a shawl designed by my wonderful wife that we took for a fly before travelling to Wonderwool Wales to exhibit it as one of her designs. I also say it looks as though it is dancing freely against a bright blue sky.

There’s something exciting about greeting each other with “Show Time!” at a yarn show as the gates open and the customers stream in. So much has to happen before then… pack the cars to the brim, travel, unload, set up, flop into bed, tweak the dispay the next day…and then we are ready for the show to begin.

There is real joy in talking to people for whole days at a time, that I don’t think I had ever really considered before becoming involved in yarn shows. So many different conversations can happen because there are so many different people, and I am there for them all. This time I only had two yarn related questions that stumped me so I must have learned quite a bit along the way. There were also lovely conversations with people about poetry and I met a lovely person called Ali who made my day with her interest in my writing. I also thoroughly enjoyed talking about ‘Gnarly Roots’, the new cowl pattern that Kath has designed, and my modelling of the forthcoming ‘Sugar Loaf’ cardigan. Show Time was Good Time.

There has been much joy in written words this week too: I received a wonderful compliment about my new book, a great testimonial for my coaching, and a super thank you for some writing I had done. These are all nicely balancing in the world.

There has also been the thinking out loud of supervision as part of my coaching work. There is much to reflect on when developing a new skill and I love the kind of deep learning that comes by being part of a supervision group.  It is good to do thinking from different angles, and I also revisited Brené Brown’s work this week and remembered the power of “the story I am telling myself is”. This can be really helpful to me when I start to feel myself overthinking.

So all in all, this whole week has felt new because I have done many things that I did not imagine that I would be doing a year ago. I knew I would be doing something different, but there was only a hazy view beyond the vivid need to pause what I had been doing for years. And perhaps foggy is a better word. It felt good to be pressing the stop button and changing direction, but definitely scary too. So here’s to formulating plans and trusting in the vision and taking those steady steps along different paths. The view is good and it feels rather like walking a coastline because there’s something different around each corner. Fond memories here of Guernsey walks where being on the edge is freeing and the view changes and delights along the way.

It seems apt to select a poem from my ’14 Lines’ project from my MA at this point. It’s called ‘Fermain Bay’, and my lovely friend Julie read this for me at the actual spot and sent me the video. The purpose of the project was for me to develop my confidence in sharing my poems and to compare my readings with those of wonderful people who supported me in this. It was a good project and when I read my new poems in real life to launch ‘Welcome to the Museum of a Life’ I will take a moment to remember just how far I have come with determination and excellent cheering on from lovely people.

Later today I will be at a different coast and will see the sea at Llandudno, but first here’s the poem:

Fermain Bay

Layered in the water among the blues,

mixed with dense pine green,

there is a deeper turquoise

than we even wished for.

Streaked with the purple of pansies

it tempts us from the cliff top path –

says, paint me.

But first we must go and float and swim there.

Our land-life is made real as, sun warmed,

we sit on the stone wall to dry.

Salt has painted our lips,

hairs are tightening on our arms,

and time is marked only

by the rhythm of waves.

Add Value Bring Joy

This morning I have scented the world. It is salted vinegar on moss. At the weekend I bought myself a wire brush and some organic cleaner to help remove the moss from the driveway and the smell is in the air. It was quite therapeutic to see what could be removed by hand, and to realise how much mud collects in the grooves to let the moss grow. The mud gives the same scent as beach mud when I disturb it and it needs to go because it makes the surface slippery after rain. Once I was hit on the head by a cake tin because of moss and mud. I had got out of the car from visiting a friend and was bringing back an empty tin when I slipped and landed flat on my back. I must have closed my eyes at the sudden shock and when I opened them to concentrate on whether or not I was hurt I saw the tin just before it hit my forehead. It was quite a good comedy moment that had no real audience.

Alt text thinks this week’s photo is a person holding a card, but I say it is me, by the pink camelia with my new ‘ADD VALUE BRING JOY’ t-shirt holding a copy of my new book ‘Welcome to the Museum of a Life’. I bought the t-shirt because I wanted something that was definitely ‘me’ to wear for the forthcoming book launch, and I wanted to try it on as soon as it arrived. That’s a nice feeling. It comes from Jaz Ampaw-Farr’s merchandise and is one of her ‘t-shirts of truth’.  I heard Jaz speak many moons ago, but she is one of those people that once heard is never forgotten. Jaz herself says: “I make audiences laugh, cry and leave on a high.” and that was exactly what I experienced. I love it when someone’s story resonates.

I don’t always like having my photo taken, but I am embracing the fact that I do like capturing moments and therefore it’s actually good to have photos taken! I even offered to be the model for Kath’s Sugar Loaf Cardigan and did not one but two goes at getting some helpful pictures. It’s a great cardigan, but it won’t be part of my daywear!

There was joy this week in a peppermint tea… I texted a friend on the off chance they could meet up for a catch-up and got the reply “definitely”… that one word made my heart sing just when I needed it to have a song.

Thinking out loud with my coach has helped me to recognise the things that I want to say yes to and get going with stuff. I still have moments of doubt, but they are diminishing and responding well to “What’s the worst that can happen?”  

So I am planning a set list for my in-person book launch and whether the audience is small or large I am doing it and airing my words. I am readying a creative workshop for adults and excited to see how the first one goes. Oh, and there was learning from this because there is a me that then decides that having written one workshop I had better have another one up my sleeve in case it goes well. There is a definite version of myself that likes to be prepared ahead of time. However, for the first time last week I fitted things in before an appointment and arrived exactly on time instead of early and it felt rather splendid to have focused on more than one thing even though I had an appointment. Just gently pushing myself and who knows where this can take me!

Here’s to words and shared time. I will leave you today with “WHEN I SAW JESUS IN A TOMATO”. It came to mind yesterday when I saw a mattress in a skip and was transported back to the time when I was young and there was a mattress in the back garden waiting to be taken to the tip and I would look forward to going out there each morning and running straight at it to feel the rebound. There’s no mattress in this poem, but it does come from being a child and being lost in the moment…

When I Saw Jesus in a Tomato

I was at my nan’s

and there he was

rocking to steadiness

in a halved tomato

next to a rough cuboid of cheese.

When I showed her, she nodded

murmured affirmation

but I wonder did she really see him?

Maybe her eyes were like mine are now.

I ate him;

he was a woody version of grass.

I swallowed him hard

not wanting him to get stuck

in my throat.

No phones then to capture the moment

only a headline in my mind.

When I returned home, I told my mum

what I’d witnessed.

I think perhaps she thought I was lying

or had conjured him from my imagination.

Months later, I worried them all:

nan, grandad, mum, brother.

Quick spit it out,

Get it out of her mouth! I heard

as the grown-ups stood in horror.

They’d watched me

bite through the first glass

I had ever been allowed to use.

All I knew was

I had been staring at the new wallpaper

making crucifixes from the repeating squares.

A Statue of a Moose with Donuts on it

Today the air carries the sweet scent of rose petals. I see magnolia flowers, daffodils, cowslips and primroses, but sense roses.

Today’s blog title is gifted to me by alt text and I wonder if I will one day photograph the moose with doughnuts on its antlers. This photograph was my ‘Eat the Storms’ photo for the most recent episode and I thoroughly enjoyed those two party rings (and the rest of the mini packet) after spending a good chunk of the day in the garden.

So not only does Damien B Donnelly give me Saturday tea time back each week with the wonderful podcast of poetry and interviews he also gives me the audio for this week. Because it is launch day for ‘Welcome to the Museum of a Life’ I have decided to include here a taster from each of the five galleries via the reading I did for my recent spot on Eat the Storms. I hope you will enjoy listening along. Listening Link via Podbean.

A Collage of a Person and a Pizza

Singing as the Darkness Lifts, Episode 31

I am a really good listener and this past week I have listened to myself a lot. I have listened to the wonderful silence that exists in my head when I am in the rhythm of a long drive and also found some of my procrastination and impatience quite amusing. 

During the middle of the week I felt like I wanted to see fitness results from the walking I wasn’t doing. ‘Just start’ or ‘crack on then’ usually works for me when I am stuck, but it didn’t get me out and walking very much this week! I was ignoring myself and ignoring the fact that I know it feels really good when I get cracking!

It took me until Sunday to sort out my thoughts on walking, when I realised I had walked a proper walk the previous Sunday and if I did it again then I was effectively establishing a new habit! I found I could even picture walk three and therefore the real embedding of this new habit. I had found my way in and was motivated. Prior to this my demotivation seemed to come from having put on a bit of weight and then not walking properly each day. I slumped! But now I am two Sundays in because I put a new slant on it and got on with it. My new app that reminds me to ‘close my circle’ indicates to me that I have now achieved that. I have three apps to help me view my walking habits, and they are currently playing a role in holding me accountable so I shall keep them for now. I quite like the idea of having my walking routes sorted and being in the flow without the technology, but hey someone designed them well and they are a help while I crack on.

I love being in the flow of something. It makes me feel completely real. Recently it has been in the silence of a motorway drive and when I am hearing and feeling the rhythm of my steps on a walk. Such a positive benefit of silence. Different from the silence in some of my poems and different from the silence which some people will experience today for the eclipse. I have one particularly vivid memory of standing outside for an eclipse. It was eery to feel the temperature fall and to be aware that all the sounds of the birds had suddenly just dropped away. It was a huge grey shiver.

‘Welcome to the Museum of a Life’ held a working title of ‘Silence’ in its early draft and I am really pleased that it evolved away from this with the help of good editing because my immersion in silence has altered over time. The book itself is due out a week today which feels exciting and then I get to plan a set list for its launch. I will be visiting Script Haven in Worcester in May for this so if you are local and can make time for this I would be delighted to see you there. It’s a lovely place and I know Ronnie will enjoy having his photo taken with Elgar who is statued just outside. If you are not local and want to come along then there will be a zoom link, again it would be lovely to see you. I will share links from my publisher soon.

This week’s blog title was gifted to me by ALT Text. If I had titled it based on the photo I chose then it might be called ‘Me, My Wife, My Pizza and Three Blue Apples’. These are all things that have brought me joy this week and they are therefore well worth celebrating. We even think that the staff in the pizza restaurant might have played an Indigo Girls song and a bit of k.d. lang for us on purpose, and whether this was the case or whether it was just coincidence it made us smile. It’s good to smile.

I will leave you today with my eclipse poem:

CASTING SHADOWS

The day greys and yellows around us

stops the birds singing.

We feel the tightness of this new silence

as the air cools rapidly.

We know not to stare 

so I am holding a colander to the sun

casting shadows on the ground.

So many tiny solar bodies eclipsing, emerging.

A photograph to capture the day

to remember we were alive

we saw it.

I fear it will be too small

but when you show me

I am holding that eclipse in the palm of my hand.

Study in Blue

Singing as the Darkness Lifts, Episode 30

 

Today my brain tells me the air carries the smell of acorns. I do not think I actually know what acorns smell like so this makes me temporarily confused. I settle for the fact that it smells green in some way on this rainy morning where the clocks have recently changed.

ALT TEXT tells me it thinks this week’s photo is, ‘a close up of a ring on the ground’. But really it is the most recent of my #ElasticBandPhotos and I call it ‘Study in Blue’ (A discarded elastic band on the ground is twisted in rounds and there are blue stones in the pavement.)

The photo was taken during my recent trip to Herne Bay. I wanted to be able to share elevenses with my mum on her birthday and share family time. There was time to do some good catching up while I was there and lovely walks by the sea too. It always amazes me how much can be packed into a couple of days. There was laughter with the nieces and nephews, a sisters plan to watch the sunrise on Snowdon, a shadow photo, ice-cream, tea with good friends.

I have a satnav, but I still asked Kath to write the roads down for me because it felt like a long time since I went down. I remember times in my past on different journeys where I have missed exits, but it is not something that has happened to me recently. The most vivid memory was when I nearly drove the wrong way through traffic lights and then found myself on the edge of London instead of on the correct road to Guildford! When I rang my dad he could tell me exactly where I was and what I would see when I kept driving. He then came to meet me so I could follow him the rest of the way. This seemed like a magical ability of his to me. Both he and Kath can talk in roads whereas I find this quite difficult. My brain has to do a lot of talking to itself to when I see M1 north and M1 south as choices because I need to remember which way I am going! I am pleased to report, I do know the way and can trust the satnav. Very grateful to have a kind and patient wife too though!

I have a year to get my legs Snowdon ready which will be really good motivation for my walking. I will treat myself to a new pair of walking socks nearer the time, and will enjoy wearing out my old ones for the time being.

As I write this it is April Fools Day and it feels like the right time to confess that I was fooled for one of my elastic band photos. Reader, a hairband crept into the book ‘Vortex Over Wave’! I have two pairs of glasses now, but when I took the photo on The Great Orme some months ago my eyes were tricked. It took me until recently when I was flicking through the book again to see it, and I thought I should acknowledge it.

I enjoyed recording ‘Unwanted Rabbits’ as my new poem for the month on my YouTube Channel and love making sure that it sounds like it sounds in my head when I get it ready for sharing. I wasn’t a ‘one take Sue’ for this one and had to make sure I had a pint of water on hand to get hydrated before I could set it down! Thank you for taking time with my words. I do have one more rabbit poem that is looking for a home so I do hope to be able to share that in the not too distant future when it has found its place in the world.

The Night I turned into a Metal Spoon

Singing as the Darkness Lifts, Episode 29

This morning the air smells clean and fresh, it is raining and there is no hint of petrichor. I smile because although I am not totally specific about the smell my senses are alive.

Last week I could not determine the scent and I blamed the cold virus for affecting my sense of smell. I also now blame it for turning me into a metal spoon during the week. It was an interesting dream and wonderfully vivid… temporarily I was a human-sized spoon heading for the centre of the earth. Sometimes when I wake up after a dream the images disappear quite rapidly, but I can definitely still picture this one! Perhaps the way my head concaved into the bowl of the spoon might make its way into a poem. It might be a good prose poem!

So the week started at a slow pace because I had to wait for the sneezing to stop and then unsnuffle myself. I loved it when my sister rang and asked me if I was resting and staying hydrated because that’s what I always tell her to do when she is under the weather. It was lovely to hear my advice in a different voice and I did indeed follow it. If you listened to last week’s blog you probably noticed I was a bit snuffly, but I decided I still wanted to set it down because I wanted to remain committed to what I had planned to do with the blog and podcast. It feels important to me right now to be a completer!

I enjoyed regaining my sense of taste and smell and it reminded me of the strange things that happened to my senses after I had covid. I felt really unwell when I had it, but was rather entertained when I felt better and noticed that pints of water tasted like double cream, parsnips no longer tasted nice, and sometimes when I stood up I felt as though I had drunk half a bottle of champagne. Sometimes even now water tastes creamy and I wonder why this is.

For Eat the Storms this week Damien Donnelly shared work from The Whiskey Tree’s Untamed Nature collection. I loved listening in because I had not been able to make the zoom launch and I always enjoy listening to how the poems sound in the authentic voices of their writers. The interview with Alan Parry was good too. I love hearing about people’s journeys into writing and finding out what resonates with them.

I also got to hear Susan Richardson read my poem ‘Silence’ on the Thousand Shades of Green poetry podcast finale for Season 2 on Friday. This podcast is the perfect length to accompany a tea break or in my case on Friday a water break. I like to make sure I am hydrated and was reminded of why water should be my choice when I got the judders from taking decongestants with caffeine in them this week. The caffeine is handy when you need a boost, but it still has potential to make me think too fast and reminds me of the time I got myself a long lasting stutter on the letter t in an assembly one morning after too much strong coffee. Almost as impressive as the time I was asked in the Post Office what I was posting and I stumbled on, “It’s a, it’s a, it’s a” before being able to complete my sentence. Hearing Silence read was powerful for me as I think I mentioned last week that my relationship with silence has altered in the past six months. I am grateful to One Hand Clapping for giving the poem its original home, Susan for voicing it so I could listen and to Black Eyes for including it in my forthcoming collection.

Alt text describes this week’s photo as, “A shadow of two people on a road”. I don’t have anything to add except there is a marking on the ground that could be seen as a seam or a zip between the two people. I do love a shadow photo!

I leave you today with a poem about moles that almost wanted a home in my second collection, but just deserves a little outing all of its own…

LEARNING ABOUT MOLES

After thumbs had numbed

and tongues cooled

on hot days between school and bus

we ended our eating of ice pops

in different ways.

She curled the plastic over and over

and sucked,

drawing the last of the liquid up

towards the opening

scissored by the sweetshop man.

Perhaps like her mother

turning the toothpaste tube tighter and tighter.

I preferred head back,

eyes closed against the sky,

a peristaltic squeeze

until the sweet trickle

became just a few more drops.

Now I learn that moles squeeze the mud

from earthworms before they eat them.

But do they suck them up from tunnel floors

or blind-eyed catch them dangling?

A Blue Apple and An Ammonite

Podbean Link for those who like to listen

This morning I cannot determine what scents are in the air. I have a cold and am temporarily blocked from my observations of smell. It feels a bit strange to not be able to notice so do let me know what the air smells like where you are!

When I was little my brother would let me in to his museum for a small pocket money fee. I liked looking at the shells and fossils and interesting finds he had gathered together there in his attic bedroom. He knew stuff about the exhibits. I liked the way they were laid out and the textures and shapes. I also liked spending time in his company and finding out what was new. Amongst the sharks’ teeth I think there was also a large dinosaur tooth of some kind. I remember the shine of the fool’s gold and of the mercury which we rolled across the lino to one another.

On Saturday I enjoyed the feeling of empowerment of singing with the local community choir, which I have recently joined. There are people there who can put in all ‘the twiddly bits’, and there was also me owning the words, “l’m not scared to be seen, I make no apologies, this is me.” (I still make sure I don’t try to sing the high bits I am not capable of, but I am right there with the rest of it! My grandad loved ‘Somewhere over the Rainbow’ and I thought of him instead of worrying about how out of my register the ‘where’ bit seems and just stayed immersed in the sounds of those that can sing that bit well!)

This week’s picture brings me great joy and it means the release of my new book is soon. It is the cover of my forthcoming second collection of poetry and it evolved from an idea presented to me by my editor, Josephine, on one of our zoom meetings and I love it. Jason Conway then took the idea and turned it into the cover. It looks good, and although of course one shouldn’t judge a book by its cover I am happy for any potential readers to begin to make an assumption based on this one! ALT TEXT tells me this is “A book cover with a blue apple in a spiral”. I say it makes me feel very proud to see it.

Five galleries, featuring plenty of exhibits, await readers and I look forward to hearing what people think.

The back cover blurbs bring me joy. Having done a few myself now I can see this from both sides and I love that people have taken time to do this for me and my words.

Helen Ivory says: ‘Sue Finch’s voice is both steady and questioning as she sets down the archive of her life museum and invites you to lean in for a closer look. Each exhibit feels like a very personal and off-kilter chronicle of a collective memory where wolves and silence stand with their backs to the corners of the theatrical space of a museum cabinet in which Smurfs and giraffes have walk-on parts. And it’s well worth imagining the gift shop – that unsettling pelican’s disco moves stencilled on a tea towel; a postcard steeped in the metal taste of the narrator’s own blood.’

Damien B Donnelly says: ‘Ponds, pitfalls, pandemics, peacocks, pelicans and funeral preparations. On view in Sue Finch’s second collection is a kaleidoscope of memory, moments, fears and desires, curated in a lyrical museum with spotlights on circus tents, taxidermy tables, distant dreams and swirling nightmares. The recollections are residues on the tip of the tongue, the names of each already faded, fallen or pulled like the pelt from the flesh with only a metallic tang left in its wake and the future is a disco very deep in the woods with tunes yet to be identified. This is a Daliesque ramble through the gardens of life, an asymmetrical, syncopated joyride. Welcome to the Museum of a Life is triumphant with its directions, distractions and dancing Deathwatch Beetles. Buy a ticket in advance to spare yourself the disappointment of this museum being sold out!’

And Ivor Daniel says: ‘At once mindful and surreal, these poems take us on a journey through the Museum of a Life, passing from childhood, through vivid everyday events, to love and dreams, and to considerations of mortality. The intriguing exhibits include the small but profound miracle of a tortoise waking from hibernation, the revelation of night skies in the armpits of a lover, a poet rescuing a giraffe after an earthquake, a dancing pelican and other such wonders. Like all the best museums, this one does not have too many rules, and we can walk amongst and interact with the poems at will. Sue Finch welcomes us into a world of multisensory surround sound. Unsentimental yet tender, this collection is an original and imaginative celebration of the temporary treasures of life, and of the human condition.’

My one to one work with people as a coach is beginning to give me testimonials which seems to me a bit like having blurbs about oneself. I like this idea. If you have ever wondered what it is like to be coached by me then do keep an eye on my website to see what others think. I have set out there what I know I provide, but I am sure you will enjoy reading what other people have to say too!

When I am selecting a new book I look at the cover, read the blurbs and then take a peek inside. Is that what you do? When I know I love the author’s work already I just cannot wait to read their new stuff and if I get a taster beforehand then that’s super cool! Which brings me to ask… Have you seen the cover for the new Caroline Bird collection, AMBUSH AT STILL LAKE? It’s a cracker. Loving the anticipation of waiting for that one.

I will leave you today with the news that my ‘Unwanted Rabbits’ found a good home at The Broken Spine

Unwanted Rabbits

I have fitted forty-two of them

into the bottom of magicians’ hats

thrown in some dandelion leaves to keep them going

while they wait to be pulled free.

I took the ten largest ones to the field behind the supermarket

where they can fend for themselves

and do a bit of breeding.

The ones that have been thump, thump,

thumping out the loudest warnings

I am going to take to the top of the cliffs

to make burrows.

I imagine them echoing out announcements

for the Northern Lights,

becoming famous

for being able to predict the arrival of that electromagnetism.

The pure white one with a serene smile

is on a lead tied to the fence post

because its eyes are different colours –

one red and one blue.

I am planning to make it

part of a fortune telling act.

The tiny ones look like they would sell well,

but I am not sure how I feel

about making ‘For Sale’ signs for bunnies. 

I imagine the tender ones skinned on trays

in a butcher’s window

with a price per pound notice

written in red ink.

Perhaps I should never have asked

how many unwanted rabbits there actually were.

And yes, I admit it, I did ask,

but please bear in mind

I didn’t ever mention I needed living proof.

These rabbits have been turning up

on my front doorstep for days now

and I am almost out of ideas.