An invasion of Wiggalls! (by sarah)

Yes Wiggalls not wiggly pets but Wiggalls, also spelt Wiggle and Wiggill. Every few years this extended family has a reunion and descends upon Cranham where some of the oldest records of the family show they live in the 1700 and 1800's. One of the properties they are thought to have lived at was Suttons Mill (the other building here where Alaric's aunt Barbara lives).

The records say treat with caution though and it is only definatly known that the Wiggall in question was a Miller in Cranham but the family still came to have a look around on Saturday afternoon.

I put on Tea, Coffee, squash and buiscuits for them - Barbara had triple booked herself for Saturday as she had an Opera in Cardiff and hadn't realised what time she had to be where. She did provide the posher buscuits mind!

We had known about the Wiggalls visit but had thought there would be about 12 people coming for tea and cake - instead Saturday morning I took a chocolate cake over to Barbara's to feed the horde when she a) announced she had forgotten about them and we needed to go and greet them at the village hall at 1 o'clock (Al wasn't due back from London until 2 as thats when she said they would be coming and b) that there were 100 American Wiggalls descending upon us expecting a historical tour of the place!!!! And me being me I went EEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeekkkkkkkkkkkkk!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

But at 1 o'clock I discovered that there were only 50 of them this year and not all of them would be coming - relief! There was also a lovely buffet lunch set which we were apparently invited too but Barbara couldn't hang around so I alas had to go.

The Wiggalls arrived and at the Mill at about 4 o'clock after saying they'd be here at 3! the photographer was late 🙂 They all seemed to enjoy the bits and bobs about the Mill that we could remember. And of course my piece de la resistonce - the Roman Urinal - I was thinking I should have had the photo of it out.

They took lots of photo's and signed the guest book and even bought Wiggle Pets 🙂 I should have brought out the post cards as they feature Wiggly Pets and bits of the Mill and garden but never mind! There was a little girl a bit younger than Jean with them so Jean had a great time showing her the slide - though it is wet!

Jean had got very excited about it all and had been abit confussed that the Wiggalls were going to be humans - she thought they were either giant wiggly pets, that band that sings Ferfer-esk songs, or dancing worms (I'm serious!).

They were all really nice and we even managed to end up in a discussion about metal work with some of them 🙂 They are from all over the place New Zealand, Australia, South Africa, America, Ireland and off course various local places round here!

They have demanded that we look after the place and mantian it or we will have the Wiggall clan down upon our heads! 🙂

It was a really nice afternoon once I stopped stressing about the fact they were coming. They signed the guest book and my events book - there were lots of previous entries for them in the Mills guestbook which was interesting 🙂

Kitten Cam! (by sarah)

There is not only a blog but now a Kitten Cam with live feed of the cute little furies! Alaric has already had to cut the home LAN in order to get me to stop watching them!

http://www.ustream.tv/channel/KittensGalore

Seagulls (by sarah)

More hospital poetry

Seagulls

Soaring, roosting, perching

Above, in, on

Hospital peaks

City stretching

Inside Self

Fully contained

But the seagulls

Show hills

Disappearing mist

Blankets - clouds

Blue sky peeps

Monolith old

Religious relic

Dominates domiciles - weak

Hills wrap landscape

Steel giants

March endless

Communication

Gulls wings black - white

Strip

Eyes look

Me - glass cage

Concrete prison

Needles sharpe

Machines bleep

Time stretched

Monotony baige

Tread bare blanket

Yellow, Blue, Teal

Beyond flight

Trees puffed

Green, red luminous

Spring summer

Calling

Trapped, tagged

Stare

Seagulls, swallows

Night crisp air

Window ajar

My world

I am somehow there

First Class (by alaric)

Once a week, I go to London for a few days, almost always by train. It costs £42 if I buy a ticket from the station on the day - or, if I book in advance at TheTrainLine, as little as £16. Tickets ordered in advance are cheaper, but it seems there is a limited allocation of each price grade - as the more popular routes quickly sell out of £8 each way tickets, then the next level up (£11.50), then the next level up (£18).

However, when I booked the tickets for last week, for the return journey on Saturday, only the £18 ones remained - but, unusually, there were still some £19.50 first class tickets left.

I'd never travelled first class before. So, I decided I'd give it a try. £1.50 isn't much to spend on an experiment.

And my conclusion is: first class equals a comfier seat and the offer of a free biscuit and tea or coffee.

Which, if I drank hot drinks, would definitely be worth the extra one fifty, at the going rate for such things.

As a non-hot-drinker, I think I about broke even with my experiment, but on a journey of more than an hour, the better seat would be well worth a similarly small price increase.

But travelling first class is nowhere near worth the more than doubling in price (£116 rather than £42) it costs if you buy your ticket on the day. That's a total ripoff.

Twitter Poetry (by sarah)

I have found a home for all those tacky rhymes I came up with about everyday stuff - and that is twitter. I started typing the poems into tweets and found that there is actually a communitee of poeple tweeting poetry which is interesting - Ella who has just joined pointed out that it was something that occured to her straight away although she was thinking hikus not the tacky dross I produce.

Mainly they are the sort of thing I make up to entertain Jean but I am chuffed that one of them has been pilfered (with credit mind!) onto my friends blog - I just couldn't resist making something up about the cat who had too many kittens (and yes I am going to keep on about baby animals - between pregnant cats and guinea pigs and people I seem to be surrounded by an over load of cuteness at the mo!).

Poetry is the one thing that I have had published multiple times - I think actual anthologies/peotry collections that have a poem (one has two in) from me is now at 4 and then a couple in newspapers (nationals 🙂 ). I haven't actually sent any poetry off for a long time last attempt was Myslexia which was a no go though I got a lovely letter from them.

I have been submitting short stories but have found this a bit of a struggle as the stories want to expand them selves into novals and this has obviously been evident in that the responses I've been getting are 'we loved the imagery and the characters but it needed to be a longer story it read in places like a summary' etc...

I'm taking the fact that people are responding positively about the writing even thought it is ultimatly a regection as a good thing?

Poetry quiet frankly doesn't pay enough for me to pay out the postage costs and the like. I have been unable to go to many poetry readings since christmas becuase of my course and stuff but found that was far more rewarding - plus I was reading it out so didn't have to worry about the spellings and gramma - I know what its supposed to sound like so that is how I read it.

Most of my poetry is also niche - it is sciencetific/technical so arty peeps tend to not understand what the poem is actually about and the science peeps go - why are you writing the concept in an unclear way? Sigh.

Short stories just quiet frankly don't want to be short - I am thinking that I need to face the fact that I am a novel writer. This is a bit depressing as when I was writing the Drs Wife I was obsessed with it and could not leave it alone - I have perposly not started another noval becuase of this - for a start I have seen 0 back for the invested time - I hope purely becuase I wrote the whole thing in long hand and have only typed up the first 30, 000 words! That was all pre-flood and I haven't typed up a single word of it since which is disgraceful - its a short novel at 85,000 words approximatly - obviously this is a guestimate I have avearged words on lines etc... I did this for all the different note books its in and there are alot of them :/

But why am I writing about writing again? I am concidering my future yet again - if I am just stressed out then I need to think about academia seriously thats if I can go back after ending up in hosptial a second time on them :(. The same goes for business plans - stomach ulcers and IBS are both apparently acted up by stress so I need to actually look at my life and not fall apart.

I want to achive something with my life but writing is a gamble - especially as I can not spell for toffee and I do try (well most of the time my blog posts on here are a bit erm... I just want to write what I'm thinking and send it live and so is often not spell checked). The spelling is my bottle neck - I have missed submission deadlines waiting for people to spell check things for me which is frustrating and not their fualt they are busy people and there's no way I can pay for proper proof reading at least on shorts.

This has turned into a bit of a ramble hasn't it?