Animated short story: The Nest Apprentice

A short story inspired by a dream, animated by my son Ezra.

Mark playing two pieces from his Londonia Suite

Composed for the Londonia Book Launch

Hoxton Radio interview

Well, with a name like that they had to interview a Londoner whose novel features a leading character with the same name.

The interview went out last night and although I listened waiting to cringe somewhat it was really okay. Jordan Scudder (could also have been a character in my book with such a name) was an excellent interviewer, making me feel totally relaxed - good preparation for appearing on Woman's Hour/ desert Island discs... one can dream.

The only tricky point was when he asked me on the spot for a record that would have relevance to Londonia. Complete blank and then thought of about fifty possibilities three minutes after the interview had finished. Anyway, oddly this does make me think of the book, so my sub-conscious must have taken over, which it often does in my writing process.

Great video too.

In celebration of trees

This wet spring (for here) has seen a proliferation of foliage and blossom I can't recall ever being quite so lush. Or maybe it's just nature noticing that humans have been put firmly in the background for a while - possibly longer/for ever... middle finger well and truly jabbed upwards to our destructive race.
As a committed tree hugger/tree admirer I was happy, very happy to hear that Mark (husband) was writing a music accompaniment to an excellent reading of 'The man who planted trees' or, in its original French, l'homme qui plantait des arbres'. The result is touching and beautiful, and the message of the story so utterly relevant for all times, particularly now.
https://wrigglypig.bandcamp.com/track/lhomme-qui-plantait-des-arbres-part-1
https://wrigglypig.bandcamp.com/track/lhomme-qui-plantait-des-arbres-part-2



                     A lone, and happy pine on top of the 'pic de Brau' near our town

Todays allowed-out walk

A grey day. Suburbia beckoned. Not that we have much of one, but there are some fine examples of 1920s/30s and 50s housing estate architecture on the outskirts of the town.
Setting our phone apps to a slightly later time as we would be unlikely to meet a policebod until reaching the main town area we set off along one of the oldest roads of Limoux (la Petite Ville), past the hospital, along the river for a while, across the Rue Oscar Rouge and into the area of mostly 50s and 70s housing.
After crossing the river we tried to follow a rather overgrown path along the banks and had to stop where tree debris from the January floods blocked the way. Walked back, and into town which was almost deserted, apart from a few brave shoppers wearing surgical masks. We've lived in this town for about eighteen years now and I can't recall a single day when most of the cafés and at least one bread shop was open, even on Christmas Day.



Yesterday's walk



You looking' at me...



A detail I have stopped to look at many times over the years. I just love the care that someone has taken to sculpt the stone to enable key turning



Mark reminded me of the fable that you should never sleep under an elderflower as you might never wake up such are its soporific properties...

         

One of 'the music houses'

        

               Random art piece



                               Reminder of the river's January height

                           

                                                              The overgrown path



                            Spring fashions in rural Southern France. 

Live reading from my novel, Londonia.

An extract in which our heroine, Hoxton, visits a 'shouting house' (auction rooms circa 2072) to seek a requested Ikea cabinet.

Conceptual art walk

sort of...

At the time for the communal family walk this morning - a series of deep-exploration of our town and surroundings, within the allowed kilometre radius (slight cheat from time to time) - no one could make a decision on which direction to start from. No problem. Bag of cut up paper each piece marked with: Left or Right, or Straight On.
So, left out of the gate, up the deserted road, left at a 'crossroads' (choice of continuing the road, or one of two paths). Then we got distracted by a not-previously noticed path and ignored the bit of paper's instruction of 'right'. Short-lived art piece but new views, plants and possible other routes observed. To be continued... or not. Probably not.



Left out of the gate



choosing (reluctantly) the next bit of paper - Mum, do we have to do this...)







Next turn



Left and up the hill



new view of the town