Welcome to justthoughtsnstuff

I started posting to jtns on 20 February 2010 with just one word, 'Mosaic'. This seemed an appropriate introduction to a blog that would juxtapose fragments of memoir and life-writing. Since 1996, I'd been coming to terms with the consequences of emotional and economic abuse that had begun in childhood, and which, amongst other things, had sought to stifle self-expression. While I'd explored some aspects of my life through fiction and, to a lesser extent, journalism, it was only in 2010 that I felt confident enough to write openly about myself. I believed this was an important part of the healing process. Yet within weeks, the final scenes of my family's fifty-year nightmare started to play themselves out and the purpose of the blog became one of survival through writing. Although some posts are about my family's suffering - most explicitly, Life-Writing Talk, with Reference to Trust: A family story - the majority are about happier subjects (including, Bampton in rural west Oxfordshire, where I live, Oxford, where I work, the seasons and the countryside, walking and cycling) and I hope that these, together with their accompanying photos, are enjoyable and positive. Note: In February 2020, on jtns' tenth birthday, I stopped posting to this blog. It is now a contained work of life-writing about ten years of my life. Frank, 21 February 2020.

New blog: morethoughtsnstuff.com.

Tuesday 10 April 2012

sticky clay, sort out, flowering hedge, sunset boulevard















Attempts to fork through the potato strip on the allotment were thwarted by overnight rain. The clay soil was sticky when I went up there at 11 and more rain during the next hour put paid to gardening altogether.

Beautiful light though when the sun broke through, although the day never warmed up.

Went through carrier bags of papers which have been sitting under the bed for ages and found that most were hopelessly out of date and just gathering dust. Still quite a few bags left, even so, not to mention the ones under the spare bed.

Meanwhile, when I gave up gardening and took off on the bike, I found the recently laid hedge was flowering and in leaf--above. A strange sight, really, when you look at the bases of the stems and see that they're all nearly cut through.

Finished watching Sunset Boulevard--fantastic theatre and suspension of disbelief.

1 comment:

  1. Frank, I hope it is ok to comment, if occasionally. The blog reminds me so much of Ireland ... the hand made hedges, the wide open meadows and beautiful trees, the mists and morning light, the inevitable but necessary rain, and most importantly, the love for the land. I watched John B. Kean's 'The Field' last night. Chilling stuff, indeed. Orla.

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