Friday, a missing day, the only thing that happened was my autumn COVID booster jab done at a local Boots. No fuss, straight in, a few questions and then a rapid jab. I was sent off into the distance with a warning not to drive for 15 minutes. I ignored that and drove home with my supplies to cook our quests meal tomorrow. England lose 1-o to Italy in the evening.
Saturday and a busy day ahead so I am up early for coffee and meds. I then spend my morning beavering away in the kitchen. There is a beef Bourguignon to get into the crockpot for the next nine hours and the ingredients of couscous stuffed beef tomatoes to get ready. By lunch time the Bourguignon is slowly cooking and the stuffed tomatoes ready to pop into the oven. I add a Quinnel of Greek yoghurt and decorative strawberry to the strawberry prosecco jellies that I made the night before and return them to them to the fridge.
I have a little time to prepare for my initial meeting of the Leicestershire poetry Stanza. I print off the remaining poems and arrange them in the presentation order that has come through by email from the convenor. I settle down to read the through one last time. I definitely have favourites. Two o’clock arrives and I log in on zoom. I find myself with a screen full of unknown new people. No says hello or introduces themselves and no one asks me anything about me. So this is how adults in the real world conduct themselves, interesting. The Stanza starts. Someone reads a poem, not the author, and then everyone makes comments about it. Its cear there are the emotional responders and then there are the “academic” ones. I learn very quickly that there is a poetry vocabulary which is indicative of ones knowledge. A sort of “in speak” of nods and winks to a “higher” understanding of the art of poetry. I’m tempted to leave but decide I am going to stickit out. I am third poem in. Someone reads my poem adn i have to sit silently while the others talk about it. In general, they are kind and make useful comments and pose one or two interesting questions. Why do I start every line with a capital? Good question, I think its habit. Once they have finished, I thank them for their feedback and fill in some of the gaps as way of explaining the root of the poem. I thank them for being kind on my first time of receiving such criticism live for the first time. We move on and I feel emboldened enough to make a comment about someone else’s poem. I’m on a roll and opt to read a poem. It’s the one that gave me the greatest buzz when I first read it. It struck me as a performance piece, and I thought I could do it justice. It was written by the guy who made it clear at the start that he did not want to read his own as he is dyslexic, so I figured a bit of dyslexia comradery was in order. I enjoyed reading the poem and joined in the debate. The poet seemed to be happy with my reading of his poem. We break for a coffee and then we are back in rhythm reading, commenting and moving on. The end arrives and it’s a quick goodbye, see you next time and the host ended the session. I survived and I am left with all sorts of impressions of the participants. I notice I am the only one that used a “wallpaper” on the zoom feed. The majority of them were clearly siting in lounges or offices with the walls full of books. Interestingly the obvious exception was my fellow dyslexic who just happened to be the only black guy in the group. Perhaps next time I might take a bit more of a risk with what I give them to consider.
Once free of the Stanza I am quickly back into cook mode. I prepare the table and retrieve my prepared dishes. Our guest’s message to say they are slightly delayed, so I retime my cooking schedule and then I wait for them to arrive. They arrive in due course, and we sit and nibble and drink until the first course is ready. We begin the meal and conversation starts in earnest. We eat our way through starter, main, sweet, cheese and biscuits followed by coffee with mints and chocolates. We talk and exchange experiences till almost midnight, the time has flown and it’s been a real pleasure to have spent time so convivially. We wave our guests off into the night and then my partner and I load the dishwasher and sleepily go to bed. I forget to take my meds.
Sunday. I wake up feeling quite good, no bad gut and feeling quite emotionally plump, I must leave out the night meds more often. I make clear away the last of the previous night’s debris and make drinks for myself and partner before returning to bed. We check out how we are after last night and then get up to have breakfast before face timing our youngest daughter. I check the hedgehog canteen adn find the food has gone. Cat or Hedgehog? I refill the food dish and then check the garden camera. There are pictures of the hog but there is no clear evidence of who is eating the food. My partner goes to the gym and then I settle down to catch up drafting the blog before indulging in a televised rugby match. It’s a good match and is worth the time. I do a bit of tidying and do a couple of crosswords before settling into my evening of food (re remains of yesterday’s evening meal) and then I will settle down to a quiet evening of TV catch up and reading.
