Not lost!

Coffee Break
21/03/14
Photo by Diana Morrison

Well, it's been a long time coming but finally I'm back. This time, I really do mean to write something here every day! Yeah, yeah best laid plans and all that!

I've been writing, writing and writing for the past six months or maybe more. I think I've just about given up on the the short stories; I can't be succinct to save my life. Instead, I have been concentrating on my epic "Find the River" or possibly "Finding the River." It has been giving me hours of pleasure and distracting me from unpleasant things like housework! I am having to juggle it with the garden though!

Anyway, as I am no longer entering competitions, I am not having to worry about whether I'm allowed to have my entries on my blog. So I have updated my pages with my entire short story collection, such as it is!

Enjoy!

Displaced

Bodmin Moor, Cornwall

Picture by Diana Morrison 22-08-12

Everyone needs to know where they belong and I'm struggling with that now.

 I moved to Ireland from Cornwall eleven and half years ago. When we moved, the Celtic Tiger was roaring and the grass was definitely very green - even more so with the rose-tinted glasses that were firmly fixed to my face. My son was just shy of his third birthday, so he had not made any firm attachments to the UK. It was the perfect time to make the move to a land that seemed to be brimming with opportunity for both ourselves and him. Times were good in the early days. There seemed to be no shortage of work for Jonathan and he established himself as a first rate carpenter/joiner/cabinet maker very quickly. The education system seemed vastly superior to that in the UK and Sylvan thrived in his early years of school, mastering the Irish language with incredible ease. Sure, he had a bit of a turbulent time through bullying, but that was rectified with a change of school and bullying is not unique to Ireland. Time passed and we were content.

Castlehaven, West Cork

Picture by Diana Morrison 16-09-12

It seemed too good to last, and it was.

 Global recession struck and Ireland was hit very hard. The work that was always plentiful was more hard to come by, as ordinary people could no longer afford to replace their windows or commission pieces of fine furniture. Thankfully, the rich are still rich (and possibly getting richer) and there are still a few people (mainly British) in the area that are able to keep some work coming in for Jonathan but prices in the supermarket and utility bills soared and it is hard just to stay afloat. 

The biddable three year old is now a sulky teenager with an attitude somewhere between drama queen and rock star, and a passionate dislike of mornings and school!

I have been quietly contemplating a move back to Cornwall for a couple of years now. It's not really deserting the sinking ship, it's more a case of needing somewhere to belong and feel comfortable. This thought has been compounded more recently by the birth of my grandaughter and the longing to be closer to her mother, my step-daughter Bethany. It is now a dull ache that won't go away.

Unfortunately, Jonathan and Sylvan are not with me on this one. Sylvan has a great social life and has made a lot of friends that he would not give up easily. Jonathan says that he needs to be by the sea and that he thinks that he would miss Ireland too much, adding that I probably would too. He might be right and herein lies the feeling of displacement.

 I know that the Cornwall I left will not be the Cornwall I would return to. Our visits have always confirmed that. People I knew and loved have grown and moved on and the economy is not much better than it is here. Ireland is very beautiful and I love  it very much, but at the moment, it is stagnant and almost without hope. Most of her people have lost their  passion and fire and idly sit  back and let all the cuts and changes happen without much of a fight. Ireland has been known to have a second referendum on important issues because they didn't answer correctly in the first one! 

The dilemma will continue for me. All I know is this: The main reason for staying right now is for Sylvan to finish his education but if I have many more mornings like this one, I'll be on that ferry in a flash!

21st Century Prejudice

Picture of Pam and Len Watkins with their restored Reading Wagon

by Laurie Kinsley

Racial prejudice is alive, well and kicking in the UK. Whilst it is unlawful to discriminate against a person on the grounds of race, colour, nationality, citizenship or ethnic origins (Race Relations Act 1976) it seems that discrimination against the Travelling Community is not covered by this law. In fact, it seems to be encouraged. During his speech to the Conservative Party Conference this week, Eric Pickles MP for Brentwood and Ongar  launched his latest policy to “stop caravans in their tracks”. He confirmed that Councils would have new powers to eject Travellers from private sites before they settled, promising that “Never again would local authorities have to spend a fortune in time and money enforcing planning laws against the Traveller Community”.

Look at this statement from a different perspective. 

"Communities’ secretary Eric Pickles chose the Conservative Party Conference on Monday to launch his latest policy to “stop caravans in their tracks”. The announcement was Pickles’ response to last year’s Dale Farm confrontation, where Basildon council completed decade-long proceedings to evict Jews occupying pitches without planning consent. Never again, he promised, would local authorities have to spend a fortune in time and money enforcing planning law against the Jewish community."

If this is what he had declared there would be a public outcry. And what about these headlines?

Essex Jews facing eviction threaten 'Big Fat Jew War' on the authorities

Bill for evicting just 90 Jewish families from UK’s biggest illegal site could face £18m

So why are the Travelling Community not protected under the Race Relations Act? The problem stems from Society’s refusal to accept or believe that Travellers are an ethnic minority, despite the fact that case law established Gypsies as a recognised ethnic group in 1989 and Irish Travellers as a distinct ethnic group in 2000 in England and Wales. Throughout history, they have been regarded as trouble, as dirty, as scroungers, (all of which are untrue) but it seems incredible to me that in the 21st century these labels still apply. Sure, they have their share of trouble makers and scroungers - in common with every area of society, from the bankers at the top to the unemployed at the bottom. But isn’t that just tarring them all with the same brush? That sort of logic could implicate the whole of the British Army for atrocities to prisoners or the whole of the Irish nation for the death of Lord Mountbatten.

In his Conference Speech, David Cameron talked about spreading privilege ( a bad choice of word, surely he meant opportunity, but what can you expect from a privileged Eton educated man?). I wonder whether he factored the Travelling Community into this vision of Britain. It is very unlikely - surely he would not stand by and let Eric Pickles go ahead with his new policy if he had. 

There are changes afoot to the planning laws in the UK too. Laws will be relaxed for those fortunate enough to be able to afford to build an extension on their home or even build a new house in an effort to kick-start the economy. Will the Travellers benefit from this?  I think not. The NIMBYs will protest against any plans to increase the number of sites that are needed to house this ethnic group, the planning applications will continue to be rejected and racial equality will continue to be flouted.

Examples of racial prejudice against Travellers in the 21st Century

Picture from www.bbc.co.uk/kent/voices/prejudice

Picture from www.bbc.co.uk/kent/voices/prejudice

The Ravages of Time

Diana Morrison c1983

I came across this old photograph of myself the other day and it made me feel sad.

Ageing is such a cruel process. It creeps up on you stealthily and without mercy. One minute you're fresh faced with glossy abundant hair, flawless skin and a firm, healthy body and then one day you glance in a mirror and scarcely recognise your reflection. The lines around the eyes and mouth begin to appear, very subtly at first. The chin replicates itself like some cancerous cell. Hair loses its shine and colour and becomes finer and more brittle. As for the body - the waistline thickens and bits slowly begin to head south. Niggles of pain soon begin to make themselves apparent, joints begin to click and become less supple and energy levels become depleted more quickly. 

My poor mother never believed herself to be intelligent (she was, of course,) and her looks were everything to her. She was a very attractive woman but began to panic when she hit forty. The amount of money that she would spend on cosmetics and anti-wrinkle creams was outrageous. She became such a slave to maintaining her young, beautiful self that it became an obsession to her. In addition to the cosmetics, she would punish her body with a Jane Fonda work-out for an hour every day, and scarcely eat. We will never be sure whether this worked for her. She did lose a lot of weight, but she also had cancer, and may have had for a couple of years before it was diagnosed. She died at the age of 46, and the only consolation to that was that she never had to grow old. I would give a lot to see how she would look now, as it comes up to what would have been her 69th birthday.

I too, was proud of my looks and do understand what drives people to retain theirs for as long as possible, but I learnt from my mother that you cannot halt the ravages of time and the best thing to do is accept it with good grace.  Whilst there is no need to let yourself go altogether, there is also no need to work so hard that the fun goes out of life because you are constantly thinking about how you look. We all accept that our minds, ideas and outlook on life change as we get older, so why can't we accept that our bodies will do the same thing? 

Having said all this, it's time for me to go for my monthly eye-brow and lip wax!

Diana Morrison (with my beautiful grandaughter) 2012

Another Story

Sidney Harris and Edith Hind C1937

I've just posted another story, Final Confession, on my fiction pages. I wrote it back in May. It's not one of my best - but see what you think.

The picture is a photograph of my grandparents. The story is not based on theirs.

What a Farce

Photo - guardian.co.uk

 I hadn't watched the X-Factor since Matt Cardle won it in 2010 and I can't say I have missed it. However, last Sunday evening, my Facebook news feed went berserk - lots of my friends were talking about something called Rylan (mostly in derogatory terms) and I was intrigued. I was informed that Rylan was a contestant on X-Factor this year and that he (I established then that it was a he) was a bit of a diva and he had made it as far as the judges' houses. My curiosity grew, so I had a look on YouTube and discovered what all the fuss was about - yes, that pathetic, completely hammed up reaction to the news that he had made it to the live shows - obviously as the novelty act!

So last night, I thought I'd check out the results show, just to see whether things had improved since Simon Cowell's day. I was strangely gratified to see that Rylan was in the bottom two - (I had no idea how he had performed or whether he has any talent as a singer, having not watched the programme on Saturday.) It was as I feared - he was dire! The judge's would get rid of him there and then. The other contestant completely outclassed him! But no, in true X-Factor style, Louis Walsh took the vote to deadlock and  because of the public vote, this joke of a man went through. It was odd, Louis Walsh had stated first of all that he wanted to keep the woman singer (can't remember her name) but he was all of a dither, (I thought he was going to have a nervous breakdown, surely it's time he bowed out and left an opening for someone who is fit to do the job he's being paid for) and retracted what he had previously said.

I have finally come to realise that the X-Factor is not a talent show, it is just an ITV light entertainment show, that seemingly has nothing to do with discovering new stars. It's strange how you don't hear from many of the winners a few years after their triumph - anyone remember Leon? It's almost better not to win  (JLS and One Direction, being the most notable non-winners. Not that I like them either!) Better still though, not to enter. If you have a talent and are prepared to work hard to realise your dream, you have more chance of making it and emerging with some kind of (possibly battle-scarred) personality, with the added satisfaction of knowing that you did it your way.

I have finally been weaned off X-Factor for good and I really don't give a toss whether Rylan makes it or not.

The Downside to Being a Cat's Pet!

Mews

Photo by Diana Morrison 07-06-12

Help! Help! There's a riot going on downstairs! 

There is a pitiful squeaking, much growling and unsheathing of claws and feathers strewn all over my kitchen! I'm a prisoner in my own room!

Intrigued? (It's not that exciting.) Three of my four cats are squabbling over a bird that is, unfortunately still alive. I'm guessing from his possessive growling, that Mews caught it (his first successful hunt, other than a few hapless spiders, flies and moths,) and was going to give it to me as a present. I'm guessing also, that he was intercepted by matriarch, Kismet and her very vocal daughter, Mackerel on his way in - and now there is a stand-off!

I'm a bit concerned for Mews, he is such a softy and generally backs down if there is a confrontation - Kismet and Mackerel are much more streetwise, being semi-feral - I hope they don't hurt him - and whilst I don't really want his gift laid at my feet, I can't help but feel sorry for him if they do take it off him. I expect he was feeling quite proud of himself until they stole his thunder. So, why don't I go and sort it out, I hear you asking?

Kismet

Photo by Diana Morrison 17-09-12

Well, to tell you the truth, I'm scared; scared of birds, scared of mice, rats, snakes (although there are none in Ireland!), spiders - you name it and I'm scared of it! If it were dead, there'd be no problem. I'd be able to scoop it up with a shovel and and throw it outside so that none of them could have it, but being such a coward, I am now condemned to sit, barricaded in my room and wait it out - and yes I know that it is horrible for the bird and I do feel guilty for its suffering but there is little I can do about it. 

Mackerel

Photo by Diana Morrison 09-11-11

Oh! It's gone quiet now and Mews has just left the building. I'll just creep down and see what is happening. ... 

*Update* - All three cats have disappeared, the bird has breathed its last, at least I hope so, I'm not brave enough to get up close to it yet, in case it makes a sudden move and gives me a heart attack and the kitchen is in chaos. I have shut the door so they can't get back in for a while and now I face the gruesome big clean up. 

Cats will be cats, and I love mine dearly, but it's times like this that I wish they hadn't chosen me as their pet!