"She lives the poetry she cannot write" – Wilde
….and absolute power corrupts absolutely, as we know. It seems that even a whiff of power from thirty miles away can compromise my principles. The new MP for Crewe and Nantwich, Edward Timpson, is a Tory as you may have noticed. According to my lights I should be rather unhappy that he won; which I am, politically speaking. On the other hand, he is the brother and brother-in-law of dear chums, whose pleasure and excitement are palpable. So I share in their excitement, personally speaking. Should I ever meet him at a dinner party, I promise that I will lobby for poetry to be plastered all over the streets of Crewe and Nantwich….
It’s been a planning week; planning workshops, planning events, and planning to go on holiday if it ever stops bloody raining. Huge gales here, and with the neighbouring boat away for the weekend I have nothing to shield me from the wind; the boat is rocking about like a mad thing. But when small friend Tilly (below) came to play, she brought sunshine with her and had a go at steering Tinker with her dad. If we can only get her to face the right way she will make a great skipper.
On Thursday I put on a frock and some vertiginous shoes for the official launch of Living Derby, a wonderful community interest company which aims to get Derby people working together on creative projects. All went swimmingly and I felt very smug about my MCing skills. Alas, it was down to earth the next morning, when at a small library I read from my book to an audience of three – all of whom were apparently there only for the biscuits. Hey ho.
Right, I’m buggering off to Cornwall now with friends Hannah, Heather and their clans. Will report back….