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Showing posts from December, 2011

Happy New Year

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The Monitor's Mission

Writers Talkback One Word Challenge - "Scarlet" Akram is jostled in the crowd, struggling to push his head up between the knees and elbows that are digging into his small body. He is almost deafened by the sounds of angry voices chanting and car horns signalling their discontent. He grasps the hand of his older brother, desperately clinging on. He knows he must not let go. The crowd surges and Akram's five year old feet are lifted off the ground as they move forward, nearer to the group with the white peaked caps. Akram's brother will be in deep trouble with Mama if she finds out he is here. In the past few months since the troubles got worse she has forbidden them to go to Friday prayers at the Ummayad Mosque in the city and they  have stayed indoors much more than usual. But she won't find out - not yet. Tricolours of scarlet, whiter and black with two green stars in the centre, wave above the heads of the people as shots are fired. Akram's limp, now li

Christmas Post

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Watched  The Grumpy Guide to Christmas  last night - amusing, if not predictable. All those so called celebs telling us how much they hate Christmas, but obviously revelling in the revenue that moaning about it brings by talking about it on TV. As Ozzy Osbourne said "When I was a practising alcoholic it was the best time of the year, but when you don't drink it's just another day". They also talked about sending (or not sending) cards at Christmas and how you always get one from someone who you have never heard of. Me, cynical as ever, thought - that never really happens, it's just you have forgotten or something. But, another one of those coincidences that aren't  really coincidences happened this morning.   I received a Christmas card through the post this morning... from someone I've never heard of.                                                                     Or maybe forgotten.  I don't recognise the handwriting and I have scrutinised th

Poetry 'n Motion

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In case anyone missed it on Tuesday 29th November via almost every social networking site available  - I   won a competition . At risk of being repeatetive, the competition involved Vintage Inns, Sir Andrew Motion as judge, and one line of poetry. I have graciously accepted and enjoyed the dining out part of the prize (at  the Boat Inn , Sprotbrough) and am now waiting for the other parts - a framed copy of the poem and a signed copy of Andrew Motion's latest collection of poems "The Cinder Path". Now, I have to admit that apart from knowing he was poet laureate at some time in the past, that was about all I knew of Andrew Motion. My main studying time of poetry was, of  course, before the days of Google at the sweep of a thumb and the click of a button. That's my excuse anyway, but I did feel obliged to read up a bit about the man responsible for my latest 'literary prize'. As coincidence/luck/fate or whatever would have it, a few days after the competit

The Best Christmas

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It did cross my mind not to write a blog about Christmas - before, during or after the event. Which ever way I talk about it I know that I will appear either 'holier than thou' or scrooge- like. I will certainly seem hypocritical.  However, I have buckled under the weight of my thoughts - which apparently are not so dis-similar to those of many others at this time.  There's nothing new in feeling a bit pressured at this time of year. Most of us want our family and friends to have the best possible...  everything.  Best tree. best decorations, best lights, best food and drink, best time together and most of all best presents. Whether this 'best' is  for ourselves or for what others think of us is something that's a bit too uncomfortable to think of. I hold my hands up here - I reckon I'm a pretty good contender for the top prize in this game. I want my family and friends to have THE BEST, be it mince pie, cracker or party, while talking about peace an