I’m writing this blog for me. Should you happen to read with me, fantastic, but it started life on the advice of someone “mentoring”me to find an outlet for my writing that would somewhat dilute the grimness I was experiencing at work. I’ve written since I was about 17. I have been to a couple of creative writing type workshops – one of them on story writing had me with sweaty palms and near to tears as I was the last to read my “creation” and I was surrounded by writers reading lush prose, imaginative detail and I had a pretty thinly disguised factual account of a snow deep, breathtaking, silent morning walk up Snowdon! The workshop leader told me I was being hard on myself but I was incredibly frustrated. I spent the other workshop staring at the climbing wall behind the speaker, mesmerised by the different coloured holds and tracing routes I would take if I could climb. I can remember the lunch – bagels and bacon, salad and fruit but precious little else! I have put together several booklets of “verse” for friends, but I can see that they contain meticulously observed detail of landscapes I love and draw on images culled from real life experience. I love words; particularly word associations and the big ideas of books and science or history documentaries. I love to walk and think and I am an awful one for listening with one ear and looking at details! I always thought poetry was my “format” – maybe it still is – but this feels like undiluted fun! I also love scripture and taking a bible verse “for a walk round” so I can think about it works for me. Most things feel better outside. Maybe that’s just an excuse for being totally unable to sit still after a week wearing a phone headset, always expecting another call.