Publish

Mental Health, Random poetry 1 Comment »

Howdy-do!

 

Are you a writer?

Have you got anything hiding in a drawer that has not seen this side of the millennium, because you are ashamed of it/have convinced yourself it is never going to be worthy of others’ scrutiny?

If you used to write and have now stopped – why is that?  Can you unpick your feelings a bit for me?

Are you going to cite time restraints, crazy work schedules, family commitments, your age, your responsibilities, others’ opinions, your lack of talent…?

In my experience (and you already know this before I point it out) it is all bound up with fear.  That feeling of teetering on the edge of the abyss. 

It’s a huge thrill to think about how successful I would like to be, how I would love to be as rich as J K Rowling or as quoted as Stephen King.  How I will relish seeing my pen name as my recognised brand, and have thousands – no! – millions of followers on social media hanging on every word I write…

Then I remember that I am actually quite fond of anonymity. 

I can hide from the world any time I like.  I don’t have to meet everyone’s expectations, even people I’ve never met before.  I don’t have to acknowledge that scores of readers demand that I think of them when I (or my subconscious) ‘let’ things happen to my characters. 

No-one else is invested yet.  This is a good thing.  This is safe.

But, guess what?  I have a few regular readers already.  I took the plunge at the end of December.  I stood up for myself and said:

 “Nah, this is important enough.  You’ve always been scribbling things down – and pontificating for most of your life on street corners and down telephones, making yourself and your fellow bletherers late for whatever they were supposed to be doing.  It’s part of you, this storytelling and gathering.  You have many years of yarn all jumbled inside of you!  Why do people gravitate towards you if you are meant to be hidden away?!  They must like something you do, or they’d avoid you.  You are not getting any younger!! Do it!!”

If you are a writer that isn’t writing, how are you feeling just now?  Is there a gnawing feeling inside of you that you are not fulfilled in some way?  Can you cram things into your days just fine, but still feel there is something missing? 

Are you bridging that gap with other creative things, things that people can look at and instantly tell you it is clever or good?  How’s that working for you?

Writing is a lonely thing.  It is a subjective art that seems to have so many niches.  I’ll worry one day that the way I want to explain something is too…ornate?…for many to comprehend or bother with; then the next day I read some truly amazing work on the internet, and feel that the style that I wrote my last piece in was far too crude!  The things I beat myself up with!

I get angry when I don’t write. 

I get angry when I do write, but at least I feel I am doing something with it 😉

If you are not writing, but should be, where are your emotions being released?  Are you carrying around all this power that should be bursting from the page? Is it not tearing at the seams of your soul?!

From Randomwordgenerator

I was told by quite a few professional people (and many friends and relatives) in 2015 that I needed to be writing.  A psychiatrist told me that I must keep the dark parts of my musings, in order for the light to exist. 

I was not unwell, I was just not writing!! 

I do not totally believe that this was (or is) the whole story, but I do agree that muting the outlet I have always come back to is silly.

(Does this resonate with any non-practicing writers out there?!)

So, upon seeing ‘publish’ as my first generated word, I wrote a poem around the tussle with myself to get a blog post out every day.  It took all of my 15 minutes, and I did not get to do any tweaking. 

It is what it is…

 

 

 

 

Publish  Approach  Illness  Familiar  Fist  Crowd  Battlefield  Finish  Month

 

So I hit that ‘publish’ button,

And every nano second of my finger’s approach

Was being held back by my doubt.

But I did it.

 

Keep showing up at blank pages,

Banging keyboards in rages,

Through all life’s assuages –

To spew ink-scrawl in waves,

Hoping this my way paves,

To awake from dark graves

All impassioned raves;

That fell silent in twenties

(And rusted up, plenty)

But still wittered on

In my soul’s inner song…

 

And then, although illness

Kept striking our house;

The school run taking over,

The familiar pull of TV shows unwatched

Or books unread;

(Or just the lovely ecstasy

Of an early bed…)

 

I clenched my fist around my pen,

Addressed the assembled crowd.

Asked characters to step forward,

Take their places; please.

 

Sometimes, they were fresh from the battlefield,

Had not had time to finish dressing –

A wound, or themselves –

But still they performed:

Month after month, after…

 

Scribbles in my notebook, in a spring-like shade of green…

Once I start wondering about my writing process, and decide that I am on a ‘derailing mission’; I start to ask myself disheartening questions. 

I made a commitment to use a random word generator and just 15 minutes, to discourage my endless redrafting of my efforts – and to prove to myself I have an innate ability to produce decent work under pressure (a fact I suspected from my university essay days).  My internal critic would have me believe I have only put those restrictions on myself so I can hide behind them, and point to them when my work is rubbish. 

You lack commitment to your art, don’t you? 

You know you don’t measure up, so have checked out before you’ve even begun…that’s the truth, isn’t it?

When you get your longer pieces out there, people are going to realise you really don’t have any talent…!

But I am trying not to listen, because I know that I work hard at promoting my work, and thinking of what will be interesting for other people to read, as well as what I need to share with the world today for my own peace of mind.  I know I have a whole back catalogue of poetry and stories chilling in boxes and files that I can refresh and reframe. 

I am remembering, instead, to take heed of the calm little voice that doesn’t hiss, but just states the truth in an assertive way – waiting to be heard…

Feel free to weigh in on my “I’m less if I’m not writing” postulation, in the comments.  I’m eager to read your thoughts on the matter 🙂

 

 

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Copyright © 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Settle?

Politics, Random poetry No Comments »

Hello 🙂

From Randomlists

There was only one topic that popped into my mind when I read ‘oval’ and ‘press’ in the generated words tonight.  As I watch rolling news reports on the BBC News 24 channel, I come back to these ponderings quite a bit.  Who knew I’d be caring about politics so much in my late thirties?!  There does seem to be a lot of it about these days…

 

 

Heal  Public  Settle  Oval  Abrasive  Base  Chop  Talented  Press

 

It must be hard to heal

From such a public loss,

And settle back into life

As if nothing had happened.

 

Watch some crass buffoon

Squat in the Oval Office;

(Being deliberately abrasive,

But getting away with it)

 

Some days, you must get up

And wonder if it was all

Some figment.  If it mattered.

Whether being that base would have been easier!

 

Do you feel like a limb

Was left behind,

And that you know exactly

Who made the chop?

 

You were always so talented

At coming across as decent and measured.

You genuinely cared.

Never picked fights with the press.

 

Is God still blessing you guys?

Has your head been out of your hands, lately?

 

Notebook scribbles, in a fetching shade of blue.

Incredibly, I read this to hubby and typed it out, then hopped on to Google to see what Obama has been up to, and realised that today he has given his first public appearance since Trump took over!  How weird is that?! (I had not seen that on the news today)

Remember, the generators are random, I ask for nine words and alternate between four generators throughout the week…what are the odds that ‘oval’, ‘abrasive’ and ‘press’ would pop up on this generator today?  Are the algorithms rigged? Hmmmm…

The article suggests that Obama will not be answering my queries anytime soon, but it says a memoir has been started 😉 should be interesting…

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Copyright © 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

 

 

Tight Elastic

Random poetry, Relationships 2 Comments »

Hi!

From Textfixer

There was no Googling today, no harumphing over obscure words, or that brain tingle that tells me I am not going to find it very easy to complete my task in 15 mins though i’m still up for the challenge.

I just sat and looked at the words, then kind of checked out.  I was feeling a bit…well, restless.  I couldn’t think what triangular thing to start with so I just sat back and let my subconscious write the poem.

Maybe that is why it rhymes?  Maybe that is why I am also not entirely convinced that the whole ensemble makes sense??  I’m pretty sure it suffers for its rhyme in many places, but a bit of jovial drivel never hurt anyone…

 

Triangle  Tin  Tight  Gambler  Elastic  Tenth  Amongst  Fool  Honeydew

 

She has this triangle tattoo,

And I don’t have a clue

What the hell is was for –

In fact, she has plenty more…

But once she commented (drunk)

They were shark fins, unsunk,

That tormented her daily

(Though she carried on, gaily).

 

We have never been tight,

She is inclined to fight,

When the drinks set in.

She’s a gambler – won’t win –

But pleads coins from my pocket

And won’t heed plees to STOP IT.

 

Singing ‘Elastic Heart’

She’ll make other drunks start;

 

And they’ll weep and they’ll moan…

Text nonsense on their phone.

 

“For the TENTH time tonight,

Please just GIVE UP yer sh***e

And go home in this taxi…!”

 

I’m fed UP with this waxy

Existence, where candles

Are burned from all angles.

 

And she’s always amongst

The debris furthest flung;

But the boomerang fool

Somehow thinks that it’s cool

To keep rocking up here…

 

So I can buy her beer.

(And her Honeydew Melons)

 

Frailty, thy name is…Helen.

 

I notice that my subconscious put an ‘s’ on the end of ‘fin’.  Naughty!

Please excuse the scrappy stapled bit of paper, I scribbled some notes for something sensitive on there, and forgot I hadn’t scanned it for the blog yet…

What gender do you think the speaker is? Do you reckon there is intimacy between this ‘Helen’ and the speaker? Or did there used to be, and now it is like a game they play; where neither of them gain much they respect from the partnership? Is the speaker really exasperated with ‘Helen’, or is the speaker loving it, as they are not stopping it? Does she have a hold over the speaker that we are not being told about?

Have you ever known a couple like this? Are we thinking these are University students, or are they people who also hold down jobs and function in society in other ways?

So many questions! One would think that when characters wandered into a writer’s head, the writer would know a bit about them, eh?!  Well no, actually, I have two little ‘real life’ characters that run me ragged, and countless other people dotted through my life; so I sometimes get a bit confused by the imaginary ones that swan onto the page for just 15 minutes and demand my attention 😉

Come have a ponder with me in the comments…

 

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Copyright © 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Fitting Jazz

Random poetry, Relationships No Comments »

Hi there 🙂

Today I had another little Googling marathon to do in order to wrestle the Jimpix words into a poem.  But it is always educational!

From Jimpix

I did not know what I was going to do with ‘kern’, and at first thought this would work; but I then looked at the preceding word, and stumbled upon the composer instead!  Very helpful 😀

Salisburyhas a few possibilities, but I approached it from the music angle – and found they have a Jazz Club!

Tia’ is (as you probably know) short for ‘thanks in advance’, but I decided it would fit better as a name in this poem (and definitely not as a type of stroke…)

So, with a wee road map appearing, I wrote my piece!

 

 

 

 

Fitting  Jazz  Kern  Would  Forceful  Tia  Murmur  Salisbury  Pine

 

It was fitting that, as I walked in,

The Jazz band were playing ‘Yesterdays’

(My favourite Kern composition)

I looked around for the usual lurkers,

Hoping one of them would toss me a drink.

The hangover had been particularly forceful;

And Tia’s voice even more so.

 

As the Saxaphone’s murmur and caress

Made me thankful Salisbury is anything but plain,

I threw back my first shot;

And my heart began to forget how to pine

For lost loves and dreams.

 

Scribbles in red

I am not a follower of Jazz myself (though ‘Montaffera’ and ‘Comfy Restless’ would probably fit right into the scene?) but I learned about the piece’s history here, heard it here, and I like it!

I was a bit sad, when I was Googling ‘jazz kern’ and came across a Facebook page for a dead dog 🙁 but, all in all, I had a good session with my generator nemesis today!  Thanks Jimpix!!

And thank YOU for reading 😉

 

 

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Copyright © 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

The Door

Random poetry, Relationships 2 Comments »

Hello!

From randomlists

The kids have been teaching me card games; and playing with dinosaurs, dragons and blocks.  There have been some good stories coming out of their endeavours.  I’ve mostly been called upon to be their referee and photographer. 

I have also had red wine and yesterday’s chocolate cake, so life is all good with me!

Maybe the tipsy writers I was talking about the other day were onto something?!  The poem seemed to flow pretty easily tonight…

There is, however, something sinister going on in this one; and I hope the speaker manages to get help ok…

 

Door  Wacky  Impossible  Curtain  Calculating  Wistful  Actor  Tranquil  Nonchalant

As I chapped on the door

I had no idea

Just how wacky a step

This would be.

 

It was impossible

To predict just then

The insane curtain you

Gather round.

 

Cloaking your intent/

Calculating mind.

The wistful me, sucked in.

Advantage: yours.

 

Such a pro actor, you.

Every tranquil thought

Of mine: shattered on sight.

Swept up, hidden.

 

Appearing nonchalant

When in truth a plan,

Meticulously hatched,

Is in full swing…

 

Notepad workings

See what I mean?!

I can only see a woman standing at a blue door, and then shadowy images of a blurry person moving inside around her, later in the poem. 

What do you think has happened?  Is it a man she is speaking about?  Is it a relationship, or is she much younger than him and he’s kidnapped her? 

Is it another woman holding the one at the door captive? A strange kind of suffocating friendship – or an affair? 

What did you get from the poem…please let me know in the comments 😉

 

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Copyright © 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

 

Normal?

Politics, Random poetry 2 Comments »

Hi again 🙂

It is waaaay past my bedtime, so I will post up the poem I wrote and run.  I am posting on the 21st, but will make WordPress backdate it as I did write it yesterday, honest! 

From Randomwordgenerator.com

I have just finished tinkering with my chocolate cake post, as the editor pretended that it had cropped out Eldest’s face, but hadn’t when I enlarged the thumbnail! EEEEK! I do not like having my kids’ faces on here because I just don’t feel it is safe!  Not being techy minded (and having purged the cache…) I am not sure why it didn’t crop properly, but the pic is down now.  Sigh.  It was a nice birthday candle pic, too.

When I saw that there was a phrase in the generated words, and therefore technically ten words instead of my usual nine; I decided to pair up the other words, too.  So what follows is a bit of a nonsense poem.  But I hope you like it anyway:

 

 

 

 

 

Normal  Button  Crossing  Similar  Disaster  Pyramid  Mail Carrier  Tile  Survey

 

Oh, to have a worldwide

‘Normal Button’.

It would be housed at Westminster

And seen to be as bad

As nuclear:

Crossing similar (levelling) lines.

 

I wonder if there would have to be

A disaster pyramid drawn up?

At the pinnacle: what would occur

If we didn’t revert back

(Yeah, it would have to be reversible,

Because we all know we’d get bored)

 

Eventually, there would be a clamouring

To get back to diversity.

We’d understand our differences more.

Harry Potter would still be allowed an owl

As his mail carrier;

I would have my ‘tile survey’

Granted when I felt shy…

 

Scribbles

The line at the end may be a bit obscure, but what I meant was when one studies any pattern in the floor tiles instead of looking up, because of feeling acutely self-conscious 😉

Would you like a ‘normal button’?  How would it work?  Would it emit a gas, do you think?  Or a sound that was on some frequency that everyone’s brain reacted to?

Would mental disorders stop certain brains from responding?  Or above average intelligence?  (Would animals be affected?)

What actually constitutes normal behaviour?!  (If I have to ask that question, am I beyond the experiment?  Would I have to be locked up when the sound/gas was let loose?)

Would the resistance use my brain chemistry for their counter culture…?!

I need to go to bed 😉 na night, all.

X

 

 

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Copyright © 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

 

 

 

Caked in Chocolate

Childhood, Parenting, Things I Made This Week No Comments »

Hi there 🙂

Today we got around to making Eldest his birthday cake!  We used this recipe, and I never hear a complaint from those who try it (I have had a few abstain as they don’t like chocolate, however (!!!) )

Eldest’s fourth birthday cake was made by doubling the quantities of everything and then having fun cutting up bits and positioning them before splopping the icing all over it with abandon.  He loved it, and so did his party guests!

Yum yum!

 

Today we went for a tame version of the cake, but it was still fun to watch it come together.

Nigella states in the recipe that you can use a food processor, but mine has only successfully made a few smoothies and lolly mixtures…so I use a bowl and a wooden spoon.  The children also help a lot 🙂

 

Flour being measured Flour into the bowl Sugar in Bicarb and Baking Powder measured Give it a stir... Give it a stronger stir! Sour cream

So, after the ingredients were all in their respective bowls, I got to work stirring up the messy stuff and adding it to the dry stuff (very technical).  I did not wear an apron, so I got snapped by the boys happily sporting some of the flour 😉

Youngest's view of mumEldest's view of mum!

 

Then came a good bit: the final spooning out of the mixture into the tins!  I am very lazy and try to get out of the buttering faff if at all possible…I just put baking paper in and around the tins, and hope the mixture spreads ok.  Does anyone else do this?!  They turn out fine.  If fact, they come out very easily, because I just remove them by the paper edges, and leave them to cool!

Swirly, yummy goodness Splop! More splop! More splop! You can almost smell them...Cooling down

The boys played cards (Jack Changes) while I tidied up the diningroom, did the dishes and started melting the butter and chocolate for the icing.

Jack changes card game Chocolate for the icing Buttery chocolate! Mmmm...The kids thought this looked like tiger stripes

And finally, after dinner, Eldest had his cake!  It is nowhere near perfectly presented, and the icing sugar is all lumpy, but it tastes good, and made our big boy grin.  Youngest even enjoyed his portion after dinner, declaring that the cocoa in it “doesn’t smell like poo any more” – which is high praise, don’t you think?

Candly cake :) Splodgey, but delicious!Nom nomMmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

 

 

 

 

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Copyright © 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

 

Loop

Mental Health, Random poetry, Relationships No Comments »

Hey there 🙂

When I started prepping for this post, I was a happy girlie.  I had managed to have a bit of a lie in while the kids played; had supervised the filling in of a worksheet Eldest’s teacher had sent home for him with another pupil; had fed the boys a filling breakfast and lunch; taken the boys out to play on their scooters and then with the outside toys (including cones to crash the cars into); had chatted with a couple of neighbours; and then given the boys the tablet while I wrote my poem – popping back and forwards to check on them as I perused a few other bloggy-type things like my social media feeds. 

I was feeling on top of things.  I was going to get my post finished before the kids were in bed, and then get a free hour or two to do a proper clean up before settling with a Kindle book I want to read.  I wouldn’t have to turf hubby off the PC as all the finicky bits would be done. (My laptop hates the editor window for this blog.  It sucks.)

Look at the nice lot of photos I took:

 

But no.  The fact that I was keeping eyes and ears on my boys regularly – interacting with them while also diligently getting on with my work – was not enough.  The little darlings still managed to outfox me. 🙁

I came down (for probably the sixth time in an hour and a half, I had even cleaned Youngest’s bottom in that time) to make dinner, to find Eldest had not only poured milk for him and his brother (who is not supposed to drink much milk) without asking, even though he had declared himself not hungry or thirsty enough for dinner  just 15 minutes before, but had also made them toast!!!

Now, there are strict rules in our house that say electricity is dangerous, and hot things are too.  For Eldest to have combined these things absolutely horrified me.  He has never made toast before, never asked me to let him (although under controlled conditions, come to think of it, it would have been fine) and now he was doing it unsupervised?!  With a four year old egging him on?!  Eeeeek!! 

Thank goodness it was the toaster and not the grill he used, I suppose…

To add insult to (what thankfully did not result in) injury, the boys had then proceeded to sit in the playroom’s carpeted area to eat their spoils.  Not up at the table as I repeatedly state they are supposed to.  I was beyond livid.

I can usually hear every step that anyone takes in the kitchen, as it is right under the main bedroom (where our PC is), and I am forever foiling their little plans now that they can get round some of the toddler-proofing; but with the tumble dryer rumbling away, and a craftily shut diningroom door, I was out of the game, apparently.  I will be using the laptop in the livingroom during the day from now on, when the kids are about :-/

I feel so awful about what could have happened!  My poor heart almost failed!

 

From Textfixer

Eldest says Youngest told him to do it, so he had no choice…the mind boggles, pondering what hold the four year old has over the seven year old for the latter to risk the wrath of me?! Needless to say their games on the tablet are in jeopardy, and YouTube is now out of the question for the rest of this week (I can check what they are watching from my phone or the PC as they use my account.  Horrid Henry has already been banned this week because Eldest was using some of the ideas in the cartoon for booby traps…)

 

Anyway, I did get to write a poem earlier, so this will hopefully still be published before midnight…

 

Friendless  Pony  Attribute  Genuine  Domination  Baffling  Architect  Beginning  Loop

 

I can’t remember truly being friendless,

But I have felt lonely many times.

 

I world-reject a bit.

I wasn’t ever one who wanted a pony

Or any real responsibility –

I liked being able to slip away

Unencumbered.

(But maybe I just grew into that

After I started school?

It is not an attribute my innate four year old self

Showed, I don’t think)

 

I try to be genuine

Actually, most of the time:

I. Can’t. Help. It.

 

I’m not out for world domination

(I find this baffling)

But I can contribute

Too much to a conversation…!

(Then act as architect, and queen)

 

I don’t quite know where the lonliness came from;

Was it the bullying?

Or the hormones?

Or the social pressure I imbibed,

That told me intense was unsafe?

 

Somewhere along the way

I clothed myself

In a pattern of despair.

A repetitive act, but

The first day’s forgotten.

 

But then: every knitted article

Has just one beginning loop…

 

Scribbly, wibbly, pencily…stuff.

 

It is funny what my brain comes up with when I read my words.  Again I got the last two lines in my head (and on the notebook) and worked up to it with ‘friendless’ as my second starting point. 

Do you feel lonely around other people?  Can you pinpoint why that is, or when you first became aware of the feeling?

 

Feel free to come chat to me in the comments.

 

 

 

 

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Copyright © 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

 

Lednock

Health, Mental Health, Random poetry 4 Comments »

 

Hello again 🙂

From Jimpix (muhahahahaha)

So it came to pass: once again the generator of doom ground its cogs and presented me with a strange mix of words to play with.  It took me a bit of twisting of the ol’ grey matter to figure out how ‘Lednock’, ‘IBM’ and ‘Elwy’ were going to gel together, but I managed with just over 5 minutes to spare.

Obviously I did my research outwith the 15 minute window, I’m not that quick 😉

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Splatter  Lednock  IBM  Experiment Wings  Elwy  Pharaoh  By  Chancellor

 

The rain did not start to splatter steadily

Until I’d almost finished marvelling at the majesty

Of Glen Lednock.

Drawn from dull conferences, and talk

Of IBM shares (and software in general) –

I was feeling free.

 

This experiment I’d started, oh five years ago now,

Had flexed its wings and shown me

That life was for the living.

 

Paradoxically, it was the dead that spoke to me most.

Whether crouched in an Elwy cave,

Tracing Neanderthal;

Or staring into Pharaoh faces, imagining the

Baking heat upon their taut skin, once –

It got me by.

 

It kept me sane when others rattled on about money

And gloomy predictions, ignored by the Chancellor.

History doesn’t lie…

 

Scribbles in purple

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Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Of Blue Sky Days

Random poetry No Comments »

Hello!

A new poetry post will be up later, but I thought I’d just say a big THANK YOU to all the lovely people reading this.  Mainly because I am always honoured that people read my ramblings, but also because yesterday was an amazing day for me and this blog! 

There was a flurry of views after my poem appeared on The Drabble blog – in fact it was my best day by far at no fewer than 84 blog hits in 24 hours!! That smashed my previous record of 46! 

I really appreciate every single one of you, and love that you send me words of encouragement on Twitter, ‘like’ my posts here, and hop over from Facebook to see what I’ve posted. 

Moreover, the fact that a few of you have also subscribed to get my posts delivered to your email is alllll kinds of awesome 🙂

I grinned a ridiculous amount of much (as we say in our house) yesterday, and it was just the best feeling!

There are days when I wonder if this blogging and writing thing I do is just self-indulgent and silly, but when I see such interest and other places featuring my work, it makes the daily scribbling and posting seem relevent and worthwhile.

*Tears up a bit*

Basically?  You all rock!!

Big group hug!!

 

Thanks again 😀

 

 

Montaffera

xxx

 

 

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Copyright © 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!