seven pillars of... 2007
Political Umpire has set me a challenge. It's a challenge I rather need to undertake anyway, sitting here in Baroque Mansions like a latter-day Miss Havisham mouldering among the crumbling artefacts of previous... (that's enough - ed.)
He challenges me to list my seven successes of 2006 - a year in which I lost my job, had one poem accepted for publication, got bumped off a major poetry project, only wrote about five decent poems, & stopped sending them out; turned an age I will not name, got circles under my eyes, & suffered much from a syndrome we can't even call empty-nest because the kids haven't officially reached any milestones,* they just never come home any more; failed (again! - my pathological hatred of Hackney Council) to keep up with my council tax, had misunderstandings with two friends, lost others in the undertow; fell over (in Somerfields, of all places), got some awful flu,** put on half a stone,*** had huge scary trouble (continuing) with my eyes, fell down some stripped-pine stairs (the Baroque knee is really bruised, six weeks in - I know - no pity), was tired the whole time,**** and did not meet a single nice man. Or a nice single man. There's been a lot of time at home by myself, which is not a great idea for Ms Baroque.
But hey! I just had a fab lunch in Upper Street and a major triumph at Phase 8 - everything half price - including a VERY flattering houndstooth-check (tiny, tiny checks, okay) suit jacket which will do a treat for my credibility at work (see below). (Actually, that jacket can be success #8.) Let these things be the fire from which my phoenix will spring in 2007.
So. MY SEVEN SUCCESSES
1. Starting this blog - like Political Umpire's #1. Getting it noticed (thanks). Discovering a World of Blogs, which is just as fascinating as other worlds and doesn't, unlike the "mainstream press"- as has been noted - confer an automatic aura of acceptability on febrile dross like this torrent of malice by Richard Littejohn in the Daily Mail. I've "met" wonderful new people through Baroque, established new connections, & had a laugh!
2. Writing criticism for Contemporary Poetry Review. I love it. When my article on Wendy Cope was published she said it was one of the best pieces on her work she'd ever read. I have a review up there now - for the next few days anyway - and a close reading of a Joseph Brodsky poem forthcoming, as well as two items in the pipeline. I'm interviewing Ruth Fainlight in the new year and am mighty pleased about it.
3. Getting the first job I interviewed for after being redundant. The job is a bit chaotic and feels hard, and I have yet to make what feels like a success of it, which pains me mightily; but the success of getting it still counts. The job itself can be a success in 2007.
4. Getting my niece over here for the first time ever last April, a feat which will be repeated this Easter. It's hard, living 3,000 miles from the family - especially as we are, for some reason, a non-travelling family. This was the first visit from home in about 13 years (yes!), & it was my idea.
5. Getting my hair the right colour. (I'm allowed this: it is a success. It's a great colour.)
6. Reading for Oxfam in November. This may sound like a small thing, but look: after months of all the above-mentioned ills, observe how our attention-starved egotist - I mean writer - crawls, grateful and blinking, out of the garret (okay, Mansion) and into the arena of an actual audience... I actually had to go and remind myself what poems I had and re-learn them. Some of the poems in the set had never been seen by anyone but me.
And, readers - I knocked 'em dead. It was a great line-up, I was reading with writers I admire, and their various positive responses to my work (read: the adulation of the crowd) bucked me up in a way I can't really even describe. Ms B is not a fraud! It really is poetry! Yay!
7. Giving my kids a wonderful, extra-Christmassy Christmas. We had the Urban Warrior's girlfriend here, whose parents oddly seemed not to be doing anything special, and even with no notice Santa gave that girl just as good a stocking as what les enfants Baroque got. And she had a present under the tree.
We had the Stollen and panettone and satsumas, and the giant clove-studded ham and the pumpkin pie, and candles all over the place and boughs of holly draped everywhere. It's still quite beautiful in here. Nana Baroque did not send the usual box of presents but instead, in the names of these and all the other family kids, donated to a charity called Heifer International an amount commensurate with an entire water buffalo and five flocks of chickens and ducks. The Baroque children were very amused & it was all a big success.
Their non-baroque Grandma died last year on Christmas Eve (which is the one we celebrate here, as they go to their dad on XMas Day) so this was a hard one. The ritual of it and our family traditions really did buoy the kids up along the anniversary. And I think joy despite sadness really is what Christmas is about. They've all said they had a really good one. That's a success!
This tagging thing drives me nuts. I write all these earnest lists only to read much funnier ones by other people who have avoided giving themselves away nearly so much. Well I'll just have to live with that. La comedie humaine, c'est moi. So I tag: Dave Hill (if not already tagged), Non-Working Monkey, my sis Leigh (you can just write in the comment box), Noosa Lee, Mark Granier, Ros Barber (as she shared one of my successes - and she was a knock-out), and Madame Arcati.
* note from future: see fact below, which had I known it I might not have said "stones"...
** note from future: gall stones!
*** see above
**** see above
