On May 1st I started a hundred day challenge to write a hundred posts each of exactly a hundred words. I completed it, but by then it had become a habit!
Taste… sweet, salty, sour bitter – and the mysterious umami and maybe astringency and pungency? I prefer bitter above other tastes, ranking them as bitter, sour, salty, sweet.
What is it about bitter? It’s something which stimulates as I taste it, makes the sides of my tongue almost quiver as the bitter thing hits – tonight it’s beer, from those marvels of nature, hops. I love bitter beer, and green vegetables, and olives.
There’s the essential of the cocktail called bitters (aromatic herbs, bark, roots, and/or fruit) According to Wikipedia ‘some of the more common ingredients – cascarilla, cassia, gentian, orange peel.
Reading something I’ve written, started many, many months ago, and thinking, hey, actually, it’s too long, there are mistakes and typos, but it’s not bad – gives such a sense of relief, and, I guess, validation.
I’m struggling with this latest book – as I’ve struggled before, but I must complete, so I can work on it, fashion it and bash it into something worth publishing, before moving on to the next thing.
Should I finish the many half-complete stories? Mike Scott’s story? Clare Cherry’s mystery? Peggy and the Lighthouse? I think I owe it to those characters to finish their tales.
I was a Brownie; girls from about seven years old met weekly in the infants’ school hall. Divided into sixes, each had the name of an other-world creature; I was a fairy, and there were gnomes, pixies and elves. Led by Brown Owl, helped by Tawny Owl and Snowy Owl, each six had a sixer and her second. We played games, earned badges and had activities, and little rituals, dancing round the toadstool, each six singing their own song. We promised to do our best, do our duty and to help others everyday – still not a bad resolution to have.
Walking on the beach in the pitch dark, so dark I can barely make out my feet, just trusting there’s no driftwood, flotsam, jetsam, dead sea creature to trip over. We’re heading south, the tide’s not long out, the sand is solid beneath our feet, solid and sodden.
The black sky is so full of stars, and low on the southern horizon a curious bit of moon, a startling bright apricot colour, a cloud draped across it. We walk swiftly along, a wind catches and chills us. We reach the yacht club and turn and return, the air soft now.
It’s not unusual for us to go to the Playhouse in town to watch a cover band; not many bands such as Queen, The Dubliners or the Eagles would ever tread the boards in Weston-super-Mare – although once the Beatles did.
Tonight we went to see ELO Again; I quite like ELO’s music, but wouldn’t say I’m a fan of the band and have none of their music. I was surprised at how many of their songs I know very well, I guess I’d appreciated them almost subliminally without registering who they were.
ELO Again were stunningly good – a great night!
I have published the first 100 of my 100 word blogs which I completed in 100 days to raise money for the CaptainTom Foundation: