Goodness! Jan Stone of Janonlife has nominated me for a Sunshine Blogger Award. This is so kind of you, Jan. I’ve never, as far as I can remember, been nominated for anything – so it means a lot.
I panicked, of course. World Champion Panicker, me. Silly thing – I just couldn’t think how to display the logo. Seem to have cobbled together a solution to that now.
So, the rules of the Sunshine Blogger award are:
- Thank the blogger who nominated you for the award.
- Display the banner/sticker/logo on your blog.
- Share 7 facts or things about yourself.
- Nominate 5 bloggers that you admire and inform them by commenting on their blog.
OK, firstly seven random facts about myself, in the order they arrived in my head:
- I originally trained to be a teacher but wasn’t terribly good at it. Or possibly I was terrible at it. I mean, I was all right at the teaching. The problem was intercepting all those paper aeroplanes and hurtling elastic bands, and actually making myself heard over the chaos that was my classroom.
- I’ve been a vegetarian since moving next door to a field full of little baa-lambs in 1980-something, but on a stressed-out day might be discovered consuming a supermarket tuna and cucumber sandwich in my car. My car is full of crumbs. I ought to do something about that.
- My mother used to show everyone a framed photo of me aged about 2 looking disgustingly chubby in a pair of dungarees and a frilly sun hat, playing with a giant metal bucket on the garden path.
- I didn’t entirely win a BBC3 television short story competition called End of Story. Bit like Strictly Come Dancing, but without the sequins and not nearly as popular. I was one of the six finalists, and thrilled – but not for long. The whole experience of being swept up by a film unit, whisked from London to Kettering and back again in a kind of caravan of BBC people-carriers, staying in horrendous hotels, making a dreadful mess of everything – nightmarish. And to cap it all, they filmed us in Sue Townsend’s back garden trying not to look disappointed – and the winner trying even less successfully not to look smug. Then they managed to lose the tapes. We had to go all the way back to Kettering to be filmed in the garden pretending to be trying not to look disappointed/smug about a month later. Then they found the tapes.
- At this time of year I enjoy lying on the sofa covered in cats watching really bad Christmas movies. The worse the acting is the better as long as it’s New York and there’s fake snow, lots of red and green and garlands and a handsome hero.
- The poem that turned me on to poetry was Poem in October by Dylan Thomas. I spent months (pre internet, of course) searching for it again after my English teacher read it to us in class, and eventually found it in the school library. I didn’t think just to ask him. He was a resting actor (I suspect anyone could teach in those days as long as they had some sort of degree) who left after a couple of terms to join the Black & White Minstrel Show. Now, of course, and rightly so, the show is frowned upon. I remember spending more months trying to work out which minstrel my English teacher might be, underneath all that chocolate make-up.
- I once ran away from home to the local Recreation Ground. I sat on a green bench under a horse chestnut tree for what seemed like several days but may only have been twenty minutes, waiting for my mother, the police or possibly the fire brigade to come looking for me. None of them did. It was raining quite hard and drops kept dripping off the chestnut trees down the back of my neck. Eventually – not having thought to pack my teddy and pyjamas in a suitcase – I slunk back home.
So hard to single out only 5 bloggers from so many good ones out there, but here we go:
Jim Peacock on Ages of the Seed
Anne Coleman on Muddling Through My Middle Age
Yahooey on Yahooey’s Blog
fictionalkevin on Fictional Kevin
Blair on The Shameful Sheep
On the subject of buckets (not that we were, but see 3.) this version of the Hole in the Bucket song always makes me laugh. Haven’t we all been a Henry – and a Liza?
I’m mostly a Henry.