17th march 1983

Dear Diary,
It's been nearly a week since I last wrote- but never mind! Sheba our puppy (we changed it's name cos it's a girl) may have to go away.I don't want it to as it's really sweet. Jenny Morgan's gonna ask her dad if she can have it. I hope he says 'yes' then I can go and see it. By the way Jenny's had her hair cut. It looks OK. It makes her look older!
I simply must mention- There's a person I can't stand. Kiki! She is always looking at me in maths!
Sarah's been away lately. She won't be back till next week. Oh.
For Art we have Ms Donaldson now instead of Mr Sampson. She's quite nice.

The Audacity of Youth

Everyone knows how fond I am of the students I teach. I still maintain contact with students I taught many moons ago and I still enjoy them calling me, telling me about their progress:
"I'm working now Miss".
"I'm engaged Miss".
"I've got my own place now Miss."
"I got into Uni Miss"(That's one of my favourites!)
They tell me as they know the encouragement will still be forthcoming although they have long left my care.
Also, I live in the same area that my old college is in so it is nothing unusual to bump into any one of them, so I wasn't at all surprised that once again I bump into-let's call him Adrian. I taught 'Adrain' in 2001 or thereabouts.

my ORIGIN

Yesterday evening I took my son to a group called ORIGIN; A Rites of Passage Program for young men of African decent. We waded through the rush hour traffic on train and tube and at 6.50 we entered a building right at the end of Willington Road. He didn't want to go, my son. He would rather spend his evenings moving from kitchen to lounge to kitchen to bedroom. From Ps3 to msn to PS bleeding 3. But as his mother, of course, I know what's best. Plus, his older brother done the program years ago and it benefited him so immensely I cannot say. The program was available to us at a time when he was at an emotional low, and needed strong male role models and the cushion of love and support that the program mentors provide.

the video

My good friend's daughter just recently had a baby girl. Gorgeous little thing she is- both of them actually; Sweet smelling, petit and soft. We were invited to watch a video of the baby's birth as we'd heard she was a real trooper, so now we had the chance to see for ourselves.
       "But so soon Teesh?" I inquired. "Aren't you still on fire?" I know I was squeezing, squashing and folding my legs tight  for at least a month after my last big headed baby was born. I couldn't imagine watching what I went through, much less watching it three days later!!

14th January 1983

I found an old diary of mine!! Here's an entry from twenty seven years ago!!

Dear Diary,
It's been a long time since I've written in here. Not that the days have been boring, not at all. I just didn't find the time. Anyway, the week has been alright. On Thursday MM and the World Famous Supreme Team were on Top Of The Pops! It was the best song.
On Sunday church was alright. We went back extra early. I was sick in the van.
On Monday I went back to school. Denise has got the wet look and P**'s done something wierd to her hair. It looks wierd.
I haven't been waking up early tho. I have to try harder.
Oh yea, they're still on about the boots business. "Take em off when you get in school and all that jazz". We can't do anything in school.

In my parent’s house I obey the sign that says: NO SHOES NO EXUSES before mounting the stairs. There’s a smell of apple crumble, my favorite, coming from the kitchen; Sweet cinnamon, brown sugar, nutmeg even; and although these aren’t the stairs I used to climb back then, I am thrown into childhood. Then, all of my Sundays were dominated by Sunday- School first, Sunday dinner next and the delicious desserts that followed.
I hug my mum who is sat up in bed and hope the smell of mints and white musk is stronger than roll ups. Sweet soap and powder waft upwards from her cheeks, her robe. The room is drenched in the yellow of the afternoon. My mum is soft and warm to the touch with arms that feel like a chocolate cake that I take out of the oven too soon.

Flash Fiction

In the run up to the new year, instead of thinking about Sales and Food and Nights out, I have been thinking about FLASH FICTION. At a recent writers retreat the fabulous author Kate Clanchy introduced a group of us to the concept: Ten word and one hundred word stories.
When it should be sleep I am counting words! It's a true test on the concise use of language, especially with the ten word stories:getting to the essence of the story straight away but still with the beginning, middle and an end! It's fun as well, and as such I've dedicated a whole new blog to the idea!!Does it work? (my attempts and the concept) Take a look, see what you think :-)      http://2010wordstories.blogspot.com/