I hung my toes over the side of the boat and splashed around the ‘blogging’ pool. I was beginning to venture further and thought this is fun until I ran aground and had to swim for shore.
I watched as my means of transport sank slowly into the mud. It did take several painful days with strange blips across the glassy surface. I said a little prayer but it was to no avail and I was forced to watch the final ring enclose the disappearing stern.
I was assured my scribblings hadn’t been lost but were just bobbing below the surface held in suspended animation until I could reach them with new equipment. It’s amazing though how quickly you can fall out of the habit. I returned to pencil and paper but was frustrated by the slow speed and my untidy writing.
My poems have still been written but were in danger of being lost or used for shopping lists or just consigned to the bin. I’m not into accessing the internet with an iphone and my mobile is usually switched off unless I want to use it. This unexpected isolation – partly self-induced, partly circumstantial seems to have continued for weeks, but finally I’m back on line – back in the pool again and I can cancel my order for quill and vellum.