My fellow ‘Housewife’, Stella Mandella has organised us a gig on Tuesday at Write Angle in Petersfield and I’ve just got my apron and high heels out. My performance apron is a joy to behold, all frills a furbellows and extremely silly. Possibly slightly sexy, depending on your proclivities. We haven’t performed together for a while so the adrenaline’s running, alright. Very exciting indeed.

 

And talking of exciting, I now have a ticket for Glastonbury. And so does my poetry partner, Stella. Rock’n’Roll Mamma here we come. Leonard Cohen my hero is headlining as well. I would brave all the mud in the world to see him. Of course Glastonbury is rapidly becoming the uncool festival of the year, with ticket sales dribbling on and on because they didn’t sell out to begin with. As it happens, both my older kids are going too, but we will pitch our tents fairly far apart to avoid embarrassing incidents. ‘Don’t buy drugs from anyone you don’t know’, cautioned my daughter when I gave her the news.

 

And here I am staggering to the end of April with my poem-a-day. This is hard, hard, hard and who knows if anything decent will come of it? And how will I ever return to my normal writing pattern afterwards, averaging at maybe three poems a month (not finished ones, you understand, but poems that are worth persisting with). Ah well. My friend Gill recently said to me that she reckons good poetry is not so much to do with craft or inspiration, but that the most important ingredient is courage. Courage to push the boundaries, step out of your comfort zone, try something new. Courage to fail, really. You just have to keep moving or you end up being a pastiche of yourself. Horrible thought.

 

Must go and listen to my new Leonard Cohen music and pack for my gig.