‘Ghosts,’ I murmured.
Guy turned away from surveying the sea to focus on me. As I observed the state of his hair, his beard and his clothes, I wondered how close to vagabonds we seemed.
It was quite a coup to find that the Eirish Traveller, Adelina, agreed to speak with me in the studio today. Rumours abound about her life and she has the reputation for being incredibly secretive. Ladies and gentlemen, in order to celebrate the launch of The Stumpwork Robe please welcome Adelina.
I’m such a Luddite. Technology and I have mostly been at loggerheads. I have a mobile phone which I keep in the glove-box of the car for roadside emergencies. I have no idea how to text or how to take pics on the phone or how to access text messages. Not sure that I will ever want to or that I really care, and I rarely if ever give my number to anyone. Personally I find mobiles intrusive because many of their owners rarely observe any sort of etiquette. I have a MacBookPro laptop and I can operate it to my satisfaction, but if there are ‘issues’, I sit and look at this piece of aluminium and think ‘Please give me a pad and pencil!’
‘A tack as a part of the tacking maneuver; in which a sailing boat turns its bow through the wind’ (wikipedia)
It must be evident to any who read this blog that I have a predilection for life by the sea. That I love the ocean, being in it, on it or under it.
As new subscribers may not know, I just want to explain what the pillowbook is. Last year I read an ancient Japanese journal entitled The Pillowbook of Sei Shonagon. It was filled with observations, witticisms, self-denigration and acerbic comment. Thus I decided to create my own journal for the blog and you’ll see it pop up every now and then. Really it’s just a bedtime diary …
‘I come from a land down under’ as various biographical notes might indicate. Today’s the twenty sixth of January and is our national day, Australia Day. I woke at 6.30 to an archtypical summer day’s – blue skies forever and the promise of beaches
I spent time huddled in a corner of the deck, a cloak wrapped round fending off the damp of the ocean. Guy took his share of the watch in the dark hours. Just he, Davey and a skeleton crew whilst the others yawned, snored and filled the spaces around me with their odour.