All over Ditchling, the villagers are making scarecrows for the competition for Ditchling Fair which is next Saturday, Rapunzels, footballers,politicians rear up behind hedges in a most surprising way. My back yard is still in the process of being transformed with great care by Jordan, so there is no space or time for scarecrows for me. We drove all over Sussex buying exotic plants on Thursday and went to nurseries where it was a bit like walking through the Borneo jungle, none of the usual garden centres with smelly gift shops for us.
On Friday night J, D and I went to a play(?) in the old Co op building in Brighton (a huge empty department store reminiscent of Are You Being Served) It was loosely linked to The Cherry Orchard by Checkov. I stumbled around, mostly in semi darkness up and down stairs, in dungeon like cellars with strange smells and visual images which were often disturbing even frightening and the short moment when you saw the cherry tree in blossom amongst all the desolation was so sad, I am still procesing the whole experience in my mind.
Yesterday I went to an all day writing workshop in the Unitarian Meeting House, it was lovely and inspirational, also yet another brilliant Bring and Share lunch.This group run a monthly poetry group called The Rattle Bag, sounds promising.