I remember telling Junior Reader about old trams one time – the kind where the tram couldn’t turn round when it reached the end of the line.
So the seats would be manually flipped up to face the opposite direction – and the driver would change ends. And, of course, the passengers would need to disembark. All change, ladies and gentlemen, all change.
I don’t know quite who I am in this little snapshot of life at the moment – maybe everyone. The driver, the ticket collector flipping up the seats, the passengers.
We are well. We are just going through a lot of change right now. Good change, but big change. It is hard to write about because of various factors, not least the emotions being about three stops behind where the tram is at the moment.
Last time we had an all change moment, I wasn’t here at the helm of the blog. Sometimes there is just so much to do in the all change flurry that there are very few spare thoughts to channel towards a place of words.
It took time to write again – and time to decide what to write about. And I feel somewhat the same at the moment. It’s not just really coming to the end of the route and back again (which blows the tram image somewhat, but never mind).
There is a new route now. I don’t know what I’m going to see along the way.
I suspect I will still be as much in love with children’s books as I am now (maybe more so).
I hope I will still gain as much pleasure from smelling flowers and seeing our local pigeon formation team, and all those other moments that are out there.
I’m sure there will be more of the same. But there may be new things to see. And much of the time I’ll be getting to know the new route, working out where to stop, trying to keep the journey smooth.
I hope I will also be able to lift my head more at times. Be a passenger, an observer. Admire the view as I too pass through it.
Forgive the over-extended metaphor. Because much as I believe that words can fix most things, and explain others, sometimes it is harder to fit them to the task.
Sometimes, we are not even in the tram. We are out at the front, quarrying away at the route, smelting the rails to keep us moving. We are out there, chipping away, hoping that something will emerge out of the hard labour.
I don’t know where the words will be for the next stretch of the journey. I may be able to drive towards them, and I may have to use dynamite to find them if they are buried for a while.
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So here’s what it comes to. This month, there’s a few posts lined up, ready to go. I may be able to add a few more, we’ll see.
July is going to be post-lite – which is fine. Because hopefully you’re off out there too, living your summer, enjoying your own moments. You’ll have plenty to be going on with.
I don’t want to have another big blog hiatus if I can manage it. But we’ll see how it all goes. And I’m sure by the autumn, there’ll be that natural pull towards writing again, and I’ll be able to say something about the view at that point.
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I sit and write, just before the house stirs into action. I sit and write, because there is a moment now, and because there are some words within it.
And because I still need those words – I always will – to carry me along my route.