charles barrow's writing

This, really, is a reminder to myself that I shouldn't give up on things so easily. I've just picked up a book that I gave up on reading previously, and I'm really enjoying it. The book was a smash hit, bestseller back in the early 90s. It was the title that everyone was reading that year, and it was a critical success as well as a commercial one. Of course, I jumped on that bandwagon, and I bought it, and I dove right in, and... I hit a brick wall. It doesn't happen often that I give up on a book, but it does happen sometimes, and it happened with this one. I struggled, so I closed the book, and put it down. But, here's the thing, the author did his job on me. The echo of the book never left me, even after decades. The flavour of it lingered. I don't know whether it was the characters, or the atmosphere, or the insights into a different culture that fascinated me, or a mixture of all of those things, but it put a hook deep into me and I never managed to shake i...

  Are we still in lockdown? I know that people in some parts of the country are back in lockdown, but here in the south, where I live, we aren't (technically) though many of our freedoms are still curtailed, or re-curtailed (if that's even a word), so it certainly feels as though I'm still living in the shadow of it. Maybe I'll have to find a new word to use in my headings that better sums the up the new reality of where we are. Anyway, the thrust of this post is intended to be about the learning that I've done over the past few months as a way of reminding myself that I haven't just been resting on my laurels, or wallowing in self pity on a full-time basis. I've not been standing still, there has been forward motion, albeit at a stately pace. I've completed two on-line writing courses over the summer. The first was about memoir writing, and I did it through the DailyOm website. I have no intention of writing my memoirs, but it looked like a really inter...

Lockdown continues to ease, but not all my anxieties ease along with it. Few aspects of life seem like normal life yet. I wear a mask on the bus, and on the train. I wear a mask in the supermarket. Outside the Apple store an employee wants to take my temperature before I'm allowed to enter. I ask her what will happen if I test positive for a high temperature; will I just be turned away? Will she offer me follow up advice? Counselling? She seems confused by my questions, and doesn't attempt to answer them. I feel bad that I asked her, though I think my questions are legitimate. I feel bad for her that she's out here alone on the frontline, facing people like me who ask awkward questions. I'm not happy but I allow her to take my temperature, and I pass the test, so she asks me to join a queue to get through the front door of the store. I'm vaguely relieved to learn that I'm not being turned away, and that I have no discernible sign of illness, but I don't want...

I'd been giving myself a lot of grief lately, because I'd not been working on my current writing project (WIP = work in progress). I just couldn't settle down to it. The weird conundrum of lockdown is that I suddenly have acres of spare time but no drive or energy to do anything much with it. And that time has been passing, those days have been racking up into months, and my WIP hasn't gotten any fatter (unlike yours truly). But, what I'd been forgetting is that I have been working on drabbles, in a different notebook, all this time. Everyday, in fact, I work on the latest, like some people might work on the daily crossword. I do think of them as a form of puzzle to be solved...'write a story, in exactly 100 words.' They are tricky things to get right, using the exact right words (as I've said here before) and I enjoy the challenge. Anyway, what I've only just realised is that these ultra short stories I've been working on are directly related to...

Lockdown has forced many of us to live more insular lives. We've been confined to our homes, and been unable to socialise with others, unless it's been remotely, online. We've been unable to venture out into the wider world, and so that world, at least for me, has shrunk to the size of a laptop screen. That screen is now the window through which I look to find my entertainment, my inspiration, and my news. But a lot of that news has been very troubling and downright disturbing. The virus is still lurking and waiting to spike again, despite government reassurances. Images of police brutality against another black man fill my screen, and despite an outpouring of righteous anger in cities across the globe, our leaders don't appear to be listening to the people, or perhaps they just don't care, and think they can ride it out because anger will always burn back down to a simmer. It's hard to be saturated with this news and not roil with frustration, resentment, and f...

There are blessings to be counted. Sure, there have been dark times, during these dark days of lockdown, both emotionally and psychologically, but we have been blessed with the best spring weather that I can remember. So, I've been able to spend much time out of doors, in the garden, in nature, in the sunshine. Also, on walks around the neighbourhood, and further afield. And during this time I've heard some beautiful birdsong, there is a local blackbird that is looking to break the world record for the longest and most beautiful song ever sung, and I've seen some stunning sights. Here's one. Scarlet poppies against an azure sky. Spirits lifted. Job done Mother Nature. Photo is the author's own.

It's been a sunny Sunday morning, with a chilly bite to the breeze but, still, a great day for gardening. I was out there for hours, with a break for lunch, and finally got around to doing some of the tasks that I've been meaning to do for weeks. I cut down a couple of dead shrubs, pruned the overgrown ornamental grass, re-potted the small myrtle. And I sowed carrot and beetroot seeds. And marigold, nasturtium, and dwarf sunflower seeds for a bit of colour in the summer. And I pottered around for a while, without aim. This is a vitally important part of gardening. Empty your mind, and wander around, trowel in hand but with no particular aim, other than to admire the plants. It's the emptying of the mind that is the important part. Existing in neutral for a while. I had a down day yesterday. No energy, dark thoughts, no wish to do anything, say anything, read or write anything. I probably wouldn't have eaten much either if dinner hadn't been cooked for me. I've...

Back in February I wrote a post about preparing to move home, and making plans for the future. Well, what's that saying about God laughing while we make plans? As I was writing that, Covid-19 must have been in the news, albeit as a problem on a distant horizon, a problem that would surely never affect us here in England, but it clearly wasn't alarming enough for me to make mention of it, or think for one moment that it would affect the whole world to the degree that it has. I had no idea either, of course, that I'd lose my mum less than two months later. She was poorly, but she'd been poorly several times before and she'd pulled through. So circumstances change, and plans change with them. Back in Feb I was planning to find a new job, a new challenge to take my life in a different direction. Now I plan what I might have for lunch, what I could cook for dinner that would make a nice change. I plan to visit the supermarket, two days hence and remember the celery thi...

One of the few silver linings of this lockdown malarky is that the pace of life has slowed down. The frenetic pace of life that we were expected to maintain, which was quite frankly exhausting, is something that I don't miss at all. Now I can move around the house and garden at my own pace. I can study the flower borders to see what's happening down there at ground level. I can study the pots in the greenhouse, where I have sown chilli, tomato, courgette, squash, basil and coriander seeds. I can check them at hourly intervals. I am learning the art of patience. I can sit on the garden bench and watch, and listen to, the song birds squabble at the feeders. I can study the buds on the apple and almond trees, and make note, every day, as more of those buds burst open, and the trees are gradually covered in pastel pink blossoms. I can also take the time, with my small fishing net, to catch and release all the flying insects that trap themselves inside the conservatory, I've got...

As I type this, 99 year old Captain Tom Moore has completed 100 laps of his garden, ahead of his 100 th  birthday, and raised over £18 million for NHS charities. It’s an astounding achievement, and you’d have to have a heart of stone not to be moved by his determination, and the way people worldwide have come together and rallied behind him. There are, and will be, many more positive stories to come out of the strange times we find ourselves living in, and they are being reported daily across the news feeds, and we need to hear them; we need cheery news, and news that we can cheer. And I hope to write posts of a more positive bent, than I’m about to, in the coming weeks because my daily reality is not all gloom and doom, but today I’m going to focus on loss, because loss is also a part of my day too. We’ve all lost a lot of things recently. Intimacy is the first thing that springs to mind. I can’t remember the last time I gave someone a hug. It was such a commonplace part ...

It's 15 days since I last posted, about Covid-19, and in that time the world has been upended. On a Macro scale things have become nightmarish, with hundreds dying in every country, and society as we knew it (certainly in the West) changing out of all recognition. The Macro, informs the Micro, of course, and individually our lives and routines have had to change and adapt too. But amongst the wholesale changes, I've managed to hold on to a few familiar things. I suspect we've all latched on to certain things that are still available and familiar and make us feel more secure in uncertain times. For me, my morning exercises (after coffee) are something that I can continue with, speaking with family and friends, texting and emailing continues too (perhaps more frequently now). Listening to the radio. Gazing out of the window at trees and clouds, a simple pleasure I've always enjoyed and can continue to enjoy. And walking is still allowed to us too, in fact it's encoura...