Jacey Bedford writes…
If you want to know all about Milford SF writers’ weeks take a look here.
This is Day Two, since yesterday, Day One, was our arrival day and getting-to-know-each-other day. Milford is always a mixture of newcomers and old hands. We ring-fence five places for writers who have never been before. There are usually fifteen participants, but since we had one late drop-out (for unavoidable reasons) there are only fourteen of us this year. It doesn’t take long for everyone to integrate. This was the scene in the library last night after dinner. Much chat and several bottles of wine.
We had a particularly bad journey yesterday, driving east to west across the Pennines and along the North Wales Expressway. The motorway was closed off at Manchester airport necessitating a diversion which said follow signs. Err… what signs? Luckily I’d given a lift to John whose phone and google maps navigated us around the blockage. Even so, with that, and subsequent traffic jams our three and a half hour journey turned into nearly six hours. Instead of arriving early as I’d intended, we were almost the last to arrive.
Trigonos (trigonos.org) is lovely and peaceful. As we drove into the car park I could feel the stress of the journey dissolving away. Cake and a cuppa awaited us, and a load of friendly faces.
The group had already begun to gel.
The real work starts today. We all circulate pieces for critique and discussion beforehand. This year I managed to get all the reading done in advance, so instead of a last minute scramble to catch up, I have mornings free, to live-blog, to read, and review the crits ahead of the three pieces we’ll be discussing in the formal crit session after lunch. I might even get time to write though… my room is at the back of the house and staring out of the window is a default option. Instead of a grand view across the lawns to the lake, which is the view from the other side of the house, I look out over the secret garden. It’s not so secret, but it is a lovely walled garden which lives behind a gate. This morning there’s a black cat sitting patiently at the gate. It’s been there for about half an hour.
I took this photo, turned back to my laptop to download it, and when I looked up the cat had vanished. Schrodinger’s something-or-other comes to mind.
I’m going to try to get everyone to add to this live-blog throughout the week. Watch this space.