I've Always Hated Extendable Dog Leads

I know hate is a strong emotion and ordinarily I wouldn't use it to describe such a mundane object, but unfortunately this week I had an encounter with an extendable dog lead that I wont forget for a long time.

Reasons I hate extendable dog leads:
1) They allow a dog to build up momentum and pull you over.
2) They break, at weddings, when you're asked to look after someone else's dog!
3) They give dogs a false sense of freedom.
4) They often teach dogs bad habits.
and now 5) The Unforgettable Experience

The Unforgettable Experience

On Friday (13th of course), I was minding my own business doing some vehicle checks on my new work van. It isn't new new, just new to me. I've called her Gypsophilia and I'm trying to look after her as well as I know how. The checks were going well and I was just looking at tyre treads when I noticed a man across the car park struggling with his dog and a wild goose. The dog, whilst on his extendable lead, had run around the goose and managed to get tangled up in its wings.

Now as Wildlife Trust employee, wearing a 'I Love Nature' coat and sitting in a Trust van I felt unable to ignore this predicament. And as I grumbled under my breath 'bloody extendable dog leads' I made my way over to the man and offered some help. The man handed me the dog lead as the clever little pooch managed to wiggle out of it's harness, so desperate was he to get away from the great slapping wings and prodding beak of the bird. So the gent picked up his dog and took him to the car, leaving me stranded in the car park with what appeared to any new onlooker to be a Canadian Goose on a lead! I whispered 'please come back, please come back' as I tried to untangle the bird, getting wing-slapped for my kindness and thank fully the man reappeared, dogless and determined to untangle the mess. He too was slapped away and retreated back to the car for a blanket that was duly ripped from his hands by the stronger than you would think bird. Sensing that all was lost as the giant goose dragged us ever closer to the lake I began to suggest that we contact the RSPB, then all of a sudden there was Cliff. Cliff the saviour, like a Matador he waved the blanket in front of the goose and within seconds 'dink!' the lead hit the ground and the bird waddled away.

In the end it was a bit of an anti-climatic ending to an event that probably lasted only a few minutes. I resisted the urge to suggest to the man that he buy a different type of dog lead and instead asked him to check my break and reverse lights, after which we thanked each other and went our separate ways. I think I'll avoid spending too much time in the work car park from now on.

They are Still Rounding up the Horses

My thoughts are often scrambled,
I have to unwind my mind,
A journey, for meditation.
Nobody knows it but a gate is fallen.

I started from the south,
A reptile with a kick,
And wind my way up east before north.
Reports of an equine escape.

My tangled trail unravels,
Past turbines, cities and seasides,
Into the land of fathers; ancient and beautiful.
Hooves stamp and echo amongst the engines.

I continue past food and mountains,
I stop
Red kites swoop and feed.
Twenty or so are loose, non injured.

Lakes and hedges pass and grab my thoughts,
The sun has moved, rise and release,
Hours pass and I pass ours.
Somewhere the road is closed, the police have arrived.

I have arrived,
Like a neat ball of wool,
Though I feel better.
They are still rounding up the horses.

Challenge no. 7: 100 word flash fiction (to be record)

I was reading in Mslexia magazine about how there are loads of women out there writing and writing but most of what they write never gets submitted into competitions or for publication. I find my problem is slightly different, I love the idea of writing but I hardly ever seem to put it into practice. So I've set myself a challenge for October; I've written down 31 different writing challenges, some easy, some hard and folded them up into a box. Some are as simple as '100 flash fiction' and others 'spend an hour working on that novel you've been meaning to write for two years.'

So far so good, I've stuck to my challenges for a week and I'm quite enjoying the results. I wasn't intending to post any of them, as because as they are quick challenges the results are not very polished, but seeing as it's National Poetry Day I thought I might just share my '100 word flash fiction (to be recorded)' that turned out to read more like a poem...

'On one, stacked black morning, whilst walking Jack-attack,
I came across a shambled shack, deep down in cackling wood.
The Trees were dense down, in the dark and mossy oaked corner,
Above the door was a crooked name and a crow cawked on the roof.
I swear I saw the shadow of a hand, on the window sill,
I backed away into the black stacked morning.
Tip toed away to safety, with Jack-attack,
Packed next to me.'

Wild Life: A Snow White Complex

Two things happened the other day that I wasn’t expecting.

1. I got offered a job as Wildplay Officer for Staffordshire Wildlife Trust
2. We found a ferret in the garage

After my interview a dandelion seed flew in through one of my car windows, it danced around my windscreen for a few seconds and flew straight back out again. I remember thinking maybe it was a sign; maybe I should make a wish.

About half an hour after I got the call offering me the job, we decided to go for a celebratory drive in the MG (it’s not ours we are just babysitting it for a while) and as we opened the garage door Si stood back in shock. ‘What’s that!’

There was a small white animal poking it’s head out from under the car, sniffing the air and totally unafraid. A pet, lost in the maze of gardens in the village. To be honest I was a little afraid, I had a bad hamster when I was younger and just kind of assume small fluffy things are going to bite. But it turned out this little fellow was very friendly and even allowed Si to pick him up.

A couple of inquiries later and satisfied we weren’t going to find his owner quickly (our neighbours said they had seen him a couple of times over the last few months behind their shed) I took him off to the local vets.

As he settled into his cage he rubbed his fluffy head and back into the bedding and I’m sure he smiled as the vet cooed and petted him. She promised to find his owner but she seemed so smitten I wouldn’t be surprised if he was sitting on her sofa with her right now.

Now I’m not saying the two things are linked, I get a job with the Wildlife Trust and suddenly I’m rescuing animals from the garage! However I have been thinking about buying the makeup to make my ‘skin as white as now, my lips as red as blood’ and dying my hair ‘as black as ebony.’ You know so I can be ‘the fairest of them all.'

The Sundew Barmaid

Many years ago a scientist came to live in Cadair Idris to explore the plants and wild life living in the area. He had been warned that strange things happened in the Welsh hills and that some people never returned. He ignored the warnings and booked a room at a local Inn. As an outsider nobody was nice to the scientist except for one of the barmaids. This barmaid was beautiful with long red hair, she was very quiet but she always smiled when she delivered his food. She wasn’t normally the sort of girl he would have fallen for but he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Everyday the scientist went walking in The Blanket Bog, this is an area on the gentler slopes of Cadair Idris, and was named so because of its wet and acidic terrain that was low in nutrients and had little to offer plants. The scientist was so distracted by the beautiful barmaid that he didn’t see any plants, he just thought of her all day long.

One day when he returned back from a wet and miserable day in the bog he found a plant specimen outside his door. It had no note but as the barmaid was the only person to ask him about his work he guessed it was from her. The plant had red hairy leaves that always seemed to be crying, it always had dew droplets hanging from its spiky hair and so the scientist called it Sundew. He noticed that the dew drops still gathered even though the plant was inside and realized that it wasn’t dew at all, the plant was indeed crying, droplets were produced by the plant, but why? The crying plant reminded him of the beautiful barmaid and how sad he was that he couldn’t tell her how he felt. The scientist stared longingly at the Sundew plant into the night and watched the flies dance around in the fading light. He saw a fly get caught in one of the plants tears and watched in amazement as the fly struggled but could not get free, he was stunned to see the leaf of the plant begin to curl, trapping the fly inside. Over the next few days he saw the same act over and over again as the carnivorous plant ate fly after fly.

On his next walk he spotted the Sundew growing in the Blanket Bog, every time it reminded him of the barmaid. As he stood up from examining one plant he saw a figure walking in the distance. At first glance he thought it was the young barmaid, he shouted and ran towards the figure that seemed to try and run away but stumbled and fell. As he reached the person he noticed that it was an old lady with straggled red and grey hair and who looked very familiar, the woman's bag was full of the Sundew plant. He escorted her home and she invited him in for a cup of tea as a thank you, as he entered her house he noticed an array of Sundew plants in her home, he also saw hundreds of vials of liquid. When he excused himself to use the toilet he saw lots of vials at her dressing table and next to the bath. He had a strange thought and suddenly couldn’t get the image of the Sundew plant wrapping their leaves around the flies out of his head. He returned downstairs and tried to make excuses to leave but the lady kept on thinking of reasons for him to stay and help. At one point she left him alone and he went to open the front door but it was locked, he heard her coming back downstairs and was shocked to see not an old lady but the young red haired barmaid.

Like many men that visit Cadair Idris the scientist was never seen again and people say when they are walking in the Blanket Bog on Cadair Idris they see an old lady collecting Sundew in her bag. Some say she walks the roads of the local town selling vials of what she claims is the elixir of youth.

Transition: a Stickle Epiphany

A young woman climbed a wonderful mountain. It was a mountain she had pondered for some time and bravely climbed alone all the way to the top. When she reached the summit she found she was happy and she began exploring the rocks, lichen and plants that lived on the mountain. She spent so much time looking an the beautiful details of the mountain and was having such a lovely time she didn't question the clouds that began to form all around her. As she enjoyed exploring the wonderful mountain the clouds would sometimes break and another mountain would come into view, but the woman was not interested in other mountains. This was the mountain she wanted to be on.

After a while the woman began to be intrigued by the other mountains that came into view, sometimes they looked interesting too, but they all seemed so far away. The more the clouds hid the other mountains the more the woman began to wonder what they were like.

One day the clouds broke to reveal a saddle, a path that led away from the wonderful mountain. The young woman was unsure but once again bravely took the first steps towards the next mountain. As she approached the summit of the new mountain the clouds began to clear, the sky was a hazy blue and gradually other mountains started to appear in the distance. This mountain was challenging but the view was inspiring, all around her were hundreds more mountains, as far as she could see and beyond.

The wonderful mountain from before was still in her heart but from the inspiring mountain the woman saw many new paths and opportunities. She knew her time on the inspiring mountain was limited and that she would soon be taking on her next challenge. It might not be as easy as the path on the saddle but she knew it would feel just a good to stand on top of any or all of the other mountains. She just had to choose they way.

Colouring books and Baby books

At the moment most of the books I am making are for gifts, for people who like drawing and making notes, for people with new born babies and for the babies themselves. I recently made a colouring book for a two year old girl, it was personalised with things I know she sees most days, with words to colour in and her name on the front page. I put it into a pretty cover so that her mum could carry it around in her stylish handbag.

I also made this pretty little new born baby book for a little girl down in Plymouth.

I'm not sure how this is helping The Paper Cafe but I am enjoying all of the making!!

Going Solo and Business Card Booklets!

I cannot decide if I am brave or stupid but in five days I will be leaving my 'dream job' working as a centre based Outdoor Education Instructor and going it alone, well not quite. I have a part time job lined up for the first few months to give myself some time to get sorted: 3.5 days work vs 3.5 days to do my thing seems like a much more equal life/work balance. This weekend I am making plans, sorting out insurances and DBS checks, it's not my first time being self employed so I've got a bit of a head start but it's still going to be hard work, exciting times!

There is no real plan yet apart from having a bit more control over my own life, working for a company I actually care about and of course getting The Paper Cafe off the ground. Quite optimistically I've started making these business card booklets, small enough to fit in your wallet and useful, but still with all of the relevant info to spread the word! (I love the graph paper I found tucked in the back of a charity shop).

I've already started devising some Paper Cafe themed workshops for schools that I hope to start promoting after the summer holidays and I've got plans to keep outdoors by insuring myself as an outdoor practitioner and getting involved with the Wildlife trust too! So many plans and so little time, I think I'll be busier in my free time than when I'm in work!

Five Pounds: The Possibilities

So after experimenting with a few different book making techniques I've decided to stick to the beautiful simplicity of a small hand stitched note book, made from carefully selected materials. Each little notebook feels like an individual piece of artwork and I enjoy making them just that little bit more.

I've also had my first sale, whoop! A friend really liked the miniature notebooks so she bought 5 for £5 which I'm really pleased with. We have a mutual love of notebooks and so I know they are going to a good home. This also put me in the dilemma of what I do with the £5?  Do I ...

- Splurge on a bottle of wine to celebrate?
- Buy some more materials to make more books?
- Put the money towards a table at a fair?
- Frame it.

My favourite option is putting the money towards a table at a fair. I have no idea how much fairs cost but I've already got lots of materials to get making with. In fact that seems like a good challenge to set myself: See how many elegant little books I can make with the materials I already have!

Better get to the studio!

(note to self: research fairs and prices.)

Trying a New Technique

I've made myself a book press to try out a new bookmaking technique. The process looks really nice and I'm happy with the results, but I miss the delicacy and intimacy that comes with a hand stitched book.

I've used a V&A carrier bag for the cover and some floral sticky back paper I found in Lidl of all places, I quite like the idea of using reclaimed materials. The cover has worked really well and the A7 size is perfect.

I have seen a video of a different bookbinding technique that I'm going to try next, lots more stitching, watch this space...

Walkers (Elegant) Journal

I am hoping to do my Mountain Leader training this year and go out walking a lot but I find it really hard to record the walks we do. The log books that the Mountain Training England provide are practical but not inviting, especially when bound in a cumbersome clip file. As a result I recently ended up with a quick list on my phone as the only record of the walks I had done in the past six months.

I decided to solve the problem with this elegant little notebook. It's a lovely item that I don't mind taking away on holiday with me, it can be easily slipped into a rucksack to fill in on the hill, or can be kept safe in the tent or camper van to fill in with a glass of wine at the end of the day. It has named boxes that make it easier for you to remember the details for your Mountain Training log book or it can just be used as a reference for future walks.

Flash Fiction: Send

I've seen a few competitions with a Flash Fiction category and really like the sound of it. The requirements are a story of either 100 words or 250 words and I've attempted an entry, unfortunately it is 500 words long and I'm struggling to cut it down. It is also my first attempt at science fiction. Here is is...

Send - By Katie May Shipley

Clara left Mark in bed and made her usual way up the mountainside. She paused to take in the lichen encrusted stonewalls, the twisted oak trees and looked out across the mountain range that surround her. When she came to Blaenau 30 years ago she had not expected to fall so completely for the landscape, the language and Mark. She had put off making her decision for over ten years now and it was finally time. Clara continued along the winding path towards the woods that she had arrived at all that time ago; the same trees stood but were further bent and creaking. They bowed down onto the hood of her vehicle.

She had been compiling her report since arrival; it had started as simple as the last job. Regular sample updates, increasing pollution levels, assessment of natural resources. To begin with nothing had been right, she was ready to leave after 5, then 10, then 15 years but something made her stay. She had left behind a failed marriage and Mark had picked her up, made her smile and she had allowed herself to see a future, one that belonged in this beautiful place. If only she could tell him the truth.

Clara entered the now ancient aerodyme, she flicked on the computer deck and re-read both reports. The first said pollution levels were still too low, that there was no point continuing investigations. If she sent it life could continue as it was, she could go back and curl up in bed with Mark, destroy the aerodyme and enjoy the welsh countryside for the rest of her life. The second report read the truth, air pollution levels had reached an all time high and the earth’s atmosphere was suitable for a scouting party. It would lead to a series of invasions and ultimately the destruction of everything she now cared for. She would be sent away to the next planet to begin more research and would be left with only memories of this place. The survival of her species lay in her hands.

Her finger hovered over the button when she heard footsteps approaching; the familiar slow steps meant only one person. She rushed out to disguise the aerodyme and to greet him with a distracting hug. As she wrapped her arms around him she decided she had nothing to lose, nothing she wasn’t going to lose anyway.  He listened as she spoke. Shocked at first, but patient. Did he think she was mad? He didn’t run away, he wasn’t afraid, he said nothing and hugged her again. He held her close; she felt safe and warm and then something else.

A pain, a dizziness, she stumbled away from him as her blood soaked her clothes and dripped off his knife. He silently watched her fold to the floor, ignoring her gasps and pleading hands. He turned to the computer desk, easily navigated the complicated system, he clicked send.

There would be no invasion, but there would be no future either.

I've got a plan

I decided to make a plan poster to encourage me to keep working on The Paper Cafe, I'm going to put it up in the office and try to achieve something on the list every day.

I'm currently working on some poems for a few competitions. One is inspired by the Tommy Jones obelisk up in the mountains in the Breacon Beacons. The obelisk reads:

'This obelisk marks the spot where the body of Tommy Jones aged 5 was found. He lost his way between Cwm Llwch farm and the Login on the night of August 4th 1900. After an anxious search of 29 days his remains were discovered Sept [2nd]. Erected by voluntary subscriptions. W Powell Price Mayor of Breacon 1901.'

It's a sad story but I like to think quite magical too...

The Paper Cafe

The first time I walked into Maxine's Cafe in Llangollen when I was a little girl I decided that I wanted to have my own second hand book shop. The building appears to be an old theatre, unique bits of architecture mixed in with all of the beautiful books with space downstairs for a cuppa and watching the world go by.

Whilst volunteering at The AirSpace Gallery years later I visited The Arts Organisation in Nottingham and that confirmed it. I walked past the box of books to swap and stepped into the cafe, a jumble of mix and match chairs, a huge selection of teas, some old school computers for internet access, an art exhibition in the back and upstairs studios. Wow! This is exactly the kind of atmosphere I want to create! I went on to be part of an exhibition in the gallery and if I'm ever in the city it would be the first place I'd head to.

I have no idea where The Paper Cafe will be, but it's going to happen one day and I can't wait!