Keats was wrong

I don’t like Keats much anyway – reading Keats is like eating too many sweets, I think; far too rich. And when he wrote an ode to autumn, he was probably high on something. I really, really don’t like autumn – all dying and melancholy. This week the autumn has got to me – I’ve felt useless and I think I’m generally a bad person – but I’m beginning to pick up a bit now.

I did a lot of Poetry on Loan stuff on Monday, together with some of the never-ending emails, and in the evening I went to a TADS meeting. On the bright side, I wrote three poems and saw two squirrels. Tuesday was mostly Poetry on Loan too – there’s a lot going on at the moment – and some prep for a workshop I ran this morning, with my continuation group in Hereford. In the evening I saw King of thieves, which was ok.

Good session at the hospital on Wednesday! In fact, things have been going really well at the hospital recently; I’ve felt that I’ve been helping people, which is always a good feeling. I did some prep for other things, answered emails and started the TADS minutes.

Thursday was a bit special – I was in Birmingham all day, as part of a panel to select the new Birmingham Poet Laureate and Young Poet Laureate. It was a long day, but interesting, and I think we chose the right candidates from strong fields. I finished the TADS minutes when I got home.

Friday was busy with lots of bitty things – accounts, prep for the play I’m directing, decorating, emails, TADS stuff, cleaning, and a proposal to Ledbury Poetry Festival for an event. Hope they take it! And I had a visit from a tree surgeon. I really don’t like cutting trees, but I have some very tall ones, and I have to make sure they’re safe.

I did a bit of work at the weekend but not much; too busy moping about autumn. I’ve kept up with my poem a day for September, though.

And today hasn’t been bad. And let’s face it, none of my days is bad. I should ignore autumn, and definitely ignore Keats, and stop being such a grump. Life’s too short to be grumpy.


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