Tag: writing

• Charlotte the Pig is Feeling Poorly

  She has started limping quite badly. And a fat pig limping is a very sorry sight.  It is  one of her back legs below that rather large ham of a butt-hock. Sorry Char had to say it. I have called around and on occasion a pig will pull a muscle when they are young and…

  Cecilia Mary Gunther

  November 1, 2012

  Farming, nanowrimo, Photography, Writing

  daily view, Nanowrimo, peacock, peahens, temperature chart, writing, Yesterdays Temperatures

• NaNoWriMo – Let’s Take our Characters for a Walk: Everyone can Play!

  When I was a teacher of drama, in a high school in New Zealand, we would frequently devise characters for  improvised plays.  One of the exercises, when we were devising, was called Take your Character for a Walk.  Everyone in the classroom would assume his or her favourite character,  then the students would move about…

  Cecilia Mary Gunther

  October 30, 2012

  nanowrimo, Writing

  drama, Nanowrimo, writing

• Big Dog’s Coat of Not Many Colours

  It was cold today. I mean not too cold.  My words are too short. I feel I should be writing something poetic about the approaching winter and I know that Smidge would say this with a whole lot more elegance and poetry but there was a wintry feel to the air that blew around our…

  Cecilia Mary Gunther

  October 27, 2012

  Farming, Humour, Photography, Writing

  cows eye, Dog Coat, images, little cat, Nanowrimo, photography, story development, writing

• Decisions: Managing the household and farm during NanoWriMo

  I have made a few decisions. The hardest decision is to give up my night time White Russian made with home made Coffee Liquer and raw milk. We will not discuss the Vodka as it is against the law in America to have a Still. I will only drink tea in the evenings in November.…

  Cecilia Mary Gunther

  October 24, 2012

  Farming, Life, Photography, Writing

  kittens, Nanowrimo, The Daily View, The kitchen’s garden, timetable, writing, Yesterdays Temperatures

• The boy, the Tree and the Fence

  Summer feet smell different. Sturdier, rugged,  a shiny honest dirt smell.  At the start of summer we inch and pick our way in  bare feet across the stones to the sand. By the late summer we stream barefoot across the carpark, through the beach weeds, over the gravel and through the hot sand to the…

  Cecilia Mary Gunther

  September 16, 2012

  Stories, Writing

  short story, writing