Snowy start to spring

Pics of the great house at Annamakerrig, otherwise known as the Tyrone Guthrie Centre for Writers and Artists, and the lake in front of it from the far side - a bit mucky but worth the walk.

So, there we were in March, and we thought spring had finally arrived, but it turned out that winter still had a sting in its tail to deliver.Still, I've had a great time sorting out my poems, writing a few more and letting some air into the cobwebbed spaces that were my mind. I feel refreshed, recharged and ready to face the next few weeks...!

The snow is now melting here and the sun is quite warm - and it's April.

Annamakerrig Awaits

I'll be off writing for a whole week, undisturbed (sans hub, sans kids, sans everything - bar the sense), at the Tyrone Guthrie Centre for Artists and Writers.

Tyrone Guthrie, playwright, was a rare spirit. He gifted his estate, deep in the drumlins of Co. Monaghan, to the Irish state upon his death in 1971, as a place to be developed for giving artists a space to work in.

I've already received a couple of bursary residencies to this magical place, last year (one lot from Dundalk Town Council, another from the centre itself), and by the Goddess did I make the most of those three weeks.

This coming week is my last gifted week there, making the most of Tyrone Guthrie's far-sighted hospitality, which is continued through the friendly staff who mind the place on his behalf, for us writers and artists: Guests of the Nation, indeed!

Thanks TG.

Busy, Busy Busy

Tomorrow the last of my offspring, Sinead, makes her First Holy Communion. She will wear the same white dress that her two older sisters wore - I'm not a great believer in spending more than needs be. I take after my mother in that respect!

I'm then heading to the Tyrone Guthrie Centre at Annamakerrig on Sunday for a week long of writing. It's one of the residential weeks that I won as a bursary, from both Dundalk Town Council and the Tyrone Guthrie Centre itself.

I've already printed off some of the materials that I might work on. I'm thinking 'torture implements,' but I'm not sure what I'll do with them yet. I'm a little bit concerned about how these ones here at home will cope without someone to clean up and wash up after them, but I know I shouldn't be. I won't miss that at AMK.

Imagine: not having to get up and interrupt work because I've to make dinner, or peg out clothes, or wash the floor, or vacuum the sitting room, or fill the washing machine, or do the shopping, or bring someone to the dentist, or fix the toilet, or ... Just imagine: no-one's needs to tend to but my own, no interruptions - in fact absolutely no excuses for not writing!

I'll see you all on the far side, in a week's time. I'm not allowing myself on the internet while I'm there!

Another Prize!

I got home from doing the shopping, the usual trawl around the local supermarket to get all the stuff we ran out of during the month, like pasta and rice and lasagne sheets, to find a letter on the front door mat.

The letter was from the Tyrone Guthrie Centre to tell me that I was the recipient of the Annie Deeny Prize for 2008/09. What does this mean?

Well, in their own words: The Annie Deeny Memorial Prize was launched by distinguished poet Fleur Adcock in May 2004. Mrs Annie Deeny was a teacher and mother of six children who, although she wrote, never sought to have her work published. This perpetual prize is in her memory to encourage someone in a similar situation to write and to publish. It provides a two-week residency at the Tyrone Guthrie Centre at Annaghmakerrig.

Ironic, that I too have six children, isn't it? So, I'm now getting a total of four weeks away this year to write: on my ownsome...and no food to worry about... Just as well my husband is taking me out to dinner tonight: now we have more to celebrate!