What if you meet a lion ... in Windsor?

Sabre's visit to Windsor 

It was a fine summer's evening.   Sabre was free, thanks to the new zoo keeper's incompetence at closing time.  He  made a dash for freedom setting off lights, alarms and sirens.  His old legs ran and ran and ran until he was well into the thick of the town centre stopping only to quench his thirst and feed on some discarded leftovers. He was tired now and hungry. He didn't have so much energy these days. His fierce, fast and ferocious days were dwindling.  As he wandered, he came upon a traveller asleep in a the shop doorway.   He tiptoed quietly and gazed upon the slumbering minstrel in her dreamlike world. Surely his good fortune could not last?  A veritable feast lay before him.  He raised his eyes heavenly in grateful thanks.  The old all-knowing moon shook her head with a definite, 'No!'

The minstrel stirred and woke to find Sabre towering above her.

'Oh, spare me sir, don't make me your supper.  I'm a weary traveller in need of some rest.  My guitar has magical powers and if you request,  I can charm cheeses, wine and food of the best'.

Sabre thought to himself, 'What a treat .. a travelling minstrel and one who can conjure up food with a tune'.  For a tired old lion without any teeth this was a wonderful find.  Perhaps the minstrel and he could become better acquainted?

Okay, okay ... just a little storytelling today.  Sabre, (not his real name), I met on a recent visit to Windsor town centre. I found him not far from Windsor Castle ..yes the Windsor Castle, the location of several royal weddings over the years.  Currently there are many beautifully painted lions in the area, each one standing colourful and proud.  The Lions Sculpture Trail is a public art initiative from The Royal Borough of Windsor and Maidenhead.  As well as a public art display for one and all to enjoy, the lions will be sold at the end of the viewing season to generate funds for three local charities.

What a great way to enjoy outdoor art and donate to a great cause at the same time.

Before I left, Sabre whispered quietly, 'Come back again and meet my colourful colleagues and bring your friends too!'

Not all lions are as talkative as Sabre, but a lion trail map is available (from the Information centre) for a nominal sum and a fun day out.  Enjoy! 
    

Stitched Up

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The Man has been trying out his new camera lens this weekend. I attended a writing workshop and met some lovely people there. This picture captured my imagination for a story.

She stood across the street staring at the window. She knew it would fit perfectly. She just knew it. She had painstakingly sewed every single stitch of that dress under the watchful eye of Madame Fontaine. Madame ensured that all her dressmakers were needlewomen of the highest calibre. Years of training in the fashion houses of Paris meant that when Madame came to London, her expectations were so high that only the best seamstresses were employed in her workrooms. Kitty Delamere worked in Madame’s rooms in Windsor and was one of her finest needlewomen.

“Go on, try it on Kitty, we won’t tell,” shouted Daisy.

“I couldn’t. What if Madame came in?” said Kitty.

“Go on, I dare you, Kitty. We’ll watch out for Madame,” cajoled Esther from across the workroom table.

Kitty had spent weeks stitching the intricate mother of pearl beading onto the bodice and around the neckline. She took great care not to snag the thread or pinprick the silk of this exquisite gown. She held the beautiful white wedding dress in her arms and gently caressed the softness of the material. What a fine gown for a beautiful lady, she thought.

Her thoughts drifted to her own impending wedding to her sweetheart Edward, a war photographer who had been posted to the front line. There had been no correspondence from him for weeks.

“Hurry up, Kitty. Try it on. Pretend that you’re the bride,” giggled Daisy, the youngest seamstress.

With a little help from the girls, Kitty Delamere carefully donned the wedding gown. She took great care not to allow the train of the dress to trail along the workroom floor. It fitted her perfectly, as if it had been made for her. It felt good, really good. She felt elegant and beautiful. She felt like a lady. She wished that Edward could see her. She knew she could never afford one of Madame’s fine gowns on a seamstress’s wage of four shillings a week.

“Oh Kitty, don’t you look a proper lady,” quipped an fascinated Daisy.

The door opened suddenly.

Madame’s tall and wiry frame filled the doorway.

She shrieked loudly in her flowing French accent, “Kitty Dela-meere, the dress, take it off this minute!”

The girls reeled back in horror. Kitty blushed furiously at being caught. She stepped out of the wedding gown and made her way to the office to endure the wrath of the outraged Madame.

Ready for Hemingway time?

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I've been giving some thought to Tom's comment on my blog (12.08.09) about Hemingway getting up before 5.00am to write every morning. I would really like to try that a few times to see if it would work for me and find out how it might enhance my writing. Could be interesting. Truth is, I can be a 'bit of a grump' early mornings. My Man will vouch for that, he's more of an early bird than me. I'm sure that comes from years of early morning rowing on the river Thames, before he goes to work, before everyone is awake, before most of the traffic hits the roads, before the rats in the rat race start running.

As for me, well I know that I can DO early mornings, yes even a 5.00am start! There have been the occasional early morning flights to the Emerald Isle to visit family when I've wanted to extend a weekend trip. There were times (some time ago) when I organised business breakfast meetings with a colleague of mine. Last October I completed 'The Sunrise Walk', fundraising for the local hospice. The registration time was 5.00am! I remember it well, a very dark, wet, autumnal morning with hundreds of other ladies. We walked through Great Windsor Park and surrounding areas suitably attired in black and orange tee shirts wearing gold and silver glitter wigs! What a sight that was to behold when the dawn broke. Goodness knows what the royal family thought as they viewed us from Windsor Castle over breakfast - hundreds of us, marching through their estate. Despite the very wet day and the early morning start, each of us felt a great sense of achievement when we completed the 13k walk. Delighted we raised £24,000 for the hospice. A personal achievement and one that benefitted others too.

I'm giving serious consideration to an early morning write - registration time ... 5.00am! Hemingway time. I've put a date in my diary and if you wish to join me, let me know. I may not be at my most communicative first thing but after the dawn breaks, we can compare notes. I'm sure Hemingway time can accommodate international time zones ... I'll meet you there!