Some bloggers have hips and ankles that harbor arthritis, hamstrings that tighten up, lymph systems that become sluggish.
This blogger woke up on October 26th with all those things conspiring to make him moan, “Well, that’s a pain!”
Three therapy sessions later, I’m walking short distances with some comfort, unloading the dishwasher without sitting down between trips to the cupboards, stretching my hamstrings when I get up in the morning.
All this is only part of the reason, however, why there was no blog last Wednesday and why today’s blog is personal.
I’ve been thinking about and writing about R. S. Thomas, just not in blog form.
The writing is for two projects: an essay and a series of talks.
I’ve agreed to write about 3,000 words for a book of remembrances of Thomas. My title is “Remembering R. S. Thomas: A But . . . But . . . Butting . . . Poet-Priest.”
Next May, I’m scheduled to give seven talks about Thomas’s poetry at Gladstone’s Library in Hawarden, Wales. So I’ve been writing synopses to keep in front of me as I reread Thomas’s poems. My goal is to have poems to accompany each talk that are not the poems that would immediately pop into my head. Some of my topics will be thoughts that I’ve often thought about R.S.’s poetry, some will be new ones – all of them illustrated by poems that are not now glued to my gray cells.
Thomas would call what I’ve just said “nail-parings.”