Mind Ninja

[clairelcmartin]

Right, You Lot: I don't know you or we're already connected so check you haven't been cloned. I apologise to anyone who is genuine but would you make it clearer why we should be friends? #friendrequest #facebook #instagram #spam #scam https://www.instagram.com/p/Cp-2MuOrqjf/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[clairelcmartin]

I posted this 4 years' ago. Happy Mother's Day to my first mother, wherever you are ❤ #adoption #foundling #orphan #poleungkuk #fanling #berwickstreet https://www.instagram.com/p/Cp920arr62r/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[clairelcmartin]

A SOLDIER’S WISH (let me go) The night approaches on hushed feet The wings of hope are now tattered Chain-less mind is spent from weeping It carries woundings of the heart The mind tries to slay the spirit Steals a kiss from the breath of death Swapping worried glances with life I have taken the devil’s bet Let me go He is tricky he is cross as he gambles for your loss Watch the walls watch the floors, the ceilings, and the doors I am crazy, I am wild, I step over a dead child I can’t take it anymore, the eyesores of this war Sharp bullets flying everywhere As bombs light up the evening night And no one seems to give a care We are here, but we’re out of sight My two buddies did die today If not for them, then I’d be dead Now I will live another day And they have gone beyond instead Let me go Copyright Dennis John Ferado #art #painting #drawing #watercolour #chinesepainting #RamblingOn #MindNinja #ChinWag #Cl-airBrush #watercolor #poetry #verse https://www.instagram.com/p/Cp8VJMJL7Go/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[clairelcmartin]

Memories of Mike Facebook can smack you in the face: most of the memories that pop up are dodgy selfies or jokes you posted 5 years’ ago.  Occasionally there is a tear jerker and today reminded me of the passing of Mike Durrant so unexpectedly.  I met him donkey’s years ago at the Young Chelsea Bridge Club.  He was lovely to beginners like me, partnering and encouraging us.  I ran diamonds because it was the only thing left to do and he announced to the room, “Claire’s done a triple squeeze!”  He loved his little quizzes and he challenged me to find a film in which Jenny Agutter did not get her kit off.  Railway Children did not count as she removed her bloomers to stop a train.  It became a running joke yonks later after he had retired to Spain and re-connected on Facebook.  He loved art and created intricate online quizzes which were a joy to attempt.  I introduced him to Barbara Fysh who runs a wonderful Facebook Group for art and music lovers and we looked forward to his witty and intricate posts. He learned to Photoshop so there are strange images of me in famous paintings and movies scenes hanging around the ether for eternity.  Imagine St Peter at the Pearly Gates tut tutting at a cheeky image of himself. Shine on you crazy diamond, Mike.  We’ll remember you forever. #writing #book #booklover #creativewriting #RamblingOn #MindNinja #ChinWag #Cl-airBrush #memories #memoir #100daysofwriting #bridge #youngchelsea https://www.instagram.com/p/CpqPc26rfz4/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[clairelcmartin]

Reflection in a bus stop by Sainsbury's in Crystal Palace. Not what you think 🤔 #car #reflections #RamblingOn #MindNinja #ChinWag #ChinWag #crystalpalace #deception #opticalillusion #illusion https://www.instagram.com/p/Cpp8ON3Ioxj/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[clairelcmartin]

Lockdown Lard I stepped on the scales.  “Oh my giddy aunt.”  Well, that is the publishable version of what I shrieked, “I’ve put on 13 kilos!”  That’s 2 stone in old money.  Americans, 28lbs more me.  I had will powered myself to 8st, 50kg at Slimming World and bang, Covid.  I had blown it again.  Mrs Yo-Yo was back.  During Lockdown, we were not allowed out except for essential food shopping nearby and a brief, socially distanced, daily walk.  No gym, no Slimming World meetings (I used to jog to both) and no personal trainer.  Joe Wicks on TV is not as effective when you sit watching him while eating breakfast on the sofa.  Take-aways from our favourite restaurants were our way of supporting them; that was our excuse.  Collecting the meal from the door mat did not burn the same number of calories as walking to Crystal Palace from West Norwood; a hilly 40 minutes.  Not power training, granted, but I did dance on music nights. I cannot believe that I am writing these words but I actually missed West Norwood Leisure Centre.  The support, the camaraderie, gassing about the menopause; it is not the same in the porch with a couple of milk bottles and an industrial sized lazzie band being laughed at by the refuse collectors.  9st was a red line but I only just managed to keep it from 10st.  Reducing was a whole new ball game.  What I have discovered about myself is that I am not disciplined to enough to do the whole weight reduction thingy on my own. Age came to the rescue.  Significant birthdays chime in the UK National Health Service clockwork, like a poo kit on your 60th.  Not even Covid silences those dinky NHS alarms and a mysterious text message appeared in my inbox.  You get to a certain point in your life when you are introduced to the concept of comorbidities.  The NHS risk algorithm stirs and, lo and behold, you are invited to a Diabetes Prevention Program faster than you can say “Blood sugar.”  Here we go again. #writing #book #booklover #creativewriting #RamblingOn #MindNinja #ChinWag #Cl-airBrush #memories #memoir #100daysofwriting #slimmingworld #health #fitness #gym #weighttraining #workout #diet https://www.instagram.com/p/CpkS_ZlIJc1/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[clairelcmartin]

Testing Times I’ve experienced some weird tests at King’s College Hospital but today’s was very strange. Last time I was in the Ruskin Wing, 21 years ago, I was legs akimbo giving birth with lots of trainees traipsing past, having a good butcher’s and declaring, “Dilating nicely.”  Today, I was in Neurophysiology, electrodes attached to my head and eyes, staring at a black and white chessboard focused on a single red square, holding breath and not allowed to blink while lights flashed.  There is a fair old set-up for such torturous exercises and while Naz was sticking gold probes in my eyes (I kid you not) Lydia was taking down the medical history.  When confronted with such questions, we Hong Kong adoptees usually ask, “Do you want the long version or the short one?”  Followers of my ramblings know that I have been whinging about my eyes recently: glaucoma, cataracts, the whole ageing nine yards.  It creeps up, it is ignored, I put up with odd socks and clashing colours choices to challenge even Vivienne Westwood, until the one that takes the proverbial biscuit.  Wait for it: I hailed an ambulance thinking it was a bus.  Lydia choked on her coffee. “Did it stop?” “Thankfully not.” “Wonder what the driver thought…” “That there was a bus behind?”  Please God. Allegedly our eyes did not develop properly in the orphanages.  Long Lost Family, Series 10, Episode 4: the long version…   #writing #book #booklover #creativewriting #RamblingOn #MindNinja #ChinWag #Cl-airBrush #memories #memoir #100daysofwriting #kingscollegehospital #neurophysiology https://www.instagram.com/p/Cpf4qMsL5Sx/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[clairelcmartin]

Durham City Claire queued for the phone in the market square.  The Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament was loud and proud in 1979 and the University’s CND Society had set up a mock shelter to protest the pointlessness, Claire assumed.  The tent was tatty but she would have been happy for the warmth inside.  She had grown up near Liverpool but Durham was colder.  A stranger approached. “Wor leek a leet wor pit, ya garn?” “Um sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.” “Aw, bliddy foreigner.” Claire only twigged after he had departed. “Sorry, I don’t smoke,” she announced to his back. She accepted that it was not Geordie despite the dictionary definition.  Like it was not Scouse on the Wirral even if it sounded the same – you are merely from “Over the Water.”  Claire had been chatting to the cleaner at St Mary’s College for three weeks before she realised that bairns were her children. Finally Claire hauled open the heavy door of the phone box, Pressed Button A, stuffed in coins, Pressed Button B. “Dad?” “Darling!  How lovely.  How is it?” “It’s great.  Loads going on.  There’s a demo.  Peace Action Durham.” “How interesting.  Tools.” “Tools?” “Pre-Saxon Durham?” “Honestly, Dad.” #writing #book #booklover #creativewriting #RamblingOn #MindNinja #ChinWag #Cl-airBrush #memories #memoir #100daysofwriting #durham https://www.instagram.com/p/CpdHI--rNk3/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[clairelcmartin]

Fighting Fit Björn positioned Claire in front of him and retreated back into the goal with clear instructions not to let the ball past her.  He’d been “Dad” in a number of Luethi-Peterson international summer camps and this tubby Chinese girl had been his biggest challenge on the sports field.  It was his own darned fault, he realised, when she caught the ball.  He’d failed to explain the rules of soccer. “You said to stop it.  How do you stop it?” “With your chest.” “My chest?”  Clearly Björn did not fully appreciate the tenderness of pre-teen boob development.  American Football had been equally mysterious; Claire had been tackled unceremoniously when she was miles from the ball.  She’d been assured it was the rules and not just Ivo bullying her again. It was with great anticipation, therefore, that Björn gathered his mates to watch the Judo match.  He admired Claire’s spunk but didn’t hold out much hope.  He was horrified at the sight of Ivo stepping onto the mat opposite to her.  Taller.  Stockier.  Two things Björn had not hitherto realised: her chance to get even and that Judo was invented by Claire-shaped people.  Ivo charged.  Claire squatted.  Newtonian laws of motion were dramatically demonstrated as the slightest collision turbo launched Ivo straight over Claire’s head. “Det är min tjej,” shrieked Björn.  That’s my girl.   #writing #book #booklover #creativewriting #RamblingOn #MindNinja #ChinWag #Cl-airBrush #memories #memoir #100daysofwriting #thequeensschoolchester #lpc #luethipetersoncamps #sport #games #football #soccer #americanfootball #judo #martialarts #fitness #gym #weighttraining #workout https://www.instagram.com/p/CpaZbZGosPB/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[clairelcmartin]

Lost in Translation “Qing ni gao si je wei xiao jie shen me shi hou xia che.”  Claire held up the sign in front of the bus driver.  It was beautifully written in Traditional Chinese characters.  He nodded.  Please tell this girl when to get off.  Claire had been taught modern Mandarin, Simplified characters, by English lecturers at Durham University.  There were eight students in the 1979 intake and six of them were in Beijing University for their year out.  Claire was in Taiwan because she was a carrier of Hepatitis B and was not allowed in China.  There had also been a requirement to learn from standard Communist text books but the phrase “Mao Zidong wan sui” Mao Tse Tung for 10,000 Years was of absolutely no use navigating Taipei City.  In 1949, after Mao’s victory, Chiang Kai-shek and the Nationalist Kuo Min Tang Party fled to Taiwan bringing their old, complex but beautiful script with them.  Here is the horse馬 which is马 in Simplified.  Takes longer but you can see what it is. Months later, Chen Mama, Claire’s landlady beamed a greeting. “Wo xue le Yingwen.”  I can speak English.  “F**k.” “You can’t say that.  It’s rude.” “But Lisa says it all the time!  I looked it up.  It means to make love.”  Claire’s room-mate was American. “I know but it’s a bad swear word.  Like Hun Dan.” Chen Mama gasped.  Turtle’s Egg.  Mother F**ker. https://www.instagram.com/p/CpUgLFYreSJ/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[clairelcmartin]

Lost in Translation “Qing ni gao si je wei xiao jie shen me shi hou xia che.”  Claire held up the sign in front of the bus driver.  It was beautifully written in Traditional Chinese characters.  He nodded.  Please tell this girl when to get off.  Claire had been taught modern Mandarin, Simplified characters, by English lecturers at Durham University.  There were eight students in the 1979 intake and six of them were in Beijing University for their year out.  Claire was in Taiwan because she was a carrier of Hepatitis B and was not allowed in China.  There had also been a requirement to learn from standard Communist text books but the phrase “Mao Zidong wan sui” Mao Tse Tung for 10,000 Years was of absolutely no use navigating Taipei City.  In 1949, after Mao’s victory, Chiang Kai-shek and the Nationalist Kuo Min Tang Party fled to Taiwan bringing their old, complex but beautiful script with them.  Here is the horse馬 which is马 in Simplified.  Takes longer but you can see what it is. Months later, Chen Mama, Claire’s landlady beamed a greeting. “Wo xue le Yingwen.”  I can speak English.  “Fuck.” “You can’t say that.  It’s rude.” “But Lisa says it all the time!  I looked it up.  It means to make love.”  Claire’s room-mate was American. “I know but it’s a bad swear word.  Like Hun Dan.” Chen Mama gasped.  Turtle’s Egg.  Mother Fucker. #writing #book #booklover #creativewriting #RamblingOn #MindNinja #ChinWag #Cl-airBrush #memories #memoir #100daysofwriting #durhamuniversity https://www.instagram.com/p/CpSLkCULkQb/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[clairelcmartin]

Spring has sprung? #daffodils #spring #flowers #march https://www.instagram.com/p/CpP_lCuoG5j/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[clairelcmartin]

Durham University friends in Camberwell @ajmsnaps #friends #durham #catchup #camberwell https://www.instagram.com/p/CpP_JZFohvh/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[clairelcmartin]

Knit Wit “Whatever is Dad up to?”  Claire could see Bo across Brown’s of Chester shop floor furtively tucking up his old knitted gansie and hooking it under his chin.  An assistant measured his waist.  He saw Claire and blushed. “Let me help,” Claire went over and eased the tatty jumper over his head.  They left with a smart pair of flannel kecks. “I was hiding the holes,” explained Bo at home. “From me or the assistant?” Bo smiled.  “It’s started to unravel and I feared you’d persuade me to throw it out.” He’d steeled himself to chuck out Doris’ clothes after she died but kept everything she’d ever knitted. “It’s moths,” Claire inspected the gansie, “We need those smelly things Gran’s got in her wardrobe.” The Queen’s School was still supportive, checking Claire was eating properly.  Her mother had taught Claire how to darn socks but the Domestic Science teacher, Shirley Hayes, helped to restore Bo’s old jumper to something wearable in public again. “Stop fidgeting, Dad,” Claire tried to untangle the tape measure weeks after.  “How long do you want it?” Bo faithfully wore the resulting monstrosity for years afterwards.  In public, too.   #writing #book #booklover #creativewriting #RamblingOn #MindNinja #ChinWag #Cl-airBrush #memories #memoir #100daysofwriting #thequeensschoolchester #knitting #holes #wool #jumper #gansie https://www.instagram.com/p/CpN8I2RLq6-/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[clairelcmartin]

Games With all the coordination of a new-born giraffe, Claire was not good at games, the PE kind, at The Queen’s School.  A particular challenge was lacrosse.  Imagine, if you will, a net on a stick that is so shallow the ball falls out.  You keep it in with a manic centrifugal action swinging the darned thing from side to side whilst running.  You launch the ball at a team mate, who is also running, and hope she catches the missile and progresses towards a minute goal at the other end of the field inhabited by the largest pupil you can find padded up and helmeted like an American footballer. The competitive types weren’t going to risk Claire catching during a House match so they encased her in the Hockey Goal Keeper’s kit and prayed the Defence kept the ball away from her.  The padding was unyielding and too large so Claire had the appearance of a box with hands and feet topped with a helmet.  Such a sight was so breathtakingly hilarious that the opposing strikers were gripped with hysterics and missed.  The difficulty arose when trying to get re-started with the lacrosse equivalent of a goal kick.  Claire couldn’t bend in all the gear.  She lowered herself to an undignified squat and attempted to scoop the ball off the ground.  Match time drained as she rolled it aimlessly until, perchance, the ball hit a lump in the grass and deigned to bounce back into the stick.  Claire was then obliged to launch it forward, a thwarted attempt rendering it once again at her feet.  An impatient defender would nab it expertly and screech off into the distance.  It’s the taking part, right??? #writing #book #booklover #creativewriting #RamblingOn #MindNinja #ChinWag #Cl-airBrush #memories #memoir #100daysofwriting #thequeensschoolchester #lacrosse #games #pe #sport https://www.instagram.com/p/CpK5k9dIkRp/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[clairelcmartin]

Plansters The Literary Community live writing class covered organic writing, Pansters (by the seat of) like me and Planning (Plot).  Before joining up, I had thought there was only one way: A to Z via B and C, and it held me back for yonks.  Because I don’t know my origins, having been abandoned and spending my first two years in Hong Kong orphanages, I felt I couldn’t get out of the blocks.  Many people enquiring about my past have encouraged me to get the story down; the first overseas adoptions to the UK in the 50s and 60s and our ground breaking, if somewhat eccentric, experiences.  I don’t do straight lines; personality-wise, I’m all over the place, pinging off in all directions.  It was a revelation that I’m not alone and some very successful writers are happy to fly this way.  Louise Doughty of Apple Tree Yard and Crossfire fame creates from a single striking scene and develops a story around it.  In a previous class, she suggested that Chapter One didn’t have to begin at the beginning; I could start in the middle.  So I did and I haven’t stopped since.  I now have a stream of consciousness anecdotes bubbling forth daily which I’m using to commit to the #100 Days of Writing Challenge that I have often started but never once completed.  I’m practising in the same way I taught myself watercolour painting during Lockdown – posting the results and, hopefully, the progress on social media. At some point I’ll get it in some kind of order, chronologically, perhaps, or not.  Imagine applying PRINCE2 principles?  Project Management.  Gordon Bennett, that will make me a Planster. #writing #book #booklover #creativewriting #RamblingOn #MindNinja #ChinWag #Cl-airBrush #memories #memoir #100daysofwriting #journaling #plan #plot #prince2 #projectmanagement #project https://www.instagram.com/p/CpIPbamIy9k/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[clairelcmartin]

Writing in My Sleep One of the new habits I have committed to is waking earlier and writing first thing.  The Mind is up for it, the Body isn’t. “C’mon, it’s great, it’s sunny, well, -ish, there’s daylight, you’ll get loads done, you can show off to your new literary friends.” “Shut up.” “A little goes a long way.  Please.  You’re up, you may as well write.” “No, YOU’RE up.  Now where was I?  I’d just sneaked through my neighbour’s house but the garden exits were locked, but when my neighbour opened the gate, lots of strangers walked in.  Then I was just about to interview someone but I’d lost the job spec and he was standing at the door.” “What are you on about?  You’re supposed to be writing about calories.” “And one of my colleagues just found the candidate’s CV and now I’m out in the middle of the ocean drifting on something, perched on something wooden and there’s just sea all around and nothing else.” “Wake up!” “What’s for breakfast?” “No breakfast till you write!” “People write bestsellers inspired by dreams.” “I don’t care.  Write ANYTHING!!!”   #writing #book #booklover #creativewriting #RamblingOn #MindNinja #ChinWag #Cl-airBrush #memories #memoir #100daysofwriting #dream https://www.instagram.com/p/CpFY4x6rnfj/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=