Seven.

Thanks to SnailBeachShepherdess, I am now sitting at the computer and racking my brains to come up with me in seven words. This is not an easy task, as many of you have already found out, but don’t worry, thanks to Frances making a blanket nomination of everyone, you can read this (should you wish to do so) in complete safety and without worry that your name will appear as if by magic at the end! Just take it as read: you are nominated. So, seven words with which to describe me. I could use Honest, Trustworthy, and Reliable, but that would sound too much like my CV (Résumé). Thinking cap on, oh, would you just look at the dust in it!

Procrastination. This is something at which I excel. It is why I've taken so long to do my Seven. If there is any way I can put off until tomorrow the jobs that should have been done yesterday then if anyone can find a way to do it I can. Of course, based on the premise that tomorrow never comes, I can procrastinate as long as I choose. Purple Coo and Facebook also significantly assist the procrastination process.

Shy. Painfully so. It is sometimes difficult to comprehend that I used to be most confident and outgoing. I’ve achieved many accomplished public speaking presentations, so you would not believe how shy I am become. Not while hiding behind the safety of a computer monitor, but in the ‘real world’ I am the one found sitting alone in the corner, hovering at the back, avoiding eye contact, always saying stupid things out of shyness induced embarrassment, that is until you get to know me. I’ve tried, really tried, not to be shy but the words come out all wrong until I relax. Because of this, I’ve often been branded a snob and stand-offish. It means I don’t have very many friends because it is not easy, nor should I expect others, to make the effort to bring me out of myself. The few people who do know me well enough to bring me out of my shell know that I am . . .

Talkative. Once I break through my exceedingly painful shyness, I can talk for Wales. Talking should be an Olympic sport and I would win gold, there would be no competition. I don’t think I need say any more, which belies the truth behind this statement, but those who know me have seen how I can ramble on, and on, and on, and on . . . . .

Emotional. Forget Bambi, I bawled my eyes out all the way through all three Lord of the Rings films! I can pinpoint the exact moment this all started. I was nine years old. It was my birthday treat to be taken to see the film Born Free and the scene where Joy/Virginia returns to the Land Rover after George/Bill has dropped the cubs off at the airport. She is grief stricken, he starts to laugh and slides open the connecting window to the back and out pops the lioness Elsa/Girl. If you’ve seen it, you’ll probably understand. I’ve loved that film and ever since the opening bars of the music see me immediately reduced to a snivelling mess.

Music and poetry especially wreck havoc with my emotions. The sort of silent tears that just spill quitely, effortlessly from the eyes welling up in response, as my very soul is touched with notes or words. They are most powerful tools to rouse emotion, if you allow yourself to open to the secret power therein. You don't want to be within a mile of me when the Welsh National Anthem is played.

It isn’t only the crying at Lassie or Tom and Meg emotion, I am overall a very emotional person. When I experience emotion, whatever it is: happy, sad, laughter, crying, love, anger, fear, it is spontaneous and off the scale. The only emotion I do not allow to encroach into my life is hatred. Hatred is far too powerful and has many undesired repercussions. I really should try harder to eject anger too, but it happens sometimes and when I get cross with someone it is fast, hot and over in a trice. Then I go put the kettle on and make everyone a nice cup of tea, the British panacea to everything.

Loner. I prefer to be alone than in a crowd. I love the company of one or two good friends, but I would far rather be out striding along the coastal countryside and coast path than anywhere else on earth, with only the vast ocean, limitless sky, my thoughts, and wildlife for my companions. Give me a book of good poetry, my recorder to play, a sketchbook and pencils, my camera, and a thermos of tea and I ask for nothing more. Well, maybe keep the rain away until I get home again!

Forgiving. I think unconditional forgiveness (along with love and respect) is one thing there is far too little of in this great big world we share with each other. I might rant for a bit when someone or something upsets or hurts me, but I try to get over it as quickly as I can. Forgiveness, like charity, begins at home, and I am learning to forgive myself while I truly forgive all who upset me, however great the pain caused. Sometimes it is not easy to forgive but thus far in my life there is only one person I am struggling to forgive, a person who told me that she does not care that my dearly loved Daddy is so poorly. This I truly struggle with in finding forgiveness and feel that I have failed myself.

Creative. Well, I like to think so. I am creative in many ways, and I have carefully chosen this word instead of artistic because creative applies to a multitude of things. I am creative in that I draw, paint, and sketch, although I am abysmal at all. I do like oils because you can scrape them off and start again! I love making things, clothes, soft furnishings, handbags, jewellery and quilts, oh, especially quilts. There is something so deeply comforting on a cold winter’s evening, curled into your arm chair, snuggling into a patchwork quilt you made yourself with a mug of steaming hot chocolate in your hand. Post editing my photography and using my photography as a textile inspiration is another way in which I explore creativity. Creativity spills into inventiveness in the kitchen, with baking, cooking, and preserving. No recipe is safe and they are constantly tweaked and rewritten! I love to create passages of text, prose rather than poetry, just letting the words flow from brain to paper, sometimes just a chain of words that sound wonderful together, nothing more, nothing less. However I am never creative with the truth.

So, gentle reader, this, in seven words is me. There are more, but as the task stipulates seven then these are the seven selected.