Have just spent twenty-five infuriating minutes trying to restore my photo to this blogspot after its mysterious disappearance the other week. Where did it go? And why? Is someone trying to tell me something? I found it - in the end. But not before all manner of expletives had turned the air blue and the PC had almost ended up crashing through the window!
It is Wednesday 25 February 2009 - it is just ten months until Christmas day! Ok. Ok. I promise I won't mention Christmas again until much nearer the time. It is now 07.47 and I am in the office at the day job, having come in early specifically to do a new blog. It is a grey, overcast morning. The sky is like moulten lead, the air is still and the 10,000 seagulls that seem to have adopted the airspace immediately above us recently, are nowhere to be seen. In fact it seems a little too quiet. The weather itself has improved marginally. After some drizzle yesterday, today it is at least warmer and dryer.
This is of great relief to my left knee which is very unwell and rather desperately in need of an operation to put it right. It really cannot tolerate the cold at the moment, but even when it isn't cold, that knee just can't tolerate anything. If I sit still for too long, it grizzles and complains. If I try to run anywhere it moans and groans. If it decides it has walked enough it sings grand-opera! A physiotherapist friend of mine spotted me hobbling about on it a few weeks back and promptly wrote a referral to my doctor, who contacted the hospital, who organised an appointment, that was overseen by a consultant, who concluded it is arthritis. I am scheduled for an op ( my first one since my appendix almost burst twenty odd years ago) which will involve the bones beeing scraped and the knee itself being flushed out. It sounds horrific but if it means I will eventually be able to walk without being in agony, and sleep through the night safe in the knowledge that I won't wake up in desperate pain at one in the morning, then I am prepared to put myself through it. Anyway it will mean two weeks off work so who am I to complain? That, to me, means two weeks in which to Write, Write, Write.
Things have really started to move of late. I have signed up with two publishing groups who employ so-called Ghost writers and within days, one of them sent me a brief for a series of boy's adventure stories. The commission will mean five books, each between ten and twelve thousand words, targeted at 7 to 10 year olds. I have been very busy drafting the one sample chapter they need by the end of next week to put me in the running. So far, so good. I am loving it. I work so much better when I have a schedule (or a deadline) to work to. And even if I don't get it, at least the company took me seriously enough to give me the option to have a go! Who knows where it could lead to?
The new Yucketypoo book, I have been told, is due to be published 'very soon' similtaneously in the UK and the USA; furthermore, the first book is about to be re-branded so its appearance looks more in line with the second book and, eventually, with the third and final book. The third and final book needs updating and I am arranging a meeting with a representative of a company that deals with envirornment friendly fuels to help it on its way. Once the entire series is complete, maybe those large chain retailers that expressed an interest in stocking it as one unit will pick up the option and give it their best shot.
On top of all that - I am very pleased to announce - the poet is back! I am looking at a number of new openings that could lead to regular Work so fingers crossed.
I tell you, this writing life! When it is going badly, it feels like the end of the world. But when it is going well - the sky's the limit.
Gotta dash - it is 08.23 and the day job commences in seven minutes ...................
Tuesday 24 February 2009
Wednesday 4 February 2009
'S NO JOKE.......
Had Youngest Stepdaughter's two last weekend. Eldest Granddaughter and Youngest Grandson ran Hubby and I ragged the whole time. E.G has become a proper little madam with the most infectious giggle and sense of humour. She has this way of looking at you as if you were the dumbest kid on Earth which is somewhat unnerving in a three year old. Y.G is into everything. He managed six steps all by himself before plopping onto his bottom and giving himself a round of applause. It was a different thing entirely when he borrowed E.G's dolls pram. With something to hang onto he zoomed across the floor, not stopping until the pram collided with the French windows. I had this vision that if there were no obstacles in the way he would be quite capable of walking in a straight line forever. He has also learned how to be very defiant. He squirted his milk all over the carpet so I said firmly "NO!". He looked up at me, gave me a gummy grin - and promptly squirted milk all over the carpet again. "NO!" I reitereated. When the milk hit the carpet for the fourth time I confiscated the bottle and then had to endure the screaming ab-dabs for the next five minutes.
On the Sunday morning, I thought it would be an adventure to walk them over to the paper shop. Y.G was in the buggy and well bundled up and E.G refused to wear her scarf, hat and mittens. With every step we took it got colder and colder - the temperature was just plummeting every second. By the time we were on our way back some ten minutes later both youngsters were crying from the cold. I didn't blame them. I was almost crying myself. I told E.G, "Let's put your scarf and hat on at least!" But she flatly refused. "Well then don't cry because you're cold!" I said rather unsympathetically. They were okay once they'd thawed out back in the warm embrace of the house but I did mentally question the logic of a three year old who cries when she's cold but simply won't wear a scarf and hat!
Mummy picked them up at lunch time. As we waved them off the arctic winds forced a hasty retreat from the doorstep and within a couple of hours it was snowing. And snowing. And snowing. When I got up for work on Monday there was almost a foot of the white stuff draping everything. Hubby and I checked the weather updates on TV. Warnings were rife not to go out unless you absolutely had to. All bus services had been suspended but no-one mentioned the tramlink and finally at 7.15, Hubby began to escort me to the tram stop. Half way there, with snow up to my knees and a blizzard swirling around us, we met a group of people who told us the tamlink service has also been suspended so we turned round and went home again. A series of text messages and mobile phone calls finally confirmed that no-one was going to get to work that day so we spent it indoors watching TV and seeing the snowdrifts grow and grow and grow. The last time I recall snow like that is when I was living in a flat in Mitcham some twenty years ago!
Tuesday dawned frozen and cold. I checked and found that there were some buses so left home at 7.10 arriving at the office two hours later after some very long detours. It was complete mayhem. Even the staff at West Croydon Bus Station didn't know what buses were running and which ones weren't. Around half a dozen staff managed to get in that day and most finished by three to make sure no-one got stranded and, even though things were more or less back to normal yesterday there are still great huge clods of frozen snow everywhere and walking along our quiet little cul-de-sac this morning was a complete nightmare! I live in terror of having a prat-fall and making a complete idiot of myself.
Personally I think the snow brings out the kid in most of us. There is still something of a thrill in seeing your own footprints in virgin snow and there are plenty of smiley snow-people beaming at passers-by from front gardens. And of course I just had to take some photographs of our snow-covered garden and neighbourhood. It looks so pretty and it has this knack of bringing out the community spirit in everyone, with neighbours all waving at one another where, more often than not, we are all generally too busy getting on with our lives to even notice each other. But I am beginning to tire of it now, I must admit, and have huge hankerings for the first pink blossoms of spring and being able to walk the streets without the fear of breaking an ankle at every step!
On the Sunday morning, I thought it would be an adventure to walk them over to the paper shop. Y.G was in the buggy and well bundled up and E.G refused to wear her scarf, hat and mittens. With every step we took it got colder and colder - the temperature was just plummeting every second. By the time we were on our way back some ten minutes later both youngsters were crying from the cold. I didn't blame them. I was almost crying myself. I told E.G, "Let's put your scarf and hat on at least!" But she flatly refused. "Well then don't cry because you're cold!" I said rather unsympathetically. They were okay once they'd thawed out back in the warm embrace of the house but I did mentally question the logic of a three year old who cries when she's cold but simply won't wear a scarf and hat!
Mummy picked them up at lunch time. As we waved them off the arctic winds forced a hasty retreat from the doorstep and within a couple of hours it was snowing. And snowing. And snowing. When I got up for work on Monday there was almost a foot of the white stuff draping everything. Hubby and I checked the weather updates on TV. Warnings were rife not to go out unless you absolutely had to. All bus services had been suspended but no-one mentioned the tramlink and finally at 7.15, Hubby began to escort me to the tram stop. Half way there, with snow up to my knees and a blizzard swirling around us, we met a group of people who told us the tamlink service has also been suspended so we turned round and went home again. A series of text messages and mobile phone calls finally confirmed that no-one was going to get to work that day so we spent it indoors watching TV and seeing the snowdrifts grow and grow and grow. The last time I recall snow like that is when I was living in a flat in Mitcham some twenty years ago!
Tuesday dawned frozen and cold. I checked and found that there were some buses so left home at 7.10 arriving at the office two hours later after some very long detours. It was complete mayhem. Even the staff at West Croydon Bus Station didn't know what buses were running and which ones weren't. Around half a dozen staff managed to get in that day and most finished by three to make sure no-one got stranded and, even though things were more or less back to normal yesterday there are still great huge clods of frozen snow everywhere and walking along our quiet little cul-de-sac this morning was a complete nightmare! I live in terror of having a prat-fall and making a complete idiot of myself.
Personally I think the snow brings out the kid in most of us. There is still something of a thrill in seeing your own footprints in virgin snow and there are plenty of smiley snow-people beaming at passers-by from front gardens. And of course I just had to take some photographs of our snow-covered garden and neighbourhood. It looks so pretty and it has this knack of bringing out the community spirit in everyone, with neighbours all waving at one another where, more often than not, we are all generally too busy getting on with our lives to even notice each other. But I am beginning to tire of it now, I must admit, and have huge hankerings for the first pink blossoms of spring and being able to walk the streets without the fear of breaking an ankle at every step!
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