FIFTY & NOT OUT

YUCK ROCKS AMERICA .......

2009-11-12T13:01:00.000-08:00

I was chuffed to get a text message from Sarah the Publisher the other day advising me to check out a review of Yuck 1 written by someone in AMERICA! How exciting is that? Take a look for yourself - the link is http://www.literacylaunchpad.blogspot.com/ and it was written as part of a scheme to get 100 bloggers to review 100 'great books' printed in an environmentally friendly way! It makes me blush to relate that the reviewer's kind words and complete understanding of the whole concept of Yucketypoo damn near brought a tear to my unpracticed eye! It reminded me just how proud I am of it! I so want it to become read worldwide because its message does affect the entire world! In fact I can't believe it hasn't reached more people yet because it is just so completely unique! There is nothing else like it on the market - even its sequels are totally different - but, as hard as I have tried to get someone of note to comment on it, it still remains something of a non-entity. Ah well - good things come to those who wait, I guess. And getting a review from America is but definitely a step in the right direction.

You know it is astonishing just how much better I have felt about myself as a writer since I became unemployed. It is the one thing that stabilises my mental and emotional well-being; when I have got a pen in my hand I become somebody else, somebody with passion and meaning. So it will come as no surprise to anyone that I have gingerly taken up the pen (and the laptop) again in between signing on, filling out endless streams of application forms and attending interviews. I have started to make notes and squiggles again and two days ago made a significant start on draft one of my local interest book. I also found out, quite by chance the other day, that I'd had a poem published in The Daily Mail! Plus I have two others appearing in anthologies over the next couple of months, all of which bodes rather well for the future, methinks!

Watch this space. The Writer ain't beat yet ......

OUT ON A LIMB - NOT!!!

2009-11-08T13:10:00.000-08:00

I am so, so, so sorry to have abandoned you but you just will not believe what is going on in my life now! Talk about Eastenders - I tell you, Albert Square has nothing on me! After months of harping on about how much I loathe, detest, despise and hate my job, guess what? I've been made redundant! Really! I left the Friday before last. It all happened in the space of four weeks - from the first email being sent round to everyone to me walking out of the door for the last time. What a relief! I'm serious! Now don't think for a second I am being flippant here. I know how serious redundancy can be (let's face it, I have been through it before) and, despite the fact here are loads of jobs out there, here I am, a week or so later still job-hunting, still filling out application forms and checking jobsites every day - and yet still so pleased that I am no longer stuck in that bloody office!

Within the first week I had secured two second-stage interviews but neither amounted to anything and since then - zilch, zip, nil, zero. It isn't through lack of trying either. I have kept strict records and the number of jobs applied for so far totals 26! I am so sick of application forms that they are coming back to haunt my sleep night after night - the same questions, the same layout, the same everything. Only the company names are different, everything else is identical. Weren't CVs supposed to put an end to all this? I am not joking, when I complained of writer's cramp one day last week as I filled out a form I had picked up ten minutes before, Hubby snorted with laughter and said "Don't tell me you've got writer's cramp; you're a writer! How can you have it already, you are not even half way through that form!"

Now don't think he hasn't been Loving Supportive Hubby personified because he has. He has lifted my spirits every time I have started to flag and, if anything, seems horrified that I haven't been snapped up by somebody already. I feel kind of sad sometimes though because I know that if we could afford it, he would tell me to stop wasting my time looking for jobs and start using my time to knock up the odd bestseller or two. It is the one thing he hasn't been able to give me in all the years we have been together and I know that really bothers him.

I have decided to be more constructive with my writing during this time, though. After all there are only so many jobs, so many application forms and so many phonecalls I can actively pursue at any one time and the fact I am not stuck in front of a computer for eight hours during the day means that getting back to the laptop in the evenings has become enjoyable again. Hence my first blog in - ooo - weeks!

Watch this space; I have a feeling I will be back sooner rather than later. And keep your fingers crossed for me that some wicked commission comes my way which will pay me a packet and render the jobhunt - well, redundant ...

LONG TIME NO SEE...

2009-09-30T23:24:00.000-07:00

The most horrendous thing happened to me last night! Knowing we had guests to dinner, I stopped off on the way home from the Day Job to get a few extra things, decided to pay with my Maestro card and was knocked for six when the card was refused twice. Fortunately I had enough cash on me to cover it but I was so embarrassed. I couldn't understand it. I only got paid two days before. Then I remembered - the mortgage and a number of direct debits had all gone out together and this was one of the few months of the year that the input date of my salary differentiated to Hubby's.

Normally they do coincide quite comfortably but this month - not a chance. I just wanted the floor to open up and swallow me as the long queue of people at the checkout behind me, fidgeted and tutted as I rummaged around in my bag and purse for any loose change I could lay my hand to. That the majority of the £12.00 plus was eventually scraped together out of fifty and twenty pence pieces did not help. I couldn't get out of there quick enough. To make it worse, I could not barge through my front door and tell Hubby how perfectly awful the experience had been because there were our two guests , sitting comfortably, nodding a greeting. They smiled sweetly as I rattled on about how sorry I was to be late to our own dinner party but there had been long queues ... the bus was late ... the bag almost split ... the till had broken down. Even Hubby gave me a funny look that intimated I was babbling incoherently, so please just stop, you're here now, let's get on with the evening.

Do you know, when I read The Secret Dreamworld of a Shopaholic by Sophie Kinsella the first time, I almost wet myself laughing when protagonist Becky Bloomwood found herself stranded at a fashionable department store with baskets full of goods she could not pay for because all her cards had maxed out! But it ain't that funny when it happens to you and I hope it never happens again. I would sooner go one on one with the hounds of hell than watch my card get refused in front of a shop full of people again! Thank goodness Hubby's pay goes in tomorrow!

Despite everything the dinner party went off well. SpagBol is always a success, don't you find? Our two guests, who are Polish, cleared their plates and beamed their appreciation as we downed our second glass of Polish white wine (semi-sweet, quite fruity, very palatible) and then attacked the Vienetta with great gusto. Afterwards, we talked animatedly about their forthcoming wedding in Krakow and they looked at our wedding photographs. They asked about my writing and bought a copy of my book (which they insisted I sign) and then left. Fotunately, soon after getting home earlier, I'd had a chance to run upstairs, freshen up and change, during which time I scrawled a brief note to Hubby to explain what had happened. He went off to work shortly before our guests departed and muttered as he kissed me goodbye at the front door, "I got your note, don't panic, we'll meet for coffee in the morning."

Once everyone had gone and the clearing up was finished, I sank onto the sofa with a bar of strong dark chocolate and watched some 'B' movie about a swarm of killer ants invading a passenger plane. Finally sank into bed around 11.30. I don't know - nothing is ever easy, is it? And really where can one go when one hits rock bottom? The answer? Forward, forward, forward. It can only get better (and surely can't get any worse) .....

ALL QUIET IN BLOGLAND

2009-08-06T01:14:00.001-07:00

Out of the fifty copies of Yuck I ordered in advance for the book signing at St Michael and All Angels Church last month, I have sold 34! I am so chuffed! They seem to do well at Sales of Work. People like the fact they can stand and talk to a writer and that the books are signed. I know it is a hell of a long way till I reach the midnight-signings of J K Rowling proportions but do you know what? I am pleased anyway. And the second book comes out soon which will be terrific; especially since it is launched in the US on the same day - plus the second edition of the first one is being launched at the same time. Things are looking quite good for Yucketypoo, on the whole. I start to feel more like an author and less like a wannabe.

My next project is the local interest book I have been banging on about for months. I have gathered virtually all the reseach and have set myself a deadline of 1st October in which to compile it. Then I will start to write the first draft. This is exciting because if there is one thing I have always wanted to do, it is write a local interest book! Is that sad or is that a sense of loyalty to my locality? I like to think the latter. Croydon is an amazing place, really. It has its darker side as do most big towns, but it is very colourful, historic and cultural on the whole and I think it gets rather a bad press. When the book is published next year, we'll have a big launch, then more people can see what I mean.

Have noticed a very quiet period on the blogging front of late. Are they going out of fashion? Has Twitter put paid to them already? I must admit I tend to read them but only occasionally comment, so hopefully people do the same with mine. If you read it and think it is lacking something please tell me. I am open to suggestions on making it more reader-friendly. Do you want more humorous anecdotes? More info about writing? More about what is going on in the world? Just let me know and I will spice things up a bit.

Enjoy your day. The weather is gorgeous here!

SATURDAY'S THE DAY ...

2009-07-09T07:06:00.000-07:00

Just a quick reminder that I am signing copies of my books at the Summer Fair at St Michael & All Angels Church, in Poplar Walk, West Croydon this Saturday - 11 July - between 10 a/m and 2 p/m. You won't be able to miss me - my table will have YUCKETYPOO bunting all over it - and I will standing there in my Birthday Tops and Jeans (from Hubby), smiling brightly with my posh fountain pen at the ready.

I hope the weather is kind to us that day and I hope to meet lots of people, so fingers crossed. And - very important - 10% of every copy of Yucketypoo sold goes to CLIC-sargent, the children's cancer charity. Please try to come along - it would be great to see you.

Full report next week - promise!

ANY DREAM WILL DO

2009-07-01T23:54:00.000-07:00

Met Hubby for coffee first thing this morning - we still try to do this at least once a week despite being short of cash. I like getting up at 5 a/m. In fact I promised myself today I would try to do this more often and use the hour to write. Promising myself and keeping that promise are two different things though! It is just such a nice time of day - no people around, hardly any traffic - just me and the birds. Love it! Anyway - I digress. Back to the Coffee Shop at East Croydon. Once we had sat down with our Extra Hot Latte (Hubby) and Black Americano (yours truly), we somehow got onto the subject of the lottery. We seem to do that a lot lately. I suppose it is because we don't actually have a lot of spare cash (does anyone these days?), so we just sit talking about a Lottery win as if it was already ours.

Hubby is renown for his kind and generous nature and this morning I was content, once he got in full flow, to just sit and listen to him map out our future as Well Off People. "You can give up work right away," he tells me, "to concentrate on your writing. I expect we'll have a bit of a rush - maybe splash out on a weekend in London to get some new clothes and book some shows up. Once things start getting back to normal and the novelty wears off a bit, this is what I think we should do ..." True to form, he then lists out the next steps which are:

a/ Make sure the mums and dads are ok. By this he means buying them new houses and taking away the strain of paying bills with nothing but their pensions.

b/ Make sure the kids are ok. This equates to buying Youngest Stepdaughter a new car and making sure she no longer struggles to pay the bills and can maybe become the full time mum she'd like to be. Eldest Stepdaughter doesn't seem to want for much so a cash gift seems most fitting.

c/ Make sure siblings are ok - in other words, give them all a little windfall (nothing spectacular, we don't want anyone to know how much we have actually won) - just enough to clear any debts, fund a decent holiday and maybe get Bro over from Denmark for a while,

d/ Make sure the grandchildren are ok - by setting up trust funds for them which they come into at the age of 21. This means Eldest Grand daughter - almost 4, Youngest Grandson - now one and a half, and Youngest Grand daughter (11m) will particularly benefit. May not be so good for Eldest Grandson (almost 14) who will only have seven years of interest to build up rather than 17 or 18 - but then (Hubby justifies), we have already spent a lot more on him because for the first 10 years of his life he was the only Grandchild and therefore thoroughly indulged by everyone, so it kind of balances out.

Finally, he tells me, whatever we are left with we will ensure we spend - and invest - it wisely so that our futures are secure. "I will go Part Time, say three days a week," he says, "so that you are free to Write (because if I am home all day every day, you will never get anything done as I will always be suggesting days out or weekends away) - and you will then still have plenty of time to concentrate."

This is the jist of it. Of course, our plans vary depending on how much we win. If he is feeling particularly optomistic, and we are fortunate enough to win the Big One (£26m plus) - then the odd million pound house, summer home and collection of Jags, Rolls Royces and state of the art laptops and blackberrys come into it in addition to everything above. Plus generous donations to the Lifeboat fund, Great Ormond Street Hospital and to A Child We Hear About that needs a new kidney or prosthetic limb (only this one, it goes without saying, would be made anonymously). And if it's a tenner - well - that'll pay for some groceries (or the next early morning coffee) - so who's complaining?

Personally I love listening to him when he talks like this because he makes it sound so real. He has clearly given the various options a great deal of thought and he glows with satisfaction when he realises how many people we could help should Our Moment ever come. Furthermore he does not then become morose or cynical when out numbers don't come up. He just snaps his fingers, sparkles a smile and says "It must be our turn next time then ..."

No wonder I love him so much!

WELCOME TO SUMMER

2009-06-18T00:28:00.000-07:00

It is just the most gorgeous morning! All blue skies, feathery clouds and a feeling of promise. I cannot believe it is the longest day on Sunday! I seriously cannot keep the pace! I have been making a good recovery from the operation, by the way. The stitches came out on Tuesday last week and the knee is getting better by the day with only a trace of stiffness if I sit still for too long. I have only just realised how badly affected my life was by the knee before the op! I haven't woken up in pain at one in the morning for weeks. I feel like a new me!

Any holidays planned? Unfortunately, we can't afford to go away this year but we have booked off a week in July when Eldest Grandson is coming to spend a few days and we are looking up places to go. Current strong contenders are The Clink Prison in Southwark (he will just love all the blood and guts and torture chambers) and The London Wetlands Centre near Barnes. Either way we'll take a picnic because he really enjoys the mystery of all the packed sarnies, fruit and crisps. So we have that to look forward to. We have also booked a week at the end of October where we might see if we can afford a long weekend away or a midweek break somewhere cheap and cheerful - Butlins Bognor would be all right. A lot depends on the cash situation. We are not overly bothered by our lack of holiday this year, though, considering we have been having two a year for the past five years. The last time we couldn't afford at least one holiday was the year after we got married, so who's complaining?

All in all, I am feeling a whole lot better about a whole lot of things. The second book is almost ready, the local interest book is coming together and the poetry is slowly but surely making a come-back.

Amazing the effect a bit of decent weather has on one's libido. 10CC were right when they sang about Mr Blue Sky - Hey there, Mr Blue, we're so pleased to be with you, look around see what you do, everybody smiles at you.

Back soon.

POST-OP BLUES

2009-05-21T02:09:00.000-07:00

Made it out of the op ok. Am still quite sore - sitting up at a table to use the laptop doesn't really help but I am getting there slowly and surely. Feeling rather bruised emotionally today though, even though the op was a week ago. Felt fine until I realised I can't afford to take my full two weeks recovery time. Theoretically speaking I should not be going back to the day job until Monday week. But because the company I have wasted seven years of life on with hardly a day off sick along the way don't pay sick pay and because the statutory sick pay is so abysmal, I have got no choice but to go back next Tuesday (albeit on a part time basis), just so I can clear a repectable wage packet at the end of the month. Naturally this has filled me with the post-op blues I have thus far managed to stultify. Or should that be stullify?

I can't help brooding on the fact that the reduced recuperation period means I will not be able to do anywhere near the amount of writing I had envisioned. This in turn has made me realise that I will probably never be a full time writer which is enough to sicken any author's spirit. And all that has led me to question my very existence and ask the all-consuming, non-answerable question of Why Am I Here?

Ah well - let's not go there. I am trying to convince myself that I will feel better tomorow. At least I wrote a poem on Tuesday. And woke up with the smidge of a new idea this morning. It is sad that it's little things like that which - in my current mood - keep me going......

UH-OH......

2009-05-13T01:51:00.000-07:00

I wave a gallant hand and head off to hospital tomorrow for my knee operation. I daren't confess I am scared brainless - not even to myself! It isn't helped when someone says "Oh yes - I know someone who had that done - to both knees. It took him almost a year to recover!" (thank you Colleague Who Shall Remain Nameless). It isn't the op itself I am worried about - just the fact I will likely as not feel battered and bruised for a few days and be hobbling around on crutches. Ah well - as Mary Poppins said - if I must, I must! It needs doing; end of story.

Hoping not to be out of commission for too long, though. Lots going on - second children's book due out soon, third children's book needing swift re-write, research for Local Interest Book gaining momentum (have at least half a dozen meetings to line up when I am back on my feet for this project), Poems running round in my head looking for a way out like demented ants - and poor old Writewords has taken a huge backseat of late so need to catch up with them, too. Bearing all this in mind, Hubby suggested today that I bring Laptop down to living room tonight just in case the muse takes me (after I recover from the anaesthetic) so will do that.

Hopefully be well enough to do another blog in a few days. In the meantime, wish me luck as you wave me goodbye, here I go, cheerio, on my way ...

DER SPRING IS SPRUNG DER GRASS IS RIZ....

2009-04-20T01:18:00.000-07:00

Isn't it nice to have some sunshine again? Hubby and I took full advantage of the gorgeous weather on Saturday and finally gave our lawn its first haircut of the year! What a job! The grass was dry as a bone on top but wet as a puddle underneath and the flymo did not like it one little bit! Still perseverence won out and all day yesterday I kept looking out of the French Windows and admiring the garden. Neither Hubby nor I are particularly green-fingered but we do like the garden to look presentable. The plan is to tackle the front lawn and hedge if the weather is with us this weekend, so fingers crossed.

How was your Easter? Hubby bought me a plain chocolate Thorntons egg and I bought him a box of Ferero Rocher (I think I have spelt that wrong - the ambassador would not be amused). It is the first time we have ever, ever, ever bought each other chocolate at Easter. I don't know what came over us. My chocolate egg lasted the whole Easter weekend. Hubby still has four of his Ferero Rocher left and last night boldly sacrificed those to me when I realised I had no chocolate in the house (that is a disaster believe me). But I valiantly held off. As a reward I shall treat myself to a big bar of Bournville Plain later today.

I went for my pre-assessment at the hospital last Wednesday. Operation Kneecap goes ahead on Thursday 14 May. I am not particularly looking forward to it but it will be such a relief when it has all healed up and I can walk normally again and not wake up in pain-racked misery at one in the morning. The knee has been especially troublesome since last Tuesday when I made the mistake of running for a tram. Something popped and the pain was excruciating. I will never run for a tram again - even after the knee has been fixed.

Anything else? Oh yeah - the local interest book project is gaining momentum. The two primary local papers have run a couple of articles about it and appealed to the readers for stories and anecdotes for possible inclusion. Apparently, a big story is due out in the Advertiser this weekend and I have another meeting planned for this Thursday about it. I am trying to get some quotes for print but the three printing companies I have had a response from have come back as much too expensive - so if you are reading this, and know someone in the print trade who is fairly local to Croydon, please pass on my contact details ASAP.

Have a good Monday!

ROLL UP ROLL UP - BOOK SIGNING IS ON ...

2009-03-25T00:39:00.000-07:00

Had a meeting yesterday at a local church who are holding a craft fair on 11 July. I spotted the sign on the gate last Saturday and - being the new ultra-confident me - instantly saw the potential. I rang the number straight away and left a message. By five pm, I'd been invited for an informal chat. "What do you do?" asked Jackie the organiser. "I write children's books," I replied. There was a moment of silence before she said "That's different! Usually people tell me they make birthday cards!" Got to meet her yesterday and paid my £10.00 deposit for a table. The plan is to set it up as 'local writer makes good' and obviously to sell - and sign - as many books as I possibly can! I have already spoken to Sarah the Publisher about obtaining a stock of Yucketypoo books, and she has also graciously agreed to supply me with any posters and flyers I need. It is all extremely exciting! So - if you can get to St Michael and All Angels Church in Poplar Walk, Croydon (there is a car park next door), on Saturday 11 July between 10.00 and 2.30, then come along, say hello - and meet Yucketypoo!

Tomorrow sees me being taken out for lunch by the gentleman with whom I am developing ideas for a local interest book. I have been jotting notes ever since our first meeting three weeks ago and I am more convinced than ever that we are onto something massive here; mainly because he is as enthusiastic and excited about it as I am. And he wants to fund it. I mean how cool is that? I will come back with another update on this as soon as I can.

Still haven't heard about the commission but I was told by another company yesterday that I am 'first on the list' if anything suitable comes up on the ghost-writing route so that's another option. Do you know what else I have done? Suggested a Poet in Residence scheme to one of the major coffee house chains. I do so much writing in Coffee shops (as I am sure I have said before) - and so do lots of other people - so I will keep persuing this until they respond.

Finally - before I dash off - I am going to set up another blog to run in tandem with this one which will mainly showcase my haiku and tanka so keep your eyes peeled.

And please, please, PLEASE get hold of a copy of The Choice by Og Mandino. Read and devour it because it will convince you - as it did me - that the power of choice can be enormous. I chose in January this year to live my writing dream. And I am.

BEING A WRITER

2009-03-18T00:37:00.000-07:00

I have got lots and lots and lots of fingers in pies and toes in doors in the wonderful world of writing right now. It is all due to a realisation at the beginning of the year. It is something I have known for a while but never really acted on and it is this - if I don't make it happen, nobody else will. It is that simple. In fairness to myself, I think I did act on it before when I was writing jelly baby stories for Trebor Basset and running creative writing courses at adult education centres and workshops for children at local libraries - and writing a weekly children's column for the local rag. That all happened in the space of a year and it was because I made it happen. I had realised then - and have re-realised now - that opportunities seldom come knocking at my door unless I have knocked on theirs first.

After my stint in the literary desert during the tail end of last year, I just knew that I had to get out there and sell myself again. Not as a high-class hooker you understand - but as the person I am - the writer. So I have contacted and signed up with two companies who use ghost writers and have already been invited to pitch for a series of boys' adventure stories. I got my sample chapter in two weeks ago and hope to hear soon whether or not I have won the commission. If I don't get it, it won't matter. At least the company took me seriously enough to consider me. I contacted someone about a local interest book three weeks ago and have a second meeting lined up about that next week so fingers crossed there (quite difficult when they are already in pies but I'll try anything once). I have been in touch with the local tourist information centre and made some suggestions for an exhibition there on the theme of local literary connections (and Croydon has quite a few, believe it or not) so I will follow that up over the next day or two. I crawled out of my comfort zone and ventured into Brighton all by myself last Thursday to attend a Society of Authors seminar at the wonderful Jubilee Library - and that was a real eye-opener. I met Judy Cornwell!! We shook hands and chatted and sat next to each other and I understood I was back in my true world. I suddenly realised I have been starving myself of litarary oxygen. I truly need to mingle with other writers from time to time.

On top of all that, I have actually been invited to take part in an exclusive poetry competition and that is the first time that has ever happened. I am writing whenever I get the chance, and looking for new openings all the time. It is amazing how inspired and alive I feel again. I am always telling aspiring poets and writers to believe in themselves and their writing. I have always been good at firing up others. But none of that amounts to a thing if I don't pratice what I preach, does it? Current projects include re-establishing contact with the Duchess of York with regards to picking up the thread of an idea for a project we got close to a couple of years ago that never came to fruition. I am also trying to contact a number of celebrities with a view to asking them to read and comment on the Yucketypoo series so that they can be quoted on the cover of either the second or third book. I have somehow become involved with the Earl's Court Literature Festival which takes place in July (long story - tell you about that another time) and I am seeing new chances everywhere I look. All I need now is an agent - sadly that still eludes me and it is not through lack of trying. Eventually I will find one. And a website - which I am working on.

I am offering my services as a writer and critic to anyone that needs it. I am good at what I do.
Contact me. I'd love to help you turn your writing career around, too.

THE WRITER IS LOOSE

2009-02-24T23:46:00.000-08:00

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 ...................

'S NO JOKE.......

2009-02-04T23:59:00.000-08:00

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!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!

2009-01-02T02:49:00.000-08:00

I was shocked this morning when I realised that I haven't witten a blog for a month! It seriously doesn't feel long since I rambled on about Secret Santas and Cristmas prezzies and suddenly - here we are in 2009! How did that happen? Anyway may I wish you all a very happy, lucky and successful new year whatever your aims and goals are. Now - where was I? Oh yes - the Secret Santa. My name had fallen to a male colleague but I have to say I was quite pleasantly surprised by his choice of gift. It was a pair of figurines from Doctor Who. They actually double as a set of walkie-talkies but I have just added them to my collection of dolls, teddies and thunderbirds memorobelia. They feature the Doctor (in his Christopher Eccleston guise) and the chief Slitheen and each fugure stands at least 12 inches tall so I wasn't complaining. In fact it was quite a relief because I seriously didn't know what to expect.

So how was your Christmas? The overall mood of 2008 did not really change over the festive season. My lovely neighbour Lily (see blog from 11.9.07)passed away the Monday before Christmas, my sweet little cat died of old age the Saturday after and on the 30th, I went to Lily's funeral. Despite all that though, Hubby and I did manage to enjoy our day - our first Christmas alone together in all the years we have been together (almost 26 of them). It was quiet and unhurried and we had a nice leisurely time. Then, for New Year, we went down to rural Danehill in West Sussex to cheer January in with Youngest Sister and co. which was a good laugh.

Do you have any plans for 2009? I am signing up for a promotion drive with Lollypop which bodes well for the future, I received my first EVER royalty cheque which was a massive achievement and I have already had a letter published (in Mslexia) this year! Plus I am feverishly researching and note-scribbling for the new novel (and I will tell you more about that soon, as well). My plan is to keep the momentum going and make this the Year of Me. I am recommending that everyone I know does the same!

Enjoy!

SECRET SANTA OR BUST ....

2008-12-10T23:39:00.000-08:00

We have done a Secret Santa at the day job. The spending limit was £10.00 and today I brought my contribution into the office. I had a Brand New Bear created at the Build-A-Bear Workshop in Centrale, Croydon, named after the lucky recipiant who just happens to be male and the sales manager. I chose a bear because he collects them and my bet was that he had never had one created just for him so, when his name fell to me in the name draw, I knew exactly what I would be getting for him. Hubby made an interesting comment though as I emerged triumphant with the new bear snug in his travel box. He said "I hope whoever got your name is just as thoughtful." This is a valid point. Last year, I was working in a different part of the company and we were encouraged to write a suggestion or two before the names went into the hat for picking. I wrote "Thorntons Chocolates or Smiths voucher" and I got a Smiths Voucher which was then put towards the price of the 2008 Poetry Writer's Handbook. This year, no such option was given so who knows what any of us will end up with? Do men take things like a Secret Santa seriously or is that strictly a female domain? I have been worried ever since that I will end up with totally inappropriate smellies, a vibrator or some Chocolate Body Paint - or something from the Pound Shop. I don't mean to sound ungrateful and I know it is the thought that counts. But I also know, from working with men that, by and large, their thoughts tend to be made up of Sex, Football, Booze and Facebook. It will be interesting to see what us girls end up with if our name happened to be picked by a fella, don't you think? Stay tuned for The Big Reveal which, I have been reliably informed, takes place this Friday.

Talking of Christmas presents, I am at a complete loss this year as to what to get for Hubby. He tells me he is having a similar problem getting stuff for me. It is not only because money is tight. It is also because we have been together for such a long time now that we don't really need anything. We have built up our home as much as the sweet little place will take it; the children have flown the roost and we have all the necessary apparel so what else is there? We did agree to only buy little things to unwrap on The Big Day so that we can put the rest of the money towards tickets to a show - but I know Hubby and a few little things will not be enough as he always wants to give me the world. I know he would like an iPod (although neither of us would know what to do with it, he just likes the concept of having all his favourite music at the touch of a button) and I, personally, would like to get him a basic Mobile Phone but he has flatly refused to get involved with them so it would be quite pointless to get him one. It goes without saying that he'd like to give me the opportunity to stay at home and write and I would like to give him the opportunity to go into semi-retirement, but neither are possible without some help from the lottery so where do we go from here?

I am hoping to get the chance next week to go out and get his stuff and I do have a few little ideas for stocking fillers and tree presents, but no ideas at all for his proper gifts. Any suggestions? I suppose with the world on the brink of economic collapse and everyone still reeling from the Baby P scandal and all the other horrid things going on in the world, that I should be very grateful for the fact that one of my main problems at this point in time is what to buy my husband for Christmas. I do know how privelaged I actually am, believe it or not and I, like everyone else with any heart really wishes only two things for 2009 - Peace and Enough Food To Go Round. And I would actually be quite willing to give everything up to make them possible - even the Secret Santa.

CHICKEN POX AND CHRISTMAS SHOPS

2008-12-03T23:35:00.000-08:00

We had Youngest Step-daughter's two littluns over at the weekend. Eldest Grand-daughter was just getting over chicken pox and Youngest Grandson was just starting it. I was up all night with him on Saturday as he writhed and screamed - although he did manage to snatch two and a half hours sleep from around 2.30 a.m out of pure exhaustion. It is a long time since I held such a sick infant in my arms and I felt so sorry for him. He is only ten months old, he didn't understand what was happening and couldn't tell me how he was feeling so he did the only thing he could - cry. Youngest Step-daughter did offer to come and get him but I told her to hold off. She and Clever Son-in-Law recently split up and I knew she needed the break - particularly since she'd already seen Eldest Grand-daughter through it single-handedly. Chicken pox is just so nasty, isn't it? I didn't get it until I was about 12 which is quite late. But it seems horribly unfair for a ten-month old to get it and he really was so unwell.

Youngest Step-daughter arrived to collect the children around 10.30 Sunday morning and looked as if she'd been up crying all night. I felt very angry with Clever Son-in-Law - or Former Son-in-Law as he shall henceforth be known - for not being around to support her when she obviously needed it but of course as a parent - even a step-parent - I know not to get involved or to show my own feelings about the whole sorry mess. We did ask her if she'd like to stay for the night but she refused saying she wants to keep the routine as normal as possible for the two children and Eldest Grand-daughter had nursery the next day. Fortunately by the time she arrived, Youngest Grandson had perked up quite a bit. His temperature had returned to normal and he'd eaten some weetabix for his breakfast - which was more than he'd managed the previous day when the worst was only just beginning - and he beamed up at her, spots and all, as she walked through the door.

After they'd gone, Hubby and I had a whole hour to clear up before Youngest Sister arrived with her hubby and youngest son for lunch - soup and French Stick - prior to meeting Mother in Croydon for a spot of Christmas shopping. Hubby was working so he stayed behind as the rest of us braved the freezing winds and hit Poundland and the new 99p shop with great gusto to stock up on Christmas Cookies and other festive delights. By the time I got home just after 5pm he had left and at 7pm I fell into bed, the lost sleep of Saturday night finally catching up and hitting me full-force! I only woke up once and that was when Mother called me at 9pm to see how I was. I went straight back to sleep afterwards and stayed that way until the alarm roused me the following morning.

This weekend Hubby and I are determined to get the bulk of our present buying out of the way so we are both looking forward to that and the following weekend we are off to Worthing to see Vampires Rock. Less than two weeks after that is the Big Day itself then the New Year will arrive and we'll start all over again - and hopefully, 2009 will be a better year all round.

Catch you again soon.

IT'S BEGINNING TO FEEL A LOT LIKE CHRISTMAS ...

2008-11-26T04:34:00.000-08:00

Hubby and I went down to rural Danehill in West Sussex last Saturday, where Youngest Sister and Brother-In-Law run the village store, to celebrate the village Tree-lighting ceremony - you know - like Trafalgar Square but on much much smaller scale. Of course Saturday night just had to be the coldest of the winter so far so it was a very chilly group of us that stood singing Christmas carols as the tree-lights twinkled and frost paved the way for snow. It was sooooo lovely, though; thousands of stars, everyone muffled up in gloves and scarfs and hats, mulled wine and warm mince pies doing the rounds, excited children tearing about, Father Christmas ho-ho-ho-ing in his jolliest fashion; it was like stepping back into that old Judy Garland movie "Meet Me In St Louis" and really brought the Christmas spirit into all our hearts. The only thing missing was the snow but that came in droves on Sunday morning when Neice # 2 convinced Hubby and I that we should go and meet her horse Billy.

Now I absolutely love horses. I think they are gentle giants with the lovliest liquid eyes and softest velvet noses and sweetest natures imaginable. Unfortunately I am also horribly horribly allergic to them so that, even though I took two anti-histimines and kept my distance from thoroughbred Billy, I felt my sinuses clog, my eyes stream and my chest tighten from the second I entered his snowy field and watched him canter towards Neice # 2 and regard her with complete and utter adoration. By the time we got back to the house, I was in the first early throws of asthma and had to get very liberal with the inhaler. I did not actually feel a hundred per cent again until yesterday morning, but it was worth it to see the look of pride on her face. The things aunties do for gorgeous neices!

Hubby greeted me last night when I got home with the excellent news that his shares had sold so we can actually afford to go out and do some Christmas shopping soon. What a relief. I know we'd have coped somehow without them if we'd had to, but it does take a certain amount of the burden off knowing we can do it without breaking the bank, now. We still can't go as mad as we did a few years back when we remortgaged but we can afford to give ourselves a Christmas budget which makes the whole thing a lot more enjoyable. And guess what? We have got Eldest Grand-daughter and Youngest Grandson staying with us this weekend and I am sure we will take them into Christmassy Croydon on Saturday. It will be interesting to see how they react to the singing Christmas tree in Centrale and moving mannequins in Whitgift after Eldest Grand-daughter's clear distaste last year. Hopefully she will not be averse to going to see Santa although, I have to confess, the grotto in Whitgift is a sad disappointment after last year's winter wonderland. I guess even Santa must be feeling the pinch a bit!

And as Christmas is now less than a month away, I have got to say how very impatient I am for the Christmas break to begin so that I can write and write and write and work on my new project. Who knows - maybe next year, I really will be able to cut the hours at the day job and do what I am meant to be doing with my life. Well - I can live in hope, can't I? Maybe I will drop Santa a letter - how should it go? Oh yes ... Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing.......

WOO-HOO!!!!!!

2008-11-20T00:04:00.000-08:00

Guess what, Blogspot Buddies? I am writing again! What a huge relief; I was beginning to think I'd lost it forever. I am very excited about my new work in progress because it is one of those projects that seems to come from nowhere, yet feels as if it has been waiting somewhere at the back of my mind forever. If it carries on developing at the rate it currently is, I could be sitting on something amazing. And this all came about because I did something I haven't done in ages - I sat back and looked at the whole picture.

As you know, I have had a couple of very dificult years in a row - my health, Mother's health. personal stuff going on in our lives (including the arrival of three grandchildren after having just one grandson for ten years), the job situation and so on. Lollypop came along and took on Yucketypoo, taking me by surprise when they then commissioned two sequels where none had ever been planned. The whirligig of having that published, the ups and downs of creating the sequels so that they were as fresh and original as the first one and tying that entire package together has probably made for the most difficult time in my entire writing career. As I got more and more tied up with Yucks 2 and 3, everything else in my writing life kind of fell by the wayside. In short, I felt completely at a loss. Where I'd been tootling along my entire life writing and publishing the odd poem here, article there and meeting the odd commission, all of a sudden there was a pre-destined path I had never expected or envisaged and I just didn't handle it terribly well. The harder I tried to find the writer I once was, the less likely it became that I would. I think maybe I even burned myself out to a point.

The other week I resigned from being group host to the Young Children and Haiku groups on Writewords because I was finding it more and more difficult to give them any degree of attention. I haven't quit Writewords, you understand; I have just taken a breather. Around the same time, I signed up for NANOWRIMO (National Novel Writing Month) where the gauntlet is thrown down for writers of all levels to come up with a 50,000 word novel between November 1st and November 30th. If they achieve it, they get a certificate and if they don't - well they can always try again next year. I will not be getting the certificate this year. A week and a half in and I suddenly saw a new possibility and here I am, three weeks in, rediscovering within myself what it is like to be an active writer again. And I am quite happy to continue along this path for as long as this new work will have me. I feel suddenly free and unfettered. I am writing again because I want to; no more, no less. It is a good feeling.

I won't give too much away about the new project, just in case it changes its mind and puts itself on the back burner again. But I will come back to my blog more often now that I have got something worth telling you about.

Catch up soon.

IN PRAISE OF MSLEXIA

2008-10-27T14:07:00.000-07:00

Have you ever heard of Mslexa? It is a quarterly magazine that targets mainly writing women and I have subscribed to it for about four years. I read a brilliant feature in the current issue today that struck a real chord and actually re-lit the candle of my heart. It is by a novelist called Rachel Zadok who was saying how much harder she has been finding it to write her second book than she did her first. It was almost an epiphonus moment for someone whose inner writer has been slowly but surely dying, leaving a hole the size of the Grand Canyon in her heart! I was so moved by Rachel's words that I could actually hear the chains dropping away. Thank God I am not the only one! Thank God I am not alone in the hair-tearing, gut-wrenching, heart-breaking struggle to overcome Writer' bloody Block and just get on with the job in hand! In fact I was so uplifted that I wrote to the letters page and thanked Ms Zadok for rescuing me! How well I can identify with her pain, her sense of loss, her period of almost mourning.

I guess something just had to give soon. Sarah the Publisher called me last week and asked if I was okay. I have been so quiet and elusive, she said, that she thought I'd fallen out of the bottom of the world! She was right of course, I really had. I could not seem to focus, I could not commit myself, I could not write. In ten weeks or so, all I have managed is half a dozen haiku, one poem, two blogs and a dozen or so journal entries. That is an appalling record for someone who, once upon a time, could sit down and rattle off three thousand words in a day, every single day, until something was finshed. Twelve years ago I wrote a 75 0000 word novel in something like six weeks. When I was even younger I used to literally finish one book and start the next.

So the question just begs to be asked - what went wrong? What happened? Oh I could of course (and actually did, too, if I am not mistaken) blame any number of external distractions. I wasn't well. Hubby wasn't well. Cat wasn't well. Mother was in hospital. Gay Friend's parents' house was burgled. The weather was too hot, cold, wet, bright, overcast, windy. The country is sliding into economic chaos. The world is on the brink of depression. I got stung by some stinging nettles. I had to sit and watch A Touch of Frost, or Merlin or a DVD. I had a headache, an earache, a toothache, a brain-ache. I hated writing. I loved writing. I was a writer. I wasn't a writer. I was a bloody pain in the arse!

In truth I could search from now until the next millenium for a reason and not actually find a single one that had any real clout. It was just me. It was Me all the time. Silly, dotty, dopey little old Me. Well not anymore. Not now. My best work is yet to come and in order for it to come, I will find the time, meet other writers, make sure I start thinking like a writer again. I hereby wage war of Writer's Block! I proclaim to all and sundry that Now is My Time.

So thank you Rachel Zadok. And thank you Mslexia. And thank you Blog-Buddies. Now I move forward with confidence.

I'll just go and make myself a cuppa first ......

AM I UP FOR THE CHALLENGE?

2008-10-16T11:57:00.000-07:00

I know I have been a bit quiet of late but there hasn't really been a lot to write about since our weekend with the grandchildren. This weekend, Hubby and I are going to see Shout at The Chruchill Theatre in Bromley which is, as its title suggests, a musical set in 60s London featuring lots of 60s music, The next family event will be the one at our place introducing Youngest Grand-daughter to my side of the family so that'll be nice. And then there's the Tree-Lighting ceremony at Youngest Sister's village in West Sussex and finally a weekend in Worthing for Hubby and I two weeks before Christmas when we go to see the latest Rock musical, entitled Vampires Rock, which is evidently becoming something of a cult musical. Oh yes, we like our musicals. If you haven't seen We Will Rock You or Blood Brothers yet, please go as soon as you can.

As far as the writing is concerned, I have been going through something of a literary wilderness for a few weeks, only managing a few poems here and there which is not good at all. It isn't that I don't want to write, it is just finding the inclination to sit down and do it after spending all day at the office, that I find difficult. Anyway, I have taken the bull by the horns (or the writing by the quill) and signed up to write a 50,000 word novel by the end of November in an annual writing challenge. There are no main prizes, save a certificate, if you actually do it, but I just need to do something before the writer within dies completely. It will be good for me to have a deadline to work to again and if you are interested in finding out more about the challenge, go to
http//:www.nanowrimo.org/eng/whatisnano

I know it won't suit everyone, but if it gets me writing again, I won't complain!

And I think that's about it for today - sorry I haven't something more interesting to write about, I will try to make amends next time, promise.

BUSY WEEKEND

2008-10-02T23:29:00.001-07:00

Well - here we are in October. How did that happen? Last time I looked it was still mid-June!

What a weekend! When I got home from the Day Job on Friday last week, Youngest Step-daughter, Clever Son-in-Law and the two littluns were already there. Youngest Step-daughter explained to me about Youngest Grandson's feeds, medicines and sleeping habits, smiling wanly only when Clever-Son-in-Law remarked "I am sure she knows how to look after babies!" I smiled supportively and said "Yes, but if it makes you feel better, you carry on, darling." It did make her feel better so I let her finish. Before they went, Youngest Grandson was put to bed in the Travel Cot but within an hour of their leaving, he wanted Out so we let him up to play with his sister for a while. Turned out he had a real humdinger of a cold anyway so I was up with him twice more in the night administering calpol, puffers and clean nappies and he was then ready for the new day by 5.30 Saturday morning.

I am not sure why but Eldest Grand-daughter now associates her Grandad and I with the Tram and the Cafe and insisted we do both during the day Saturday. We took them into Croydon on the tram and she shared a chocolate muffin with Grandad at Nero's in George Street, then we went for a wander and some lunch and finally headed to Lloyd Park just outside Addington as she wanted to experience The Long Tunnel the tram goes through to get there. At the park, Youngest Grandson snoozed whilst his sister played on the swings, slide, see-saw and climbing frame, showing first me, and then her Grandad just how clever she is. Saturday night wasn't too bad. I think all the fresh air knocked Youngest Grandson out and I only got up with him once when his asthma made him cough and grizzle which meant another dose of Salbutomol. I give him his credit though. For all the fact he is only nine months old he certainly copes well with his puffer and he was quite happy to go back to bed where he slept until just after 6 a.m.

We'd arranged to meet their parents in Croydon on the Sunday so we could buy Eldest's Grand-daughter's birthday present. After half an hour in The Early Learning Centre, she picked a washing Machine, and a Shopping Trolley (her choice - at three, Political Correctness falls by the wayside; she wants to emulate Mum, and that's all there is to it) then we head off for some lunch together at Nando's (their treat). Later, Hubby went into work and I squeezed into the car (not easy with two booster seats and a big backside like mine but we made it) and went home. They had left by around 5 p.m. and the exhaustion suddenly hit me like a sledge hammer. I mean how do these young parents do it? I fell into bed at 7.00, got up just before nine, had a bite to eat as I watched Jonathan Creek then went back to bed at ten where I stayed till the following morning.

Woke up Monday with Youngest Grandson's humdinger which wiped me out for three days before I began to feel better yesterday morning and all I have left now is a tickley cough, thank goodeness. There was a time not so many years ago that a cold like that would have led to a full blown asthma attack and ten days in hospital. I must getting more resilient as I get older.

It is always a real treat having our babies for the weekend and we cherish every second but my God is it tiring! And of course having them and then the humdinger meant that no writing at all has been done this week - except for one very short poem in preparation for Poppy Day and this blog. Now next week, I will make sure I do something. I have promised a fellow Writewords member a critique on her children's story so that is my first priority. I also need to upload some new work of my own because the summery poem and kid's story currently displayed there are now weeks out of date. Plus, I really do have to make some time to sort out the research I have already done for The Historical Novel - or The Emma Book as it is now known throughout the family. And I still need to find a way that I can maintain a steady income whilst promoting the Yuck series, so there is plenty to do. It is just a case of finding the time. Still - something will turn up, I am convinced of that.

Catch you later.......

WARM GLOW

2008-09-26T00:11:00.000-07:00

It has been another difficult week (my life is full of them this year). Got another dreaded phone call on Tuesday morning - Mother was being rushed to hospital with a suspected heart attack! One of my colleagues drove me to the hospital. So scary seeing Mother hooked up to so many monitors and screens and wires; truly horrendous! Thank God it turned out to be no more than a strained muscle - but that wasn't established until Wednesday night by which time I'd spent almost as long at the hospital as she had! Barely ate all day Tuesday with all the worry. Nice that Middle Sister, Youngest Sister, Brother in Law and Eldest Neice all got the chance to visit and see how Mother was faring but it was a very dodgy 48 hours I can tell you. Anyway, she is home now. Her confidence has taken another massive knock but I am sure she'll bounce back - she usually does.

I have woken up in fine fettle today. Perhaps it is partly because Mother is ok. But I also think it is because Hubby and I are having Eldest Grand-daughter and Youngest Grandson over for the weekend. Youngest Grandson is now crawling, pulling himself up and navigating his way round by grabbing anything he can along the way - table-cloth, speaker-stand, CD rack, you name it. Eldest Grand-daughter, now three and quite the little madam, has learned (according to her mum) how to be defiant and stubborn and a handful. So Hubby and I have certainly got a busy weekend ahead. Not that we would have them any other way, you understand. But I have a feeling we'll be exhausted by Sunday when they go home.

And finally, very quickly, it is good to see a bit of sunshine don't you think? I know it isn't very warm - but it certainly looks pretty as the sun catches the golden leaves on the trees and the emerald wing of the parakeet.

Wow! I must be feeling good - I am thinking like a poet again!

LONG TIME NO SPEAK!

2008-09-10T00:39:00.000-07:00

How are we all? I feel incredibly well-rested after our two weeks in the Channel Islands. Got back last Saturday evening around 8pm. Was shattered Sunday and, after first-dayitis at Day Job, shattered Monday night. Having a quiet five minutes right now, so thought I'd steal a bit of office time and at least make a start on a new blog. I don't want to lose touch with my Blog-spot Buddies.

Gosh - so much has happened since last I wrote that I don't really have a clue where to start. I won't give you a blow-by-blow account of our holiday except to say that I have positively lost my heart to Alderney. Hubby did too. I think it is because it is like a little bit of Olde England! There are no traffic lights, no roundabouts, no regular bus route and there's only one town - St Annes, which largely consists of one street - Victoria Street. Hubby and I got there late afternoon on the Friday before last and left there late afternoon on the following Monday. But - and it is a big But - such is the quality of pure unadulterated Time over there, it actually felt as if we'd been there for weeks and weeks. Doctor Who would understand. Alderney is the Olde Worlde answer to the T>A>R>D>I>S. It is less than four miles by two and only around two and a half thousand people live there! What's more, by the end of Saturday we were on first name terms with virtually everyone we met. It is so idyllic and laid back and unbelievably unspoilt that we just didn't want to leave the place! If you are stuck for a vacation next year and don't know where to go, and you like the quiet lifestyle (half-day closing Wednesday, two hours lunch break every day and a cinema that is only open twice a week), then for goodness sake pay them a visit. Stay at the Victoria Hotel on Victoria Street and give Jenny our love! It is quite ironic that Alderney was the island where we spent the least time (Jersey six days before, Guernsey five days after and one of those was given over to that other little gem Herm) yet it is the one place we cannot stop talking or thinking about. For such a tiny place it surely made a truly huge impression

Good news where the Lollypop contract for the second and third Yuck books are concerned. After much wrangling, wrist-wringing and tearing of hair, Writer, Sarah the Publisher and Ashley the Illustrator are in agreement. What a relief! It has taken us weeks to get there and both sequels have been written. What a culture shock it has been to become a fully-fledged author! But it has been worth every irritating, infuriating and truly wonderful second. My plan now is to try and get some kind of funding that can take me out of work for at least six months to really promote the series and make a good start on research for the new book - not to mention the long-lamented Historical novel.

By far the best news of all and the most magical way to sign off for now is to tell you about the arrival of New Baby Grand-daughter. She was born the day after my last blog and weighed just under 6lb. That was on the Thursday. On Sunday 17th, we hot-tailed it up to Peterborough to meet her. It was a real family get-together, with Youngest Step-daughter, Clever-Son-In-Law and their two little ones also making the pilgrimage. Hubby's parents were unable to make it as they had an appointment with Buckingham Palace (they truly did - will explain another time) - but it was still quite a house-ful for Eldest Step-daughter, Laid-back Son-in-Law and Eldest Grandson to contend with. New Baby Grand-daughter behaved perfectly and received her stream of guests with enormous good grace considering she was only four days old! Oh but she is a little beauty! And I am not at all biased.......

ONE YEAR ON.

2008-08-13T13:02:00.000-07:00

On 23rd August - which is actually the day we fly out to Jersey - it will be one year since I pledged on my blog that my goal was to be writing full time by that date one year on. Well - as we all know it hasn't happened. This makes me sit back and take stock of what actually has happened in that 12 months and I am not actually too sure where to begin really. Obviously the Yucketypoo book being published, printed and bound must be the first thing mentioned really - and I still carry the first copy I ever got around wih me because I still get days when I can't believe it has actually happened. Writing-wise, I am pleased that I finally got the two sequels written but we are still not certain the second one will be out by ths Christmas which is something of a worry. Other successes in that area are having another poem accepted for inclusion in a new anthology and the fact that two editors have actually come up and asked me if I'd be interested in writng for them. Robert Hale said they wouldn't mind seeing the fist three chapters and a synopsis of my long-planned but as yet unwritten historical novel so we will have to wait and see if anything comes of that.

On the whole, I am quite pleased with what I have achieved writing-wise but it pains me to relate that I still have not succeeded in finding an agent who is prepared to take me on! I know I still have a huge amount of writing to do - but the problem is lack of time, as ever! And on particularly busy days at the day job, I do wonder sometimes if I am ever going to be able to be really free to just be what I believe God intended me to be. I know He moves in mysterious ways - I just hadn't bargained for all the detours along the way! Again - I will just have to wait and see. I cannot believe I have come this far to just let it all fall by the wayside.

Importantly, I have discovered a whole circle of lovely Blog-spot Buddies who have cheered with me during the high times, brightened my mood during the low times and generally put up with my grumblings, so thank you all.

And now I suppose, I shall just have to start making plans for the next year.

Just one question - does FIFTY ONE & NOT OUT have the same ring to it? Hmmm! That's a poser. Answers on a postcard please!

BLACKPOOL & BACK

2008-08-05T23:39:00.000-07:00

What a great week we have just had in Blackpool! The weather was good - only a sprinkling of showers and one heavy downpour - the rest of the week was brilliant sunshine. Blackpool is definitely a 'happening' place; loads going on there and plenty to do and see. Hubby and Eldest Grandson loved it, too. Not quite sure how I ended up going on the Pepsi Max Big One on Pleasure Beach - it is 210' at its highest point. The 'G' force on the first downward sweep is short but very VERY intense! Afterwards, Eldest Grandson and I stood underneath it and wondered how we'd had the guts to do it. I must say in the obligatory photograph which is taken randomly as you start to drop, Eldest Grandson looks terrified whilst good ol' granny (ie - me) has a somewhat inane grin on her face. I actually think that grin was petrified into place because it didn't leave me until we were safely back on terra firma. I almost expected to find I'd wet myself in sheer terror! Hadn't though, thank goodness, so I can forget about the Tenas for a while yet.

After The Big One (210' at its highest point!!!!!!!!!!Ahggg!), the rest of the rides we went on were somewhat tame. Not that we went on that many. We also went up the Tower and did the Walk of Faith on a thick pane of glass set in the floor with clear views all the way down to the street 310' below - at least Eldest Grandson and I did; Hubby (who has no head for heights at all) just closed his eyes and stepped across one corner before opening them again. We also went to the zoo. I am not a huge fan of zoos but I must say this one was quite impressive. The animals are in large spacious enclosures and there are conservation notes up everywhere that tell visitors how they are cared for and what their chances of survival are for the future. I am pleased they are not kept in cages anymore. And having read that elephants might be extinct by 2020 (which would be a tragedy), it is nice to know that future generation will still have the chance to see these magnificent creatures, albeit not in the wilds. Other attractions enjoyed were the Sealife Centre, the Waxworks place (horrible bit in the Chamber of Horrors, though, where you have to walk through a dozen or so corpses wrapped in cellophane and hung on meat hooks in order to get from one part of the grisly exhibition to another. I knew they were not real corpses of course but it sent a singularly unpleasant shiver down my spine as they whumped into me and left me feeling queasy for the next hour), the Ripley's Believe It Or Not exhibition and the Doctor Who museum. One of the best bits of the whole holiday was when we went to see Queen tribute band QEII at the North Pier Theatre on Thursday night. As huge Queen fans all three (even Eldest Grandson), we waited in the bar afterwards to meet up with the band members. Such nice fellas! We ended up chatting for almost an hour and exchanged contact details. Hubby even invited them to come and stay with us if they are ever performing in the South East - and they said they would!

All in all - a great holiday, thoroughly enjoyed by all. On Saturday, we dropped Eldest Grandson in Peterborough on our way home (no sign of Eldest Step-daughter's baby yet, though she looked HUGE, bless her) and finally got in to a very welcoming Cat at around 6pm. Sent out for a Chinese (naturally) for dinner, then slept for most of the weekend! Or at least until Hubby went back to work on Sunday night. The count-down now begins for our two week trip to the Channel Isles which begins on 24th August. And of course by the time we get back from that, Christmas will be peeping round the corner again. Where does the time go?

I am aware that I have almost hit the one-year deadline I set myself when I started this blog last year but I'll look into that next time I write.

Till then - adieu!

SAM, BLACKPOOL and the EX-ARMY OFFICER

2008-07-22T23:46:00.001-07:00

Hello everyone. Sorry - I seem to have missed a week somewhere. Maybe escalating time goes hand in hand with escalating age, huh? Or perhaps there is some truth in the old adage that menopausal ladies are just a bit forgetful? Who knows?

It has been a strange couple of weeks. I think my psychic ability - very prevalent in my mis-spent youth - has come back full force. I saw a man in a green jumper this morning who wasn't there the next second; but he was definitely there, standing in a neighbour's garden. He was in his fifties, quite tall with a full head of grey hair and quite distinguished features - as if he'd been a high-rank officer in the army. He watched me walk by. I didn't know him, didn't recognise him (in my little neighbourhood we all know each-other's faces even if we don't know each other's names) but thought I'd nod at him to acknowledge his presence - then he just wasn't there, anymore. I thought to myself 'I wonder who that was?' and carried on walking, as if ex-army officers in green jumpers just pop up out of nowhere every day of the week! Then there's Sam.

Hubby and I moved into our house ten years ago and within weeks of getting there, I started to become aware of the presence of a small boy. I figured him to be about seven, quite slight, fair-haired and mischievious. He never freaked me out. I hung the name Sam on him because it just felt right. At first Hubby was very skeptical. He had always known that I'd had various experiences. I spooked him one day when we were walking along and I said "Who is that man?" "What man?" he asked. "The one that's following us," I told him. We looked round - no man. "You're weird," Hubby said. Anyway, his explanation was that Cat was opening the cupboard door - which fine until we started noticing it when we got up in the morning knowing full well Cat had been shut in the living room as she is every night.

But I think he began to be swayed when things started disappearing, or moving from one place to another. Walking up the stairs one day, I found one of my Lilliput Lane cottages on the top step, for example. I mean no-one in their right mind would deliberately leave a Lilliput Lane cottage in the middle of the top step, would they? More recently, Hubby put seven one pound coins on the dining room table which weren't there when he went to retrieve them. He seriously began to think he'd lost them. Then, one night, a week or so later, we got back from a show and there on the table, were the seven one pound coins. Another time, he knocked an ornament off of the upstairs shelf which he saw go, I heard go but then neither of us could find it. That reappeared in the downstairs hall about a month later, just out of the blue. We get the occasional knock or rap and sometimes Cat's eyes seem to follow something across the room that no-one else can see. I usually say "Is that you, Sam? What are you up to now?" There have been quite a few knocks and raps over the past couple of weeks, actually. Our house is post-war and around fifty years old - I know that exactly because my lovely old neighbour Lily told us she moved into hers when it was brand new. I don't know how to find out the history of a house that is relatively young, so I am not sure how to find out who Sam might have actually been. I'd like to - just to see how close I am! There have been other things but I won't go into them all now. If you want to hear more, let me know, but I don't want to sound like a loopy old lady! I just find the whole thing fascinating.

Next week, change of subject, Hubby and I are off to Blackpool with Eldest Grandson for a week's holiday. We are making the Pontins site our base and we're going on a half-board basis so we won't have to worry about cooking or washing up - apart from the odd cup or glass. There is a lot to do on site - swimming, crazy golf, go-karts, pool, snooker etc plus there's entertainment every night. But I expect we'll do what we usually do and just go out and about and see what's around. Whether Eldest Grandson will persuade me to join him on the roller-coaster at the pleasure beach remains to be seen, but I do know we are going into the tower both to explore it and to see the circus based there. And there seems to be a lot around the area to do and see, so we are all very much looking forward to it. And I will tell you all about it when I come back.

So I'll see you then, blogspot buddies. Have a good week!

FIFTY-ONE AND STILL NOT OUT

2008-07-10T00:05:00.000-07:00

I turned 51 on Tuesday 8th July.On the Friday before, Hubby took me for a lovely meal at Dizzy's Diner in Beckenham and then we head into London on Saturday. I quite fancied a trip to the Natural History Museum in Kensington but it was wall-to-wall people so we left after just a couple of hours - and ended up smack in the middle of Gay Pride. The atmosphere was electric and some of the costumes were amazing. At one point we had a dozen or so theatrical surgeons bypassing us, complete in Greens and masks - as well as a number of gents in full stockings, suspenders and basques who quite outshone their similarly dressed female counterparts. It was like finding yourself in the middle of a Rocky Horror set! I looked out for Gay Colleague, who is one of the sweetest, kindest, nicest people I have ever known, but the throng was too great and I didn't see him. Last year Hubby and I got caught in it and walked into Graham Norton who was talking on his mobile phone and looked exactly like he does on TV - if not a little taller.

Tuesday itself was much quieter in comparison. In the evening, Eldest Grandson rang to wish me happy birthday and Grand-daughter called and sang it down the phone - along with a remarkable performance of Do-Re-Me from The Sound of Music - which she evidently sat through on Sunday and became obsessed with. A couple of months ago it was Mary Poppins and for weeks she walked around saying "Spit-Spot" to anyone who left a shoe out of place. I had some nice cards and lovely gifts. I have been reading Linda Lear's biography of Beatrix Potter for weeks and weeks and Hubby bought me a beautiful hard-backed Beatrix Potter journal from Past Times which contains facsimiles of many of her letters and journal entries, family photos and a re-production edition of her privately published The Tale of Peter Rabbit, all laid out like a scrap book and a perfect companion to the biography. I received a number of Smiths' vouchers, a couple of cheques and Mother gave me a gorgeous personalised pen. I also got a photo-mug featuring lots of cameo photos of Grand-daughter and Youngest Grandson, laughing and giggling. So I have, without doubt, been thoroughly spoilt again.

Of course, for every silver lining, there is a cloud and mine came yesterday when I woke up with yet another cold. And this one's a real humdinger. Even so, I managed to convince everyone, inlcuding myself, that I looked and sounded a lot worse than I actually felt, but today, I have got a searing sore throat so there's no hiding it anymore. I have just bought some tyrozets and taken two and they worked like a charm for the first five minutes, numbing the pain completely. But once the effect wore off, I was back to square one again and I can't take anymore till about 5pm this evening. So I am stuck with it. I don't know what is up with Hubby and I in 2008. He has had one cold after another yet a few years ago he was unlucky if he got one a year - and that was usually over Christmas. And it is only a matter of weeks since my horrendous bout of neuralgia. Basically we are falling apart at the seams so God alone knows what we'll be like ten or fifteen years from now, if we don't watch out.

Anway I will be back later with some news. See you then, blogspot buddies.

GOOGLE YUCKETYPOO!!!!!

2008-06-30T12:43:00.000-07:00

Hello ya'll!

Since beginning my new role at Present Company, I am often so busy that the entire day passes me by in the blink of an eye and I am left bemused as I settle down to dinner at home in the evening! Very very occasionally, I get two minutes to check my emails or surf Google and the other day, during a very rare quiet moment, I came out of one site where I'd been trying to source linen bags for a client and idly tapped YUCKETYPOO into the search box. I nearly fell off my chair! There were pages of it, in everything from French to Japanese and who knows what all in between. If news of the book is hitting foreign book sites likes these, why aren't I earning more commission from it? I was flattered, horrified and completely astonished all at once. So then I tried Yahoo and there it was again! So it does look as if word is steadily creeping through, despite the fact that I often feel completely disconnected from it because I hear so little about what is actually happening.

As it turns out, my Google discovery co-incided almost supernaturally with the arrival of some of Ashley the Illustrator's latest offerings by email which are just brilliant. Sarah the Publisher thinks we may still have a chance of launching the second in the series this year after all which would be a huge relief. There are other things going on that I can't actually tell you about at this moment in time but I will update soon as I can. If they come off, it will be a major step forward. The good thing of course is that all this activity has fired me up again and it is my intention to make a list of schools, book shops, Beaver and Rainbow packs and local libraries by the end of this week so that I can line up some visits, talks and maybe book signings. Fingers crossed.

Watch this space.

ME & PETER PAN

2008-06-10T13:09:00.000-07:00

I don't know about you, but Hubby and I are findng it increasingly difficult every Christmas to come up with surprise gifts. He always buys me clothes, at least one Lilliput Lane cottage, at least one collectible teddy and at least one DVD. I always buy him at least one pack of socks, one bottle of after shave, one diecast vehicle for his massive collection and one CD. He usually gets a sweatshirt too. Last year we really really struggled. I suppose being together for twenty-five years and married for almost ten of those, there isn't much we need anymore. During the chaotic run-up to Christmas (see previous blogs), we each finally found something the other would not be expecting. And the funny thing is that they both turned out to be Gift experiences. You know the kind of thing - white water rafting, a day at a spa, theatre packages. And we didn't realise until Christmas Day that we had both been thinking along the same lines - even without knowing it. I bought him a Red Letter Day Rock Tour - this is a trip around all London's famous Rock spots - Abbey Road, a recording studio, and famous spots like Freddie Mercury's memorial wall and the London pads of the rich and famous. He bought me a helicopter ride.

Now don't snort! When he gave it to me, he insisted I had mentioned several times that I'd never been in a helicopter. I think I mentioned it once in passing. Anyway, being Hubby, he decided last year that he would give me a helicopter tour over London and on the Saturday before last, it finally took place. We had to get all the way to Upminster first, then take a cab to the Damyn Aerodrome which is just outside town. I don't know what I was expecting of the place - a miniature version of Gatwick maybe. What we found was a large open airfield with a small Helicopter centre, a small flying club and a cafeteria. I had to wait for almost an hour for my scheduled flight but what an experience it turned out to be. Hubby took photos from his viewing spot on the field as I boarded, got settled then turned and waved through the window. There were only four of us altogether and one of those was the pilot.

I felt almost Biggles-ish as I put on my headphones and microphone and strapped myself in. Taking off was amazing and the dip forward once we were in the air would have been a bit of a shock if Hubby hadn't warned me about it and the other strange sensation was when we banked right and I found myself looking vertically at the ground as it fell away. Once we were up though - well. No words are truly fitting! Essex sank below us and what took its place was a panarama of fields and villages and hamlets and cars the size of ants. I was amazed at how many people have swimming pools in their back gardens! We had to stop at a small local airport for refuelling so we had to disembark. I took several photos of small aircraft and a large hangar featuring the phrase 'Area 51' (to anyone not in the know that's the American airforce's worst kept secret where there have been all kind of links wih UFOs and other strange aerial phenomena). Then we were back in and on our way to London.

One of the stories my mother read to me as a child was Peter Pan and I loved the bit near the beginning where Peter shows Wendy and her brothers how to fly. Many years later, when we were in Paris on our honeymoon, Hubby took me to Disneyland Paris where we went on the Peter Pan ride - which included flying over a tiny simulation of London. Well you can forget all that - this was the Real Macoy! As we reached London and gazed at it as it sparkled in the sun so far below, I felt as if I too were flying, unaided, over the greatest and most historic city in the world and I was awe-struck! There was Old Father Thames - winding and whirling its way through the city like a gigantic serpent. There was the Millenium dome (now the O2 Centre of course). There was St Paul's looking truly ravishing. There was Westminster Abbey and the Houses of Parliament and Tower Bridge - open - a spell-binding sight from above! There was Canary Wharf and the Gherkin.

Every so often, the earphones would emit a crackle and the pilot would point out some familiar landmark from this totally unfamiliar viewpoint, or one of we three passengers would gasp and point and a rushed exchange of comments would pass between us - four strangers united in this one powerful moment. It was probably the most amazing experience of my entire life. We were in the air for almost an hour! When we go back to the aerodrome, Hubby was there, taking photos as I dismbaked and ran into his arms - snapping away with is camera like a photographer possessed. I took lots of photos too which I showed him via the digital camera as we had lunch in the cafeteria. I kept saying "That was amazing!" and every time I did, his face lit up with that lovely sunny smile of his. He had given me another thing I'd never had before and I once again thanked my lucky stars for him.

The Rock & Roll tour is next and I hope he enjoys that as much as I enjoyed seeing London from the sky.

And - if I ever learn how to do it, I will post photos of both on here for you to share!

The whole experience still astonishes me even as I tap away at my laptop and write this blog. I can't think of a single funny thing to say! I just want to go back and do it all again!!!!!!! It was absoluely incredible.

UNWELL GIRL

2008-05-28T10:27:00.000-07:00

I have been horribly and pathetically ill since Tuesday last week. I have neuralgia - and for those of you not familiar with the phrase, it is some kind of complaint whereby all the nerve-endings on one side of your face and head become acutely sensitive - which leads to unbelievable pain, I have to tell you. I noticed my teeth on the left side of my face were terribly sensitive when I woke up last Tuesday but by the end of the day that had spread to my jawline, my ear, even that side of my scalp. I finally got a doctor's appointment last Thursday and she confirmed it and said I also have swollen glands and a throat infection and she put me on penacillin and some strong tablets specifically to calm nerve-endings.

Had Grand-daughter and Youngest Grandson overnight Friday. Their mum and dad offered to cancel as soon as they saw my pain-racked face but I insisted the children stay as they would be a distraction to my growing misery. And they were. Youngest Grandson awoke at 1.30 am on Saturday full of the joys of spring, wanting only to coo and kick and play and would not settle down again until I took him into bed with me (I know the baby books forbid this but I was shattered and I knew he would be if he didn't get back to sleep) and he went out like a light in ten seconds flat.

On Saturday, we took them into Croydon. Grand-daughter had expressly requested a tram-ride and a trip to the cafe to share a cake with Grandad, and who were we middle-aged fogies to disagree. We started out at Nero's in George Street and she utterly delighted in having half of Grandad's chcoolate muffin, then we progressed to North End where she cadged a ride in the Barbie car on the roundabout set up there with one flash of her big blue eyes. Then she was given a sticker by a clown and then she fell asleep. Youngest Grandson had slept most of the morning anyway in their two-tiered buggy. After lunch we took them home and Youngest Step-daughter collected them a few hours later. As usual, once they had gone, our cosy homestead became, for a couple of hours anyway, a desolate wilderness of hush, still with their toys scattered about.

Around eight o'clock, the neuralgia hit me full force and at nine pm, Hubby woke me up from my slumber on the sofa and suggested I go to bed. I then slept twenty out of the next twenty-four hours. I was in dire pain all day Sunday (what I remember of it!) and all day Monday and knew as soon as I got up Tuesday that I was in no fit state to go to work. Finally I went back to the doctor today and she has signed me off for the rest of the week. There is an area about 2cm by 1cm on my left cheek that is swollen and inflamed and, although the pain has gone off quite a bit and my teeth are now functioning almost normally again, I know I am still not a hundred per cent. I am feeling a lot better though so Hubby snapped his fingers about 4pm this afternoon and said with tons of passion "Tomorrow you can write all day! It'll be good practice for when you can write full time. " So tomorrow, it looks like I'll be writing all day. Maybe I can even breathe life into The New Idea - it is surely far too good to keep simmering on the back burner.

NEW BEGINNINGS

2008-05-18T11:57:00.000-07:00

So - better luck this time. It is Sunday evening, 18 May at GMT 20.00 hours. I am sitting at our dining table right beside the French Windows, overlooking the patio and the garden beyond. I would like to say that the French Windows are open and the curtains are waving lazily in a warm summer breeze - but I'd be lying. It IS a nice evening. But that doesn't mean it is a warm evening, so the windows remain firmly shut.

Two weeks ago, Hubby and I ambled up to Lincolnsire to spend the Bank Holiday weekend with Hubby's brother and partner. They live about a mile outside the historic marketing town of Spalding in a detached house surrounded by fields. The house is beautiful - all dorma windows and shrubs. The nearest neighbouring house is two hundred yards away and a shallow dyke shields the house from a link road - which at times is fairly busy. Upon arrival, Hubby and I - plus Hubby's parents - were taken on a tour of the house. There are four bedrooms and each room is en-suite and there is a family bathroom on the ground floor. The main living room is lovely and airy and in an 'L' shape and the back garden is laid to lawn and framed in trees. Through a rustic gate at the rear of the garden lies The Lodge Cattery. Talk about Butlins for cats! Each 'lodge' has a play area, a snooze area and a rear 'bedroom'. There are places for the cats to climb, to scratch, to generally exercise and the radio is on all day and most of the night, so they don't feel too cut off from their normal lives. The lodges overlook a large spacious courtyard and to one end of this is the Feline Kitchen. Opposite them is an array of hutches for smaller boarding guests - such as rabbits, guinea pigs and chipmunks - plus a chicken house and a lovely wooden summer house that has been transformed into an office, where Brother In Law tends to all the business aspects, whilst His Other Half oversees the feeding, grooming and wellbeing of the guests. She also administers any medication so her former career as a nurse comes very useful. It really is a lovely place and we were there from Saturday evening to Monday afternoon. So quiet and restful. I am sure the cats must lreally enjoy it and there is certainly no shortage of love there. I'd love it if I were a cat!

On Monday, back at Current Company, I made no secret of the fact I had an interview lined up on the Wednesday coming and was equally as forceful on Thursday when I told them it had gone well. So well, in fact, the I was told a second interview could be on the cards. "What hours then?" asked Newish MD after almost choking on his felicitations at just how well it had gone. "Full time," I replied. "If you want full time, we can give you that," he blurted out. Now just one cotton-picking minute, I thought as I looked at him. How can they be thinking of offering me a full time post now when just a fortnight before they were as good as dispensing with my services? Turns out they want to take the company into a new age and would like to expand on the Customer Support Role they'd initially offered on a part-time basis. "I thought you only offered me part time because that's all you could afford," I remarked suspiciously. "No we offered you part time because that's what we thought you wanted," said Newish MD. A series of meetings followed at the same time as much discussion between Hubby and I. They have offered me; a better general package, a bonus scheme AND they have agreed to accommodate any writing commitments that arise as a result of Books 2 and 3 hitting the maket over the next year or so.

Well what could I say? By Monday just gone I hadn't heard from the place I'd been interviewed and nothing else was on the cards, so I decided to take up their offer - as soon as I had it in writing. I got the official letter on Friday last week so I am now re-employed. I have already been moved to a different office and that's that. I don't suppose we'll know whether or not it has actually panned out until we've given it a few weeks and - as everyone has said - there is absolutely nothing to stop me from leaving later in the year if it all goes to pot, is there? And the best thing is that they are prepared to honour any writing commitments - so now I can start contacting the schools and the bookshops without having to worry about using up holiday!

It is funny the way things work out don't you think? All I have to do now is get some proper Work lined up - a commission or two, a couple of talks and maybe some workshops. I am also playing with a Brand New Idea. Not the historic novel as yet - that remains ongoing. But I have been bandying this idea around for a new weekly column somewhere if I can persuade an editor to try it out. I won't say too much here, but I promise I will keep you updated. If I can pull it off, it could lead to all kinds of things - so watch this space.....

!@*#ING IDIOT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2008-05-14T11:39:00.000-07:00

You just will not BELIEVE what I have just done, Blogspot Buddies! I have just spent best part of half an hour writing a light, chatty, informative blog about our lovely Bank Holiday weekend in Lincolnshire at Brother-In-Law's cattery - and concluding with an update of the Job Situation ... then accidently hit the wrong button and deleted the lot! I am such a Klutz. I was dead chuffed with it, too, and now it has vanished - all my hard work gone in the stroke of a button.

Ah well - I will have to do it all again.

But it can wait now.

I'm off to boil my head in the steamer ....

LOOKING FOR A WAY OUT

2008-05-07T12:41:00.000-07:00

On my way home from work this evening, I counted no less than five abandoned pens lying in the street. Being me, my immediate thought - as a writer - was "Are they trying to tell me something?" One of them was really nice and must have cost a fortune new - all silver scrolling and gold edging - but I couldn't reach it so I was not able to rescue it. I have never seen that many pens lining my route home before, so of course I was reading all kinds of secret codes and signs into it! What do you think?

So here is the latest. I went to the doctor on Friday and asked if these tests are absolutely necessary. Had she seen something in my blood tests that she hadn't told me about? Was there actually a reason, other than the fact I am ever so slightly anaemic? She answered no on both counts. So why did she feel these tests were so important? She said that there is nothing wrong, and no, the tests aren't that important. So why then had she felt such a drastic step should be taken? Only because - and I quote - "You are young; you have never been anaemic before and I like to consider every option." Now I am all for doctors and health professionals being thorough, but I still felt she was being over-cautious. So I suggested a compromise. Could we try a course of iron tablets for a few months then get some more blood tests done? If she isn't happy with them and my blood count is still low, then I'll go for any further tests she deems necessary. She agreed. So I have got three months until I need to worry about it again.

I walked out of that surgery feeling as if I have achieved something for mankind. A huge weight was lifted from my shoulders. She may like to consider every option, but I know my body better than she does, and I know there is nothing wrong with me. Everything is functioning normally; I just need to get my blood count up - end of story. So if your doctor ever suggests something you really don't feel necessary, Blogspot Buddies, say so. Patient Power!

And now onto the other blight of my life - the redundancy/recinded-redundancy/redundancy issue. I am being worked on my several experts who all feel I should stay; Chairman is popping his head round the door every five minutes and smiling broadly. Newish MD keeps reminding me I am in the strongest position I have ever been in with that company. And Friendly Colleagues all keep peering at me doe-eyed and saying "What will we do when you've gone?" The truth of the matter is that I have insider knowledge of Former Line Manager's customer database and they are anxious not to lose any following his resignation. Technically I am still under notice and my finishing date is still 16th May. I will not be pushed into making a decision.
Consequently, I went for an interview this morning and think it all went rather well. Admittedly it is full time as opposed to part-tme - so the writing will still be designated to the evenings and weekends - but at least our income won't suffer. I was told as I left the interview that someone will be in touch to let me know whether or not I go onto the second one. And they know I have had this offer from Current Company so they know they have to move fast. We shall just have to wait and see. I know they were inundated with replies so I won't hold my breath. But it was nice to be made to feel I have something to offer still - besides Former Line Manager' s sodding customer database!

Watch this space for the further exiting episode of FIFTY & NOT OUT (produced live in front of a Blogging audience).

SO NOW WHAT...?

2008-04-30T13:44:00.000-07:00

Hi girls and boys. You just will not believe what has happened since my last blog. Honestly - if someone wrote my life as a book, no-one would publish it because everyone would be saying "But that kind of stuff never happens in real life!" Want to bet? Okay. So a quick recap of the last blog - Monday - find out redundancy is on. Tuesday - go to hospital to see consultant and get told camera down throat ( and in at the other end as it turns out) is inevitable. Here then - is the next episode.

Last Saturday, I received a letter from the hospital telling me I am booked in for the test on 15th May. Was shocked to learn colonoscopy is also on the cards and consequently went into deep depression (again - is being manic depressive all part of being a writer?). It ruined the weekend which was a shame because Hubby and I went down to Middle Sister's for a family tea on Saturday and I was too out-of-it to really enjoy it. Anyway, along came Monday and off I toddled to the office (like Shakespeare's schoolboy 'creeping like a snail, unwilling to school') and the guy I have been PA to said "Let's go out for a coffee and a Danish." As we were sipping our cappacinos he apologised to me for the way the company have handled the redundancy. He knew it was on the cards way back in December but had been told not to tell me. In the next breath he told me he would be resigning that day and I was the first to know. By mid-afternoon, he was gone and everyone was gobsmacked - mostly the Newish MD who walked around looking like a shell-shocked soldier for the rest of the day.

On Monday evening, Youngest Sister called. She was very worried about me, said I was not my usual self on Saturday and had lost all my sparkle. She convinced me I should make an appointment at the doctor's to find out why the endoscopy/colonoscopy thing is deemed necessary when my only symptom has been the anaemia - surely the sensible thing would be to try me on iron tablets first and see if they made a difference rather than subjecting me to the two horrible tests. I rang the doctor on Tuesday and got booked in for this Friday, so I will go armed with a list of questions.

Five minutes after getting to work, yesterday, Newish MD came into my little cubby hole. I knew, as soon as he shut the door, that he was going to lay something heavy on me. With my line manager now gone, they thought they had a new role for me. Would I be interested in heading up the new Customer Services department? Chairman walked in an hour later and reiterated how desperately they now need me to stay. What would it take, they wanted to know, to achieve that? By yesterday evening, I had a written proposal in my hand which I took home to show Hubby and discuss with him. Basically it would mean working the three and a half days a week I originally suggested months and months ago. The salary would drop but there would be the prospect of bonuses which would - theoretically - more or less make up for the shortfall.

Since all I have managed to line up is one interview and there is no guarantee I will get offered the job, Hubby thinks I should accept their offer and use it until something more suitable comes along - that way I don't actually wind up jobless for any length of time. Chairman has been with me most of today tying to persuade me to stay and he is prepared to be as flexible as I like.
I'd like to actually tell them to stuff it because only last week I was told they didn't need me and now they begging me to stay. But realistically, the offer they have made consists of of a pretty good package which I probably would be a bit daft not to at least try out.

Now - dear Blogspot Buddy - add to all that the fact that Sarah the Publisher called me yesterday to say they may have to suspend the second Yuck book indefinitely because Ashley the Illustrator has let us down big time and not come forth with any further illustrations - I will perhaps be forgiven for feeling that The World And His Wife Are All Out To Get Me - what was it Kenneth williams shouted in Carry On Ceasar? "Infamy. Infamy. They've All got It in For Me."

I know just how he feels!!!!!!

HERE I GO AGAIN ...

2008-04-22T12:22:00.000-07:00

It pains me to relate, Blogspot Buddies, that the unhappy rumblings mentioned last week have become ear-shatteringly horrid thunderclaps of reality! I am being made redundant. I was not altogether surprised yesterday when the newish MD came into my office at quarter to five and said "I am really sorry, but I am going to have to let you go." In a way it took the decision out of my hands. Now I really have to find another job, I have no choice. My official leaving date is 16th May and my golden handshake consists of three weeks pay and any holiday I am entitled to up to and including this month. If I am lucky I may come out of it with a day or two extra but I am not holding my breath.

It was so weird that I was so utterly calm all the way home. Two minutes inside my front door, though, I blurted the news out to Hubby and promptly burst into a shock of tears - completely taking myself by surprise! Hubby wrapped his arms round me and said sweet things like "It's not your fault." and "We will get through this." and "It isn't the end of the world." I mean is he a darling or what?

Actually as luck would have it I was already in the process of completing an application form for what could be the most pefect job in the world for a Writer-On-The-Brink like me. Seven days on, seven days off with four of the seven on being mornings only and not one day finishing after 5 pm or so. The trouble is of course that jobs like that are so rare that it is odds on they are going to be inundated with replies. My one edge is that I worked there before - in a different capacity - but long enough to know where they are coming from. Anyway, I have posted the application form off (via the franking machine at the office - I might as well take 'em for every penny) today and the closing date is Friday so we will just have to wait and see. Hubby had a word with his manager last night who told him that, if things get desperate, they'd get me in there, somehow, even if it was only as a stop-gap until I've found my feet - or my ideal job, of course.

What really gets me the most is that this is the second time in three years that I have been made redundant. Honest - was it something I said? Or does the British workforce just have no time for middle-aged ladies? Losing the current job is no skin off my nose - I haven't been happy there for at least six months (as you all know) and, anyway, it's their loss. The real crux of the matter is the nagging feeling that, despite age legislation and everything else, middle aged people - and in particular women - just aren't wanted anymore. Sad really. Especially since I still feel more than capable. I don't think I am over the hill yet. We will just have to wait and see what happens now. If I can get some writing done during the interim period, all well and good. I know I am too good to waste! I will keep you updated. If it all gets too much you can always switch me off and go and make a nice cup of tea!

I had a hospital appointment today ( I know - it never bloody rains but it always bloody pours). My doctor is worried by the fact I am anaemic - and have been for over six months. Evidently, my blood count is 11 when the average is 12 (11 what? 12 what?) and they are exploring all the options - including the fact I am vegetarian (I haven't eaten red meat in at least fifteen years and only had chicken once when there was no choice on the menu - that was in Paris so I blame the French). I do eat tuna at least once a week and salmon once in a blue moon but that's it. The other option could be Polyps (what-yps? Do doctors speak plain simple English anymore?) Everyone is saying what might be at the root of it, but not why or how! As I just said to Bro in Denmark, doctors seem to think that everybody has a degree in medical teminology. I have been told I have to go for an endoscopy in a few weeks. I kind of know what one of them is and I am dreading it already. I am sure I will think I am choking to death, despite being told I'd be sedated. Hubby said "You probably won't know anything about it." When the consultant mentioned the procedure I just said "Why have I got to have that? I am just a bit anaemic. There is nothing else wrong with me. I feel fine." He looked quite uncomfortable under my accusing gaze. He shrugged and said "It is the only way we can find out." I said "But why? Find out what?" He just said unhelpfully "It is a standard procedure." I gave up at that point. Even when you ask you don't get answers, so why ask?

Oh well - big sigh - such is life.

WHAT'S A WRITER TO DO?

2008-04-16T23:37:00.000-07:00

I really don't get it. How come I have to have a major clear-out every few months just so I can get into my study and write? I filled a huge black sack with unwanted rubbish a couple of evenings ago and produced a bin and a half full of shredded letters, receipts, circulars - all of which had mysteriously accumilated in my little sanctuary of creation without my knowledge. Having made it a safe and clear space again, my intention last night was to go in and write, write, write. So why did I spend the evening watching Tom Hanks in Castaway on BBC 3? Okay - so it just happens to be one of my favorite films and he just happens to be (in my humble opinion) one of the world's most talented and enduring character actors (and a personal favorite of mine I have to admit). But I have the DVD sitting up on the shelf, so why watch it on TV?. Curiouser and curiouser, said Alice.

I think it is actually because I am a little bit out on a limb just now. The third and final Yuck book is finished and with Sarah the Publisher and the second in the series is almost complete - I saw the cover art last week by Ashley the Illustrator and it all made it kind of real. It looks as if the second one will be published this autumn and the third one next year some time. All exciting stuff. But of course now the series is written, what do I do next? I don't have an actual project - just about a million and a half ideas. I went to the London Book Fair with Hubby on Tuesday in search of inspiration. I think I overdosed on it. I couldn't help it! There were new books and publishers' catalogues and publicists and fellow writers at every turn and I came away fired up - so fired up in fact that I am still smouldering with exhileration.

I guess now would be the right time to stand back and take stock of things really. I am still in my utterly thankless PA job - I never dreamt in January that I would still be looking for a new job come mid-April - with no sign of change even on the horizon. I still desperately need Time to go out and publicise the Yucketypoo series properly. On top of all that, another publisher has asked for the first three chapters of my historic novel - which I haven't even started yet ( I did not expect such a fast response from them when I emailed last week to ask if they would be interested in it) and there are slow uneasy rumblings within the company where I am working where words such as 'cut-backs' and 'redundancy' are making distant (but palpable) unhappy echos. I haven't mentioned this to Hubby yet as rumblings they still are, and I know he would only start to panic.

So what's a writer to do? At least I am no longer in the depths of despair. I am in turmoil for other reasons. So. Do I start the historic novel? Do I get back to my poetry (which is my real purpose of being)? Do I take the first job that comes along per chance the unhappy rumblings become reality?
Or do I just wait and see what transpires? Any ideas? Or commissions?

Answers on a postcard please...

ANOTHER WEDDING.

2008-04-08T12:31:00.000-07:00

We had the most brilliant weekend up in Peterborough! Eldest Stepdaughter married her long time partner with Grand-daughter as the most miniscule and perfectly beautiful Flower Girl you can imagine and Eldest Grandson just the most perfect Best Man! Considering the entire country was under threat of being seiged by snow, we were incredibly lucky. It only rained once and that was between the ceremony and the reception and there was no snow until the following day. It was just so wonderful seeing Eldest Stepdaughter looking so happy. And Laid-Back Son-in-Law (as he shall henceforth be known) just so utterly chuffed - as if Life had handed him a whole bowl of cherries - which I suppose in a way it had. Or a lottery win of some significance. Hubby held up very well. He wept buckets when Eldest Stepdaughter married the first time round. Not tears of sorrow, I hasten to add, but tears of downright pride and joy. Then, when Youngest Stepdaughter married some years later, he stole the show during the speeches and had 'em rolling in he aisles. He was, quite rightly I felt, at complete liberty to feel so proud of himself.

It fell to Granny - ie. me - to keep Youngest Grandson happy throughout the ceremony. He only began to build up to a howl once so I deftly walked him to the back of the Registry Office and back which was enough to send him into little coos of appreciation as he smiled and gurgled up at me for the rest of the service. In fact I think we bonded somewhat as he seemed quite content just to lay there in my arms. For a three month old, he is very expressive, I must say. After the service, we all head back to the house for light refreshment and a couple of hours later went along to a quaint little contry pub where they had hired a private annexe for the Wedding Breakfast. It was a lovely meal, much highlighted when Eldest Grandson clinked a glass and proposed his first ever toast "To my mum and Mark for getting married. Congratulations." Short, sweet, precise and a huge step forward into manhood for him. We gave him a standing ovation because he is usually so shy. The meal itself was divine, with plenty of choices (even for a Veggie like me), good food, good drink and very good company. Grand-daughter kept us all entertained with her dancing afterward. She just loves music and has a surprisingly well-developed sense of rhytmn for one so young. It all went very well with the party breaking up aound 11pm. Eldest Stepdaughter and Laid-Back-Son-In-Law went off to their hotel for the night and the rest of us piled back to the house exhausted but happy. At lunch time the next day, Hubby and I had to head home ourselves as he was due at work that evening.

It really could not have gone better and Clever-Son-In-Law (who else) had been roped in to be the official photographer. Is there nothing technical that man can't master? He took to the role like a duck to water and took almost 300 pictures over the course of the weekend; all on a digital camera he'd borrowed from a friend and had only a few days to get to grips with.

I think that's it wedding-wise till next year now. Last year we went to six of them so I guess it is no surprise we've only had the two this year.

I'll be back in a few days with a writing update I promise.

AN HOUR, AN HOUR, MY BREAKFAST FOR AN HOUR!!!

2008-04-01T12:51:00.000-07:00

Hubby and I went to a wedding reception on Saturday night. It was an old chum of mine from my days as a Nursery Nurse and, despite the fact it was in Wimbledon which is no more than five or so miles away, Hubby and I decided to book ourselves into a hotel so that we would not have to worry about getting home; neither of us drive and it would have meant having to catch a tram and then another tram and then a ten minute walk so we thought, what the heck, why not? We got there around four in the afternoon. It was a converted family house at the end of a quiet residential street and we had Room A, which is a family room on the ground floor. We were made very welcome and given our key and we were glad to get in and unpack our suits for the evening.

The first thing Hubby did was grab the TV remote to see if he could get to the football results and the first thing I did was bounce up an down on the springy bed like an infant on holiday. Then we made use of the hospitality tray and had a coffee then I had a good look round. It may have been a small family hotel, but the proprietors had gone to great lengths to make it feel like The Ritz (and of course I went for tea at The Ritz not so long ago so I speak from experience). Pure white towels - a pile of three in varying sizes - adorned both corners at the end of the bed and the room was tastefully decorated in pale green and magnolia, with heavy drapes that matched the heavy quilt and the two cushiony parlor chairs, which stood, one each side, of a perfectly polished little oval table. There was also a single bed against one wall with a dorma bed beneath that and I think it would have quite comfortably accommodated a family of four without any problems at all.

After showers and getting changed, we headed off into Wimbledon Village fo something to eat and had a nice meal at Pizza Express, then we headed off to the reception via a Black Cab from Wimbledon Station. As soon as I mentioned our destination to the driver my confidence faded a tad. "Wimbledon Park Golf Club, please," I said, adding when I saw his tremor of panic "Home Park Road?" "Ah, Home Park Road, yes of course," he said with some kind of accent - Polish possibly - and Hubby and I clambered in. We arrived in Home Park Road and the taxi driver slowed down as he searched for anything that resembled a golf club. He finally stopped outside a pair of wrought iron gates and we got out. It was raining quite heavily by now and when we tried the gates we couldn't open them. "Maybe there's another gate further along?" I suggested. A minute or so later we found some more gates to a car park but we couldn't get through them either. As we wandered back towards the first set of gates, a car pulled up beside us and an anxious -faced woman popped her head out. "Are you looking for the reception?" I asked. She nodded. "We think it's over there but we can't get in," we told her.

Back at the frst gates, we pressed the security buzzer and nothing happened. Luckily for us some kichen workers came out with several bags of rubbish so we asked them. "How do we get to the wedding reception?" One of them nodded and input a security code. Hey presto - the gates opened like magic and we went towards the club house; accompanied by the anxious faced woman and her companions. We went straight into a bar which was next to a big empty room where a live band were setting up and we ordered drinks. We still didn't know if we were in the right place for the right reception but two Budweisers later I ran into Kirsty - the blushing bride - who was sitting in the cloak room feeding her little daughter a bottle of formula. We were really pleased to see each other and her mum was there, too, who I also know quite well, so there were hugs and kisses all round. "I found Kirsty," I told Hubby when I got back to the bar. "So we are in the right place!"

It was a very nice evening all told. We didn't know anyone else so we just kind of hovered but we did get to speak to Neil, the handsome groom (who looked very dashing in his tails, I must admit) and I took a couple of photos of their first dance and the wedding cake, but that was about it. The place was thronging with people and there was hardly room to move sometimes, but the atmosphere was nice. By eleven o'clock, though, we'd really had enough. We said cheerio to the happy couple and the bride's mum and went back out to the rain. Half an our later we were still trying to find our way back into town and my new shoes were becoming decidedly uncomfortable. Suddenly, Hubby bolted across the road, waving his arms frantically and I wondered uneasily if he'd had one vodka and diet coke too many. As it turned out he'd spotted another black cab so we got in and arrived back at the hotel five minutes later, exhausted, wet and tired.

Just before we settled down for the night, I put our watches and the little travel alarm clock we'd taken along (well we didn't want to miss breakfast, after all we'd paid for it!) forward one hour and then we went to sleep. It was an odd kind of night though. The room was black as black can be and the only way you could use the loo was by turning on the bathroom light which also activated a rather noisy air extractor, and the quilt just got heavier and heavier as the night went on. We were both going from pleasantly warm to boilng hot to freezing cold after kicking off the covers in the space of five minutes, but we did manage to sleep reasonably well. When the alarm went off at 7.30 the next day, we knew we had an hour in which to shower and dress before the dining room would open for breakfast and finally, at around 8.40, we decided we'd waited long enough. We went to the dining room and turned the door handle - it was locked! "Let's give it ten minutes or so," said Hubby. Ten minutes later, we tried again. It was still locked. "I hope they didn't forget to put their clocks forward," I remarked. Another guest appeared and tried the door. It was ten to nine by then and the door was still locked. "Errmmmm..." said Hubby and just then the door opened a crack. A sleepy face peered out. "Dining room opens at eight thirty," the disheveled young lady told us huskily. "But it's ten to nine!" we protested. "The clocks went forward didn't they?" There was a moment of silence as it slowly dawned on our young hostess. "I thought that was tonight," she said in cold terror. "No it was two o'clock this morning!" said Hubby. "I am really sorry," she said, suddenly awake and flustered. "But it'll be half an hour before I can open up because I need to cook." The door snapped shut and we looked at each other. "Let's go and get a paper," said Hubby as we pulled on our coats. So we wandered into the towncentre, via Starbucks (naturally), bought a paper and sat down to breakfast at the hotel almost an hour later than we should have.

Ah well, never mind. What's an hour between friends? It was still a nice hotel and still a good weekend. I just hope we aren't staying there when the clocks go back, that's all!!!!!!

SO I GUESS I'M A WRITER ...

2008-03-21T12:20:00.000-07:00

What a crazy crazy week I have had! Talk about Highs & Lows, Swings & Roundabouts, Ups and Downs! Half the time I haven't known if I am over here or over there. I have been so disconnected from myself most of the week that even people I know are saying thngs like "You look lost." How right they are - I have never been so lost! I suppose it started on Tuesday when the phone bill came in. That, like the gas, elecricity, water and Council Tax, is higher this year than it was last year. Hubby is working all the overtime he can get but we still never seem to have enough money. This has made me see that the likelyhood of me changing jobs and reducing my hours this year is feasibly zilch. And with that realisation came the full force of complete dispondency, which metaphorically plunged me into the most despairingly bleak depression it is possible to go and still retain an element of humanity. I lost my appetite, all I wanted to do was sleep. And sleep. And sleep. And I didn't care, that is the really scary thing. I didn't care. I do remember one thought ringing in my mind over and over again, though. It was this: If I can't give it everything, I can't give it anything. My writing career had shuddered to a halt and was effectively over. The new Yuck book was abandoned. I steered clear of my blog and my journal. I went onto the WW site to say goodbye to everyone and resign, I was that serious. But when I got there, guess what I found? It was the interview I gave to WW some time ago about my writing. It was at the top of the home page and it came out and hit me with so much force I almost reeled from it. Not only the interview - but comments from fellow members, all telling me how inspiring they'd found it. It moved me to silent tears, I can tell you.

So of course my writing career isn't over. And with that inkling of hope came a fresh burst of energy. I scrapped all three of the Yuck 3 drafts because they were all completely wrong. But the fourth and most perfect one flowed from my pen inside an hour and it is this one that I shall email over to Sarah the Publisher on Sunday. Then a letter arrived from Hubby's Aunt Amy - a very private lady - especially for me, congratulating me on the publication of the first Yuck! I have, she tells me, joined the ranks of successful family writers since three of her children are all published authors - a fact I never knew (and I am not sure Hubby did either!). And tonight an email from Sarah the Publisher. Yucketypoo is being considered for a board game and would I please click on the link to the manufacturers to get a feel of it. So, sweet, loyal, supportive Blog Buddies, what is all this telling me do you think? Is this just another exceedingly high point on life's rollercoaster? Will I ride it a while before it goes into yet another rapid decline? Will there ever be ink in my pen again? Or will there be further blots on the future? Who can know? And how long should one wait to find out, I wonder ........

CLEVER EDDIE ...

2008-03-12T01:23:00.000-07:00

Does anyone remember my blog for 3rd October last year when Hubby and I returned from the beautiful Outer Hebredes? One of the characters I mentioned was our driver and tour guide Eddie with whom I'd struck up a particular friendship because we are both writers who were on the verge of having our first book published. I mention this today because, when I got home last night, Hubby was beaming at me. "There's a lovely surprise there for you," he said. "I like surprises!" I responded and looked. It took a moment but then I exclaimed in wonder, "It's Eddie's book!" And it was - a beautifully illustrated story book produced in the way of the old fashioned children's books, with the text wrapped in luscious full colour illustrations and stories and poems like the kind I had read to me as a little girl. And on the back cover is the review I wrote after Eddie showed me the draft copies back in October! There was a lovely letter with it, addressed to both Hubby and I, and the last thing he says in it is "I hope everything is going well for your book."

I am so chuffed! I didn't mention it on 3rd October but for quite a lot of the two weeks of our tour, Eddie and I spent a number of coffee stops discussing our books. I had already self-published a number of poetry books for children (copies available - just give me a call) which had sold well on a local scale, but I had never attempted anything nearly so ambitious as Eddie, and I am just so pleased that he achieved his dream! I will of course, return the favor and said him a copy of Yucketypoo because he was with me when I got a call from Sarah the Publisher to say that a women's magazine with a circulation of 75, 000 were going to run a feature on it in time for Christmas.

I think I need to circulate with more writers. We feed off one another so well and the mutual support is always there. This is one of the reasons that I love belonging to the WriteWords community - and possibly why I always get a reply from any other writers I contact from time to time.

As for Eddie and his "Grandad's Tales" - all the best to him. And if you know any children under eight who'd appreciate comfortable, old-fashioned, yet completely original bedtime stories, get in touch and I'll tell you how you can obtain a copy at the price of £5.99.

Have a good day.

A FIVER'S WORTH OF LUCK?

2008-03-05T00:12:00.000-08:00

How was your Mother's Day? Middle and Youngest Sisters and I - plus the three youngest nephews - gathered at Mother's on Sunday afternoon for a Family Tea. Husbands three were all working and unable to make it (well, that was their story!) - but it was actually really nice - just the four of us (the three boys ran about like bombs on legs all afternoon, howling, giggling and squealing)enjoying each other's company. We sat round Mother's little kitchen table, picking at the giganticus buffet Mother had put on (despite being told not to and that we'd all bring a contribution) which concluded with a spoon a piece diving into the chocolate gateaux - and oh, it was scrummy! It made a pleasant change and Mother enjoyed it which was the main thing - although she did complain a bit about the amount of food left over (her fault entirely, she should have just let us bring our contributions!) - and the gateaux was to die for, so who's complaining?

On my way into the office yesterday morning, I looked down and spotted a perfectly healthy five pound note lying on the ground. No-one else had seen it and certainly no-one was looking for it so I picked it up and put it in my pocket. I am aware there is a moral dillema here - was I right to keep it? Or should I have handed it in at the police station? Or - having found it - was I morally obliged to give it to charity? Will I burn in hell for buying two cups of coffee with it? Answers on a postcard please ...

In truth that little fiver made me smile because finding it made me feel as if someone else was smiling at me. And it boosted my morale (if not my morals) because I have been going through a major identity crisis the past few days. I think this is because my working life and writing life are coverging into one gigantic unmanageable monster. I need 48 hours in every 24 - and it just isn't going to happen. Yesterday, for example, I worked all day then went home and worked on the new book for nearly three hours. I know millions of other writers have to do the same thing - but, boy is it tiring or what? And tonight will be the same. So much for me finding a part time job! There just aren't that many about and what there is gets snapped up in the blink of an eye. It is very draining, all this! But I will manage somehow. Why? Because fate handed me a five pound note when I least expected it, that's why. At least that is what I am telling myself.

I am sneakily finishing this post during a quiet five minutes at work. In approximately thirty minutes I am going out to meet Mother for lunch - she has made a full recovery by the way - and she has insisted that she will pay today and I am going to let her - as I do once in a blue moon - because she seems to like being able to occasionally.

So I am going to sign off for now. Have a good afternoon one and all!

DER SPRING IS SPRUNG ....

2008-02-26T13:06:00.001-08:00

Decided to give my blog a makeover this evening. Since my books are environment-related, I thought this blue/green theme was more approproiate. What say you?

I am feeling better today. I don't like feeling down in the dumps; it really doesn't suit my personality. I have always been the optomist, always the one to find the silver lining and bouy people up - I have done it since I was eleven years old. It feels very alien to me to be so down and it is always a blessing when the mood lifts and I find my smile and sparkle again! I'd like to thank you for your support by the way; you will never know how much it helped to pull me out of the dark clouds in which I had ensconced myself!

I went for a nice long walk the other day. It was one of those glitteringly bright afernoons, with the sun casting a golden glow over the grass and trees. I saw my first blossoms of the spring - so beautiful. And there were a pair of tiny blue tits dancing round the bird feeder yesterday, which was gorgeous. But the most amazing thing I have seen of late is the incredible sunset that painted the world a soft peachy hue the other evening! It was so radiant that the tree-trunks turned a rich red and the sky was a venerable pallet of pinks, apricots, golden and pale yellow. I would have loved to photograph it but unfortunately that day, I didn't have my camera. It really was splendid and it touched my inner soul! Honestly, it had to be seen to be believed!

So what are my goals for this week? Obviously to get the third book finished. I think I might also make a point of reading some poetry during the evenings; it might light a spark. I really miss my poetry and it feels like such a long time since I wrote anything really worthwhile. Oh and I need to enter a competition this month; there are quite a few about, so I will have to decide which one I should go for.

And finally, I would like to thank you - just for being there!

HEAVY OF HEART

2008-02-19T12:33:00.000-08:00

I don't know why, but I am feeling decidely low in mood tonight. It has grown with me all day, like some nasty, festering boil. I don't know if it is because of my age. Or because I am so unhappy at work. Or because I just don't feel a hundred per cent. Or maybe even eternal optomists get fed-up from time to time? Does anyone else get days like that? Where it takes every ounce of willpower you possess to get out of bed and then you spend the entire day just getting more an more and more stressed out. It is very out of character for me to feel so sorry for myself but in fact I do feel sorry for myself, which is just pathetic.

It is quiet here in my study. Even the cat has deigned to stay down on the sofa, curled up like a monochromatic fluffy cushion - she reminds me of the great big dice that people sometimes hung in their front windscreens(that is going back a bit)when I was young and carefree and felt as if nothing could get in my way. Hubby left for work an hour ago. My brother, who lives in Denmark and who, I have just realised (to my shame), I have never mentioned before ("Bro, these are my Blogspot Buddies, Blogspot Buddies, this is Bro")lifted the mood enormously when we were on the phone half an hour ago. He is the only person in the entire world who can reduce me to a quivering, giggling heap in the space of two minutes and he did so with aplomb tonight! I was literally crying with laughter as he related struggles with his newly installed computer system that brings everything - even English sites - up in Danish and will not let him translate to his native tongue. Luckily, he has lived out there long enough to understand the rudiments of the language - both written and verbal - so I am sure he will cope. He just has this knack of hitting my laughter button and sometimes, when I am feeling like this, he is just the tonic I need!

I have got lots to do. Sarah the Publisher wants the first draft of the third book by 8th March. This will not be a problem. I am going to devote every night next week to getting it finished. She also wants the puzzles and factoids for the second book by the end of February. I have got these - I just need to finalise them and get the drafts over to her soon as poss. To be brutally frank, I will be quite relieved when the series is finished because I am desperate to start on something completely new. It has been a struggle because I never wrote the first book expecting there to be two sequels - if I had known, I may well have expanded the first book in the first place to accommodate them.

Now don't misunderstand me here. The Yucketypoo books have transformed my writing career - and my life - in a way I could never have imagined. I have not earned a penny from it as yet and because the publisher who took it on is small, there have been no big fat advances - no advances of any kind, to be honest, although they have ploughed a huge amount of cash into its production already. I could not possibly have foreseen when the two sequels were commissioned that the books would, of themselves, become a full time job.

That fact, bearing in mind that I also do a full time day job is, I think, what I am finding so completely draining. Which, in turn, lead to days like this when I feel tired, stressed and completely pissed off with everything. I slammed the phone down on the guy I am PA to this afternoon when what he'd called about was not his fault. I very (oh so very) nearly went AWOL at lunchtime because I could not face going back to that office. I grouched at some poor kid on the tram because his bag bumped my shoulder, I lost it with Hubby, who is the world's kindest, most supportive and patient hubby, over something so utterly trivial, I can't even remember what it was and I slammed the lid of my trusty laptop down in rage when I could not connect to the internet earlier. Add to all that the guilt I am now feeling (no wonder Cat chose to stay downstairs this evening, she probably figured she'd be safer) at being such a total Grump all day, and you will see exactly why eternal optomists really can become complete pessimists from time to time.

Oh well, I think that is enough moaning for today. I am very sorry, Dear Blogspot Buddy, if my ramblings have dulled your mood, this evening. Pray excuse the meanderings of a Post Menopausal fifty year old writer who should really (truth be known) know better!!!!

WONDERFUL NEWS!

2008-02-12T14:00:00.000-08:00

I came home to some luscious and truly exciting news this evening! I knew, as soon as I walked into the living room to see the glow on Hubby's face, that he was going to burst if he didn't tell me something at once. Eldest Step-daughter is getting married! Not only that but Eldest Stepdaughter is pregnant! And I suppose before I go any further that I ought to tell you a little bit more about my relationship with Hubby's two lovely girls.

Very briefly, I met them when they were ten and six (they are now both in their thirties) and Hubby introduced me to them as 'the lady who writes the stories'. This was a few months before we started going out together and he and his wife had already been separated for three years or so. He was raising the children with a huge amount of help and support from his parents and, luckily for me, I got on with both children from Day One. Consequently, I watched them grow, took them to school, helped them with homework, picked them up from school and watched their transition from beautiful children into beautiful young women, married women and finally mothers, and I love them both with all my heart.

Hubby and I knew each other for around seven months before we began to go out together and by the time we did, we were already good friends. We didn't get engaged for over ten years and it was another six before we got married. During that time Eldest Step-daughter had married and divorced and brought a lovely baby boy into the world - not in that order, I hasten to add - and met her soulmate. When the baby was twenty-four hours old, she handed him to me with the words "Say hello to your grandma." and I have been his granny ever since.

Never a day goes by when I don't thank God for my two step-daughters and the beautiful grandchildren they have given us. To find out that the eldest one is now marrying and expecting a new baby as well is just the best news and we are over the moon. The wedding is in April and the baby is due in August. Good news or what - even if it was the last thing I expected to hear today!

So there you go - I am about to become a granmaother for the fourth time. Not bad for a fifty year old post-menopausal old girl, wouldn't you agree?

Catch you soon.

A PRESENT TO MYSELF

2008-02-04T05:58:00.000-08:00

TUESDAY 5 JANUARY

I went out at lunch time yesterday with the prime directive of buying Hubby something nice for Valentine's Day. When we were in Bournemouth a couple of weeks back, we came across the most extraordinary chocolate shop called Hotel Chocolat, where the chocolates were probably the most expensive I have ever seen and young ladies were walking about in smart uniforms, giving people really nice free samples of their wares -I was offered a piece of 75% cocoa-mass chile chocolate and it was absolutely gorgeous! Whilst we were there, Hubby bought me a small toy dog with a Hotel Chocolat swag bag and told me it was for Valentine's Day, which was really sweet of him since we normally don't give one another anything more than a card for February 14th, and then treat ourselves to a nice meal out. But of course, I can't let him give me something without returning the compliment and I thought - Bingo! I'll get him the DVD of 'The 300' which we saw in the cinema about a year ago. Then, whilst wandering around HMV the other day in Croydon, we came across it as one of a Buy-Three deal - so that went out of the window because it was too good a deal to miss.

When I woke up yesterday morning I thought, I will nip out at lunch time today and get him something else and, dutifully, at 12.50, I hopped onto a tram and hopped off at Centrale. I wandered through Croydon looking at this and that then had the brainwave of looking in Smiths to see if there are any biographies he'd be most likely to read (as they are the only kind of books he will read). I was okay till I was almost leaving the shop. Having decided there was nothing suitable, I was just thinking of where else I could go when I spotted something which, on impulse, I bought. The only problem is that it is for me and not for Hubby! Personally, I blame W H Smith. They obviously hadn't stopped to consider that a writer could walk in and see the most delicious gift package entiled "My Story" and not be able to resist it. Basically it is just a gorgeous hard back book to write in - the cover of which has "My Story" scrolled across it in calligraphy and a sweet little paperback giving you tips on how to write your memoirs for posterity. It is not often I do something so unbelievably girlie. In our house the shopoholic is my husband! And it is now one less day until Valentines and I am no closer to buying something for him! I may have to have another go tomorrowe.

What I did finally manage to do yesterday evening was meet up with Illustrator Ashley for a quick conflab on the new book - or more specifically, the illustrations for it. It was very nice. We met straight after work in Caffe Nero's in George Street, had a hot drink, then spread our papers out across two tables and tossed a few ideas about. It was terribly bracing to be doing what writers do and forget for an hour that I still have to work as a PA. We came up with a few things and I am going to email Sarah the Publisher shortly and update her. Ashley the Illustrator has promised to have the cover artwork ready before 18th Feb which is when Sarah the Publisher wants it and I have come away inspired and fired up again. Watch this space for futher details.

Just quickly before I go, I just have to mention that we had a small Coming Out party last Saturday for Youngest Grandson. When we originally arranged it, Mother was going to attend, but she has been swept into deepest darkest Camberley to recuperate after her accident the other week and sent her apologies. It was probably better that way. I daren't think what would have happened if Grand-daughter had, in innocent joy, gone to leap onto her great Granny's lap and caught the injured shin with her toes. I have promised Mother we'll arrange another tea just for her when she is better. Middle Sister couldn't make it but Youngest Sister did and she brought along Lovely Brother-in-Law, 19-year old Neice and 10 year old Nephew. Everyone had cuddles with Grand-daughter and Youngest Grandson and 10 year old Nephew found himself very much the object of Grand-daughter's affections when she trailed around after him all afternoon and had him rolling around the floor like a two year old himself! It was really nice and Youngest Grandson was on his very best behaviour.

I think that's it for now so I better go - stuff to do. Catch you next time. Hopefully with a present for Hubby to tell you about!

ITCHING

2008-01-31T05:18:00.000-08:00

Hello one and all. Pleased to tell you that my mum is okay after her accident. She has got a long way to go before she completely recovers but she is getting there. Super Aunt is taking her home to Camberley next week to help her recuperate and I am sure she'll be fine, but it was a scare, there is no doubt about that!

So here it is - the great writing update. I am starting to pick up my pen again. I just seemed to lose my way in the word maze for a few weeks and I have been struggling to focus on anything. Today however, I have managed to enter two poems for children for a competition and uploaded another to WriteWords which is the best writer's site I have ever come across. It is my intention - misguided or not - to enter at least one competition every month this year. I know the books are keeping me busy but I need to keep my finger in as many other pies as possible. On Monday this week, I was chuffed to receive six copies of the first book through the post and I am hearing that more and more people are ordering it - one school has ordered 18 copies for their library - which is terrific. The second book is written and just needs finalising. I have been trying to see Ashley the Illustrator ever since Christmas and finally confirmed a meeting with him straight from work last Thursday - which I then had to cancel because of a certain person's fight with a bus forty times bigger than she is! I have been ringing and texting him all week but he hasn't come back to me yet so I shall just have to persist. Sarah the Publisher wants the cover artwork for the second book by mid-February so I have got no choice, I shall have to persist. I actually got an email from Amazon the other morning, asking me if I wanted to pre-order the second book due for publication on 8 September; which is somewhat surprising news to me that's very welcome at the same time.

Sarah the Publisher did say she wants some puzzles and Factoids to appear at the back of the second book and I am delighted to announce that I have succeeded in producing a wordsearch puzzle suitable for 5 - 7 year olds after the nth attempt, so it's a start. The Factoids shouldn't be difficult to find. If I can get Ashley the Illustrator to do a Spot the Difference puzzle I think Sarah the Publisher will be quite happy with that. Then I will have to knuckle down and get the third book actually written. I know that certain High Street supermarket chains have said they'd like to sell the whole series so who knows - maybe more than a few dozen people will eventually know about Yucketypoo!

As far as long term plans are concerned, I am still looking for a part time job to enable me to spend more time answering my calling, plus I am determined to get an agent this year. A famous agent who handles adult books recommended I try a famous agent who handles children's books - but I was very put out by her lack of interest; she didn't even want to know when I told her who had recommended her. I have said on the WriteWords site that I wouldn't recommend any other writer approaches them unless they are J K Rowling, Philip Pullman or Jacqueline Wilson. I told her the first book had already been published and that two more had been commissioned and what did she reply? That she does not have sufficient confidence in my 'manuscript' to accept me as a client. And this despite the fact I sent a copy of the book to her. Ah well! Her loss. I'll find someone else.

I must admit I am feeling pretty fired up - so it is appropriate that, as I sit here and write my blog, Bruce Springsteen is on the radio singing "I'm On Fire" - good on you, Bruce. me too!

Catch you later!

REDISCOVERING MOTHER

2008-01-29T11:29:00.000-08:00

Here I am, back after a somewhat traumatic few days which began on Thursday afternoon last week. It started off like any other Thursday. I had arranged to meet Mother for lunch and sure enough, when I walked into the cafe at one o'clock, there she was, sipping her tea with a ready smile of greeting playing on her lips. We ordered sandwiches and more drinks then sat and talked about lots of things, including funeral insurance - although quite how that came into the conversation, I do not know. At five to two, I boarded the tram back to pergatory - sorry, the office - and we waved at one another through the windows until the tram rounded the corner and she was ot of sight. Back at the office, I ploughed in, getting quite elated at the prospect of meeting illustrator Ashley straight after work at Caffe Nero's in George Street to discuss the illustrations for the second book - a meeting we had been tryng to arrange ever since Christmas and had finally confirmed the Tuesday before - and then, my mobile phone rang at quarter to four thus throwing everything into complete turmoil.

It was Mayday Hospital. Furthermore it was the A and E department and even furthermore it was a nurse telling me that my mother had had an accident and been brought in by ambulance. It was but definitely the kind of phonecall that the parents of young children and the children of elderly parents absolutely dread! I gave my colleagues no option. As the news sank in I pulled on my coat, picked up my bag and just headed out of the door at ten to four. Before I was five yards from the office, I had rung Hubby and by the time I was on the tram I had rung Youngest Sister with the news. I also had to ring Illustrator Ashley to cancel the meeting. In blind panic I rushed to the hospital and I was shaking all over by the time I shoved to the front of the queue to breathlessly proclaim my mother had been brought in an hour or so before. "Through that door," I was told. What would I find? Mother hooked up to dozens of wires, breathing with the aid of a ventilator as she sank into further unconciousness? Mother all battered and bruised and laying on a trolley?

Actually no. As I walked through the door there was Mother smiling and waving from a wheel chair. "What on earth have you been up to?" I blurted out as relief and disbelief swept through me in an icy surge. "I tripped as I got onto the bus," she told me. "I have cut my leg." During the course of the hours that followed, I was able to piece together what had happened. She had indeed slipped as she boarded the bus but this was no mere graze. She had a gaping wound on her left shin a least three inches long and rather nausiatingly deep and wide. What's more, her mishap had caused the bus to be taken out of service as the police and ambulance were called. In fact her 'slip' had brought the whole of central Croydon to a complete standstill! Anyway, to cut a long story short, they manged to pull most of the dislodged skin back into place, patched her up with a couple of dozen sterile strips, some padding and a bandage from ankle to knee, gave her a tetanus jab and sent her home with strict instructions that she 'keep the leg elevated and walk about regularly' (!) - so the likelyhood is that I will have the only high-kicking, hop-along 77 year old mother in the entire unIverse for the next few weeks. Of course there was no question of her spending the weekend at home on her own so she moved in with us for the weekend - along with a small suitcase and The Rat. Fortunately, Hubby adores her and she loves him to bits so everyone got along swimmingly - including The Rat and Cat. Apart fom delayed shock and quite a lot of pain and stiffness, she's better than she was. We took her back to Mayday yesterday who have now referred her to her GP and her sister has come to spend the rest of the week and take care of her. There was some confusion yesterday over how she would get to the doctor on Thursday for the new dressing. Neither of us have a car yet going by bus was out of the question. The doctor said they couldn't do anything to help until they had a fax from Mayday. Mayday said they couldn't do anything to help until they had a fax from the doctor. Super Aunt came up with the idea of contacting Age Concern who have a fleet of volunteer drivers so, for the moment anyway, that problem may have been solved.

It was actually rather nice to have her over for a few days. Because she lives just a fifteen minute cab ride away, there is actually little reason for her to spend more than a day or so with us - apart from when Stepdad died and she was devastated, or at Chrstmas time. And, in herself she was reasonably okay. Hubby and I managed to go out a couple of times for a couple of hours over the weekend because she was happy to be left with the TV remote as long as the kettle and teabags were within hopping distance. And I do believe that The Rat and Cat are beginning to forge something of a relationship, too, as they were caught rubbing noses more than once!

I realise now that I still haven't updated you on the writing but hey -blood is thicker than - well -ink, isn't it?

SNUFFLES, SNEEZES AND A BRAND NEW GRANDSON

2008-01-15T13:12:00.000-08:00

I simply could not believe it when I woke up this morning with yet another cold! What is going on? I had my flu jab like all good asthmatics should and yet, here we are, two weeks into January and I am full of cold! Anyway at least it didn't rear its ugly head until today because on Saturday, we went to meet the latest addition to the family. He is just teeny - with the most unruly mop of almost-black hair you can imagine, and the darkest eyes which have clearly not yet adjusted to the harsh bright light outside the warm dark comfort of his mother's womb! I really cannot temember First Grandson or Grand-daughter being that little, but I suppose they must have been. Grand-daughter went from being the baby of the family to every inch the big sister in one leap! She even looked so much more grown up than when we saw her just after Christmas!

Grand-daughter very proudly took Hubby's hand when we arrived and led us into the house having chattered all the way from the train station about her brother. Half way down the hall way she bolted ahead and by the time we reached the living room, she was standing beside the little mite with a big smile on her face. Highlight of the afternoon just had to be after First Grandson turned up with Eldest Stepdaughter and the three children endured a photo call truly befitting of A-List celebrities, with cameras from proud parents, aunties and grandparents flashing at every turn - all of which they tolerated with astonishing good grace considering one is 12, one is two and the other only six days old! It really was the most wonderful afternoon, although, in retrospect, I suspect that having a houseful of people less than a week after giving birth, all got to be a bit too much for Youngest Stepdaughter. Her hormones are already in disarray and she ended up just a tad tearful by about eight in the evening. Hubby and I kissed them all and came home but a telephone call once we got in convinced us Youngest Stepdaughter was feeling better and things were back on track.

I realise I promised you a writing update this blog but I really feel rough and it is time for my next dose of Beechams so, if you will please excuse, I will come back to that another time!

Bye for now - my bed is calling.

NEW BEGINNINGS.

2008-01-09T00:07:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year! Hello one and all and welcome back. How was your Christmas break? Ours was brilliant. It started when a copy of my book arrived in the post - a perfect bound one! I was chuffed! It looks even better than I could have hoped. Per-lease buy it! it really is a quite remarkable little volume, just right for little hands (Beatrix Potter knew what she was talking about when overseeing the publication of Peter Rabbit with Frederic Warne!). My ten year old nephew read it cover to cover one day, got to the end and said enthusiastically "That's the moral!". I felt like clicking my fingers like Professor Higgins in My Fair Lady and saying "By George, he's got it!"

We saw a lot of our families over the festive season which is always nice. Mother and Arlo (aka The Rat) came over to spend Christmas with us and the chihuahua and Cat just about tolerated each other, even sleeping in the same room at the same time, albeit at opposite ends! We were also joined by Best Mate whose daughter was spending Christmas with her dad and gran somewhere on the south coast. No way would Hubby and I let Best Mate spend Christmas Day on her own so we invited her over on Christmas Eve and threw together a Stocking full of goodies for her. It was so nice on Christmas Day as we all pitched in to get the Christmas Dinner ready. Best Mate cocked up and made two blackcurrant jellies instead of one but we forgave her that. And after dinner we watched the Adam Sandler film on DVD "Night At The Museum". Very funny!

During the course of the next few days, we had a birthday tea at Mother's (her birthday falls on 27 December), a trip into London, a get-together in Leigh on Sea with all Hubby's side of the family and New Year down in Danehill where Youngest Sister lives. We had a treat in London - went into Foyles in Selfridges in Oxford Street and ordered two copies of the book. That was the culmination of a lifelong ambition, I can tell you - buying someting I'd written at Foyles - and we both walked out to the frosty air beaming with pride.

The real icing on the cake though - not the Christmas Cake, I hasten to add - was the arrival on Monday 7th January of Third Grandchild. New Grandson has a mop of dark brown hair and very dark eyes if the photos emailed by Clever Son-in-Law are anything to go by. Hubby and I cannot wait to see them all on Saturday.

Finally there is quite a bit going on with the Writing but I will come back to that next time. For now, all that remains to be said is Here's to You and All The Best for 2008!

WHERE THERE'S A WILL .....

2007-12-17T23:51:00.000-08:00

Isn't it cold! I know it is December and almost Christmas and that we are just a couple of days away from the shortest day of the year but I mean! Think back to the mild temperatures we have had in the UK throughout this year. The last thing I expected was that it would actually get cold! And now I hear the bookies are upping the stakes on an official white Christmas! The last one I can remember was 1982 and that year it was unbelievable - with drifts several feet deep.

I have made a decision. I have been thinking a lot lately - and by God does it hurt when I do too much of that! I have decided that in the New Year, I am going to start looking for a part time job. At the moment I work full time as a PA and I hate it. I am sick of the office and sick of the job - not the people I hasten to add; never them. I have as good a bunch of workmates here as I could possibly want. But yesterday I was taken to lunch and I was told - off the record - that there are going to be some major changes in the New Year - a major staff re-structure, a major re-shuffle and there is a distinct possibility that my role of PA is under threat; that I may be forced to move into the Admin pool and I am not happy about it; nor the way I am being kept in the dark about it. Of course, I should have guessed something like this would happen months ago. Managing Directors do not just walk out at a moment's notice and, to be honest, things haven't been quite the same since he left.

I have been thinking that I need to reduce my hours anyway - this has just speeded things up a bit. I have been working full time almost since I left school at 16 and I really do need to be working less hours now. Plus - I am still thinking about the promotion drive I want to give the Yuck series in the New Year. I can't do that if I am tied to an office five days a week. I have already started looking into funding, grants and awards but it might take me ages to track one down - and then goodeness knows how long it would take for it all to go through. It is obvious that I can't just give up working as much as I'd love to. So the compromise is to work three days a week instead of five, and to supplement the income with school talks and by running workshops - both of which I have done before. Not only would I then still be earning a regular wage, I'd also have two days a week in which to take the Yuck books into the schools, the clubs, the brownie packs, the Beavers, the Writing Groups, the libraries and to write.

So that is the plan. I just need to think of the best way to broach the subject with Hubby, bearing in mind the problems it caused a couple of years ago when I was head-hunted and then made redundant in the space of eighteen months and then laid off after three months at another job. That is why the idea of a compromise seems the best way to do it so now I am mulling it over; the last thing I want him to do is start worrying about our finances. I will keep you guys informed. Where there's a will, there's a way.

In the meantime, may I wish you all a wonderful festive season whatever your personal beliefs and a brilliant 2008.

Have a good one!

A BOOK, A BOOK, MY KINGDOM FOR A BOOK...

2007-12-12T23:58:00.000-08:00

In the space of just over twelve hours, there has been elation and deflation in New Successful Writer's life! It all began at quarter to five yesterday evening. That was when Hubby rang me at the office in a state of huge excitement. "I have just had a phone call from Lorraine!" he cried (who is Youngest Step-daughter by the way). "She's taken delivery of a special little package!" . Now bearing in mind Youngest Step-daughter has a baby due on 29 December, my initial rush of excitement was one of the Proud-Grandmotherly kind. Boy? Girl? Weight? Name? That we have already been told - not least by Grand-daughter herself - that the forthcoming baby is male fell by the wayside for a few seconds. "It's your book!" crowed Hubby, inadvertantly scattering all thoughts of New Grandchild. "The print version!" This took a moment to sink in. "What?" I managed after a silence of several moments. "She's had six copies arrive today!" Hubby went on. Slowly things began to fall into place. The main thing being that my book is now in print - and not a self-printed copy of the download! Hubby was babbling on about how Youngest Step-daughter and Clever Son-In-Law had ordered a copy for each of their friends from the Parent-craft classes they'd attended when expecting Grand-daughter, and how they wanted them all signed before Christmas so they could be wrapped and given to the various offspring. All I kept thinking during the next incredible few minutes was 'Wow!' and 'It finally got there!'

I immediately went onto the Yucketypoo website and tried to order six copies myself but, in the adrenalin rush, hit a wrong button somewhere and had to give up. All the way home I was thinking how ironic it was that the books arrived yesterday when, earlier on, hot on the trail of Sarah the Publisher telling me that they now had a Print-on-Demand service available, I had emailed her and asked how I could get a copy printed up in time to give to Hubby for Christmas.

Anyway, when I got home, there was Hubby beaming like a Cheshire cat and I must admit his enthusiasm was a tonic in itself. But five minutes later the telephone rang. It was Sarah the Publisher. She had organised a limited edition print run just to meet the orders she'd had come in over the past couple of months and only had three copies left. There is another print-run scheduled - but it is doubtful it will happen this side of Christmas. A lot depends on how many more orders we can secure between now and then and, given it is just twelve days away, I won't hold my breath.

Hubby was absolutely gutted! I could see him deflating like the proverbial Christmas balloon! Sarah the Publisher did say she would send me a copy but that wasn't really what Hubby wanted to hear. He wanted to know we'd sold enough copies in advance to warrant a full print run of 2500. He wanted to know we could walk into W H Smiths and Waterstones and possibly see copies on display there. He wanted to take a copy into work and say proudly "Here it is!" and hand copies to the parents on Christmas Day. Most of all he wanted to crack open the champagne and say "Well done, Author!" as our glasses clinked. That will still happen - but after the thrill of hearing there are print versions in circulation right now - he wanted to celebrate right now - not next month or next year. This book has already been germinating for sixteen months. We have already had a mini-launch for the electronic version and there is no denying that it really is happening. It is just that it seems to be taking so bloody long!

Over coffee at Costa's this morning, he got very passionate again and, again, I was moved almost to tears by his unerring faith and unceasing belief in me. He knows that both Sarah the Publisher and I are haunting the media and book-sellers with info packs and Press Releases. He knows that several High Street Chains and a TV Producer have already expressed some interest in it. He knows she is a small independent publisher with limited resources. But he is clearly disappointed it has taken this long to get where we are - which, let's be honest - isn't as far as we had both hoped. To top it all off, he looked me straight in the eye and bequeathed me every penny of our savings at the Building Society (it isn't much but it is just sitting there doing nothing) if it means I can take some time off and just get out there and meet the people, sell the book, truly realise what is not longer just my dream but our dream and just be an active writer.

In all honesty, no amount of best-sellers could match that level of Love with a capital 'L' - or even come close but please - anyone - everyone - go to http://www.yucketypoo.co.uk/ and order a copy. Order several copies. Get everyone you know to order copies as well. And remember that a percentage of every copy sold goes to CLIC-sargent plus an important environmental message reaches the very people who will inherit the earth - our children and grandchildren!

And hopefully we will be able to open the champagne!

SO NOW WHAT?

2007-12-11T23:50:00.001-08:00

Well, here we are, less than two weeks away from the Big Day! How comes it is Wednesday again, already? How did that happen? Where did the time go? Mind you, I do not much care how quickly time passes leading into the Christmas break - as long as the Christmas Break itself does not pass too quickly! My Christmas Shopping stint for Hubby did not fulfil my expectations. The atmosphere was great and Croydon felt very festive. The trouble is, and I am almost sure it doesn't get any easier, Hubby and I have been together for so long now that we actually want for very little. What I'd like to give him is the opportunity to retire because I know that's what he wants. What he would like to give me is the opportunity to quit the day job, stay at home and write because he knows that's what I want. But both of those are currently out of the question so it means more nick-nacks like pens, socks, underwear and chocolate - all of which are readily available and all of which we have already got! Ah well - not to worry. We have at least got each other (who's making that retching noise?) and as long as we have that, I guess presents to unwrap on Christmas Day are just bonuses!

I have been in quite a reflective mood the last few days. I have hardly written a thing of late, which makes me both sad and ashamed. What I would really like to do is start my novel - the one I have been thinking about and researching and procrastinating over for at least a decade - and possibly longer. But with the third Yuck book still to write, the novel is going to have to take a back seat for a bit longer. And I miss my poetry a huge amount. No time. Saddest words ever written as Og Mandino says in "The Choice". I just don't know where 2007 has gone - along with all the hopes and dreams I had this time last year. And going through the menopause has not helped one iota! A few years ago all I'd have worried about was where the next poem was coming from. Lately it has been whether or not the Hot Flushes will restart (I had the first one in ages a week or so ago!) or if I will ever be fully myself again? Where am I going? Where will I be this time next year?

And the biggest question of all - who really gives a damn?

"THCAREY......"

2007-12-07T00:03:00.000-08:00

I am in the office ultra-early today. I wanted to put the Christmas Tree up. Figured it might put my colleagues in a festive mood. Hoping to put our own up this evening at home. Grand-daughter is visiting on Sunday and I wanted her to see it. It will be the only chance we get to show it to her this year because the family Christmas get-together is at Youngest Stepdaughter's on 29 December - ironically that is the same day that her baby is due - which means we are all congrigating in Leigh on Sea in Essex rather than Addiscombe in Croydon. And talking of Grand-daughter - Hubby and I survived the whole weekend with her last week.

We went into Christmassy Croydon on the Saturday full of plans to take her to see one of Santa's many Helpers. We thought we'd initiate her gently by first taking her to see the workshop full of mechanical elves in Centrale. One look at the soul-less figurines and she pulled the buggy hood as far down as she could. Okay. So the elves didn't work. What about the huge Singing tree in the central concourse? Oops - no - she told us it was 'thcarey' as opposed to 'scary'. When it suddenly opened its huge blinking eyes and began to sing, it almost finished her off. It actually is quite scarey! We crossed to Whitgift. The giant tree inside the main entrance was also 'thcarey' even though it didn't sing so we went into Smiths to get a couple of books for presents. By now, she had talked us into letting her out to walk. Big mistake. She saw the Terry's chocolate oranges piled up in front of the till and really let rip when we walked out without buying her one. I eventually had bribe her into going back into the buggy by promising she could have 'Dum-dum' if she'd only stop and resist the living rigamortis that had set in to coincide with the scream with the highest decibel count in the history of mankind. This worked as she is only allowed 'Dum-dum' when it is sleep time. As she had been up since half past six and it was now almost midday, she was just about due her usual nap anyway. She finally conceded, sucked on 'Dum' and fell asleep inside thirty seconds. So we never did get to see the Helper in the giganticus Whitgift grotto.

This afternoon I am finishing work at noon so that I can go Christmas Shopping for Hubby's presents in Croydon. It will be the only opportunity I get between now and the Big Day so I intend to make the most of it. Tomorrow we are going Into Town - which effectively means a day in London, most specifically Covent Garden - to finish off the General Christmas Shopping. We are both looking forward to that as we have a love of London, especially at this time of year when all the lights are glittering and "Do they Know It's Christmas" is booming out of every shop doorway. Having said that though, I heard The Pogues and Kirsty McColl's "Fairytale of New York" for the first time this season the other day. That, to me, more adequately epitomises the spirit of Christmas and I allowed myself a little smile. When you hear that for the first time as Christmas gallops towards us like a herd of demon reindeer across a snowy plain, that's when Christmas has really arrived!

Wish me luck as I brave the Manic Shoppers again. Oh yeah - I guess I'll actually be one of them as long as I am trailing through the town with ten thousand bags hooked over my elbows!!!! My prime directive? To find at least one unique, unexpected, awe-inspiring present for my Steve. That shouldn't be too didfficult. Should it...?

BIG OOOOOPPPS!!!

2007-11-30T03:00:00.000-08:00

Steve insisted last night that I had never mentioned my blog to him. I, on the other hand, insisted I had and had even shown it to him but he is adamant he'd neither known of it nor looked at it. One of us is going crazy. I think it is me! I think it is another menopause menace. I know that, lately, I have been a bit forgetful at times - like going into the shop for milk and coming out with everything but and not realising till I get home. But to forget a whole blog? Almost five month's worth of it? That is actually quite worrying. Or maybe it is just Me.

Now - where did I put my brain this morning?

WHY WOMEN WONDER...

2007-11-28T23:55:00.000-08:00

According to a popular freebie newspaper, two thirds of young women have had unprotected sex with a new partner. Surely it logically follows then that two thirds of young men have also had unprotected sex with a new partner but does the popular freebie say that? Of course not. The same freebie, on the same day, said that women spend an average of seven hours per working day surfing the web and men only spend two or three. Seven hours a day! I rarely manage more half an hour and that is at eight in the morning when I know I have a bit of time spare before I actually start work.

It is the 21st century. Surely it is time for the battle of the sexes to draw to a close - yet the media keep on fuelling the fire! Maybe it is the fact I am going through the menopause and my hormones are all over the place but I am finding things like this increasingly offensive. As if my confidence hasn't had enough of a knock with everything else going on in my body over which I have no control whatsoever! Perhaps I am taking things too personally? Maybe, by responding angrily to something like this I am only helping to fuel that fire? I don't know. I only know that I think it is high time that everyone just accepted everyone else for what they are and not for what the media says they should be? Would a man be able to cope with the barrage of negativity that us girls face day after day after day? Somehow I doubt it. Men have some wonderful qualities. I find the company of men reassuring and interesting. Women also have some wonderful qualities and I find them great company too. I would hate to live in a world without either of them.

I just wish the media at large would have the same comfortable outlook rather than constantly pitting one against the other!

NOT RADIO GA-GA...

2007-11-26T13:34:00.000-08:00

Well hello everyone. Sorry it has been a few days but there you go. Any fellas reading this may want to skip the next part but I just wanted to update you girlies out there on what's going on with my menopause! Don't worry - no long winded, graphic explanations, just a line to let you know that I am actually NOT over the worst yet! I was tootling along very nicely for a while but then ... things ... began to happen in the lower regions. Okay - to cut to the chase - I started a period that I have now been putting up with for three weeks ( I did warn you, boys!). I feel absolutely fine, have no belly ache and no other symptoms. I have spoken to the nurse at the doctor's pracice and I have also signed up with a website called Menopause Matters I I think it is http://www.menopausematters.co.uk/

The good news is that such odd behaviour in our bodies is very normal at our age and I have had a stack of messages back from other members who all assure me that it doesn't last forever and really does lead to better times. I was so relieved I instantly stopped worrying about it. I am still going to have a chat with the nurse on Thursday morning just in case there are any other shocks lined up for me during this weird phase in my life. I will update you.

Anyway - that is enough of that! Welcome back Gents. My Radio Mayday interview yesterday was fab. I couldn't believe how easy the programme presenter - a lovely fella called Trevor - made it for me. I was in the studio for an hour and the interview was done in three phases - The Book, Writing and the Environment. He led me incredibly well and I was not nervous at all. How could I be? I was talking about the most important thing in my professional life and it was great. He has said he will send me a copy on CD so I will send it to Sarah the Publisher who has said she'll put it onto the Yuck website for other people to listen to. I haven't heard it myself yet but Hubby said I was brilliant! But then he would, I suppose. The truth is that I just forgot I was being interviewed. Trev asked and I answered. It really was that simple. What's more he has given me some contact names of other local radio stations to try and get onto to. I will let you know how it goes.

There have been some other developments with Yuck. Sarah the Publisher has got something up her sleeve but won't say what so I have no idea. What she did tell me was that the book can now be ordered from any of the High Street book stores which is great and that it has been adopted for the Christmas season by a large Shopping Mall in Birmingham. As for me - well I am still bombarding the papers and other media with Press Packs, Promo fliers and Info sheets and I refuse to give up until it has been recognised by a lot more than the local papers and hospital radio (not that I am knocking hospital radio - yesterday only made me hunger for more and I will always be in Trevor's debt for introducing me to the power of the airways!) - but the book needs to do well country (if not world) wide and I will not give up on it under any circumstances!

Have a busy weekend coming up by the way. Grand-daughter is coming to spend it with us and I know she'll run Hubby and I ragged. We are planning to take her to see one of Santa's helpers in Croydon. I only hope she doesn't have hysterics when she sees him like one of our nieces did when she was that age. It isn't just the girls in our family either. Grandson became terrified the day he bumped into Ronald McDonald in Penge. It must have truly traumatised him because he still talks about it ten years later!

I will try to confirm that web address for any menopausal ladies out there tomorow. In the meantime, have a good evening!

(27.11.07 - THAT IS THE CORRECT ADDRESS FOR MENOPAUSE MATTERS!)

NO WAY JOSE

2007-11-22T04:30:00.000-08:00

Have just heard on Smooth fm that Jose Mourinho is hotly tipped to be offered the England manager's job following Steve McClaren's departure after last night's humiliating defeat at Wembley! Please no! I didn't like him as the manager of Chelsea and I don't think he would have the England squad's best interests at heart. He is too full of himself and too critical of others if his team loses!

Had an in depth discussion with Hubby over coffee at Costa's this morning. Football is his second language and through him I have developed a healthy respect for, and understanding of, the game, I must admit I did not enjoy it half as much before I met him and now I am as keen on it as he is (when Alex Ferguson sent us best wishes from Manchester United on our wedding day, that just about clinched it for me) and we quite often have football-orientated debates.

Whether or not Aston Villa manager Martin O'Neill fancies the job remains to be seen.

No disrespect but at least he's a Brit!

"THIS HAS GOT TO STOP"

2007-11-21T00:32:00.000-08:00

Did anyone see the news the other night where the brother of yet another young victim of violence was talking to reproters? It made my heart bleed and my soul weep. Through his tears this young black man was imploring "Why do these things happen? We see other families on the telly about it and now look, we are the family on the telly." He then went on to say "Something has to be done to stop this. It isn't the police. It isn't racial. It is black people doing it to ourselves and each other!"

God bless that young man!

I must say that every time I see another news story about another youngster - regardless of their colour, race or creed - who has been shot or stabbed, another young life being snuffed out, another mindless, crazy, soul-destroying waste of a fellow human, my heart just goes out to their families, their communities, even their attackers who obviously think that, just like in the movies, anyone who is fatally wounded actually just gets up and goes off set as soon as the cameras stop rolling. But it doesn't happen like that. Bruce Willis, Arnold Schwartzeneger and Mel Gibson may walk through a hale of bullets in their films and survive then go home to their farms or their mansions and their families but in Real Life, the victims remain exactly that - victims, and their demise unwittingly creates other victims in the shape of a mourning family, a grieving mother, a tearful brother saying "This has got to stop!"

How very right he is. How very open and honest he is. How very human he is. How very much he suffers now that his Bobby has gone. How very much his words slice into my subconcious and hopefully into the subconcious of every single human being before more kids die, more kids kill and more families are left in shatters. My heart aches at the madness of it all.

I know this is heavy stuff for 8.30 in the morning but that young man has haunted my thoughts and even my dreams - I awoke, heart thumping and in a cold sweat of terror at midnight after dreaming I'd been shot. It was still so vivid that I was actually reciting my address to the emergency services as I awoke and all I could hear was this weeping young man saying over and over again like an unhappy echo "This has got to stop!"

He is right. It has.

ATTACK OF THE MANIC SHOPPERS

2007-11-19T23:58:00.000-08:00

I was somewhat surprised to note when I weighed myself this morning that since I stopped worrying about my weight I have lost half a stone! How did that happen? Where did it go? I think I will have to stop worrying about my weight forever; at least that way I might get back to my ideal weight (ideal according to the media you understand). I have heard of the phrase 'Think yourself thin'. Thin I will never be but thinner-than-I-have-been-of-late sounds quite interesting. Work that one out if you can!

Hubby and I did not get all the Christmas shopping done last Saturday, despite the fact we were in Croydon for around eight hours. Hubby - who was diagnosed diabetic eighteen months ago - was not feeling a hundred per cent which put a bit of a dampener on it, but it wasn't his fault. Plus the place was absolutely heaving. With five weeks to go, people were still shopping like there was no tomorrow. You couldn't move in some places, finding yourself hemmed in by a human wall of panic buyers behaving like weird dolls whose Prime Directive was to BUY BUY BUY. I have never seen anything like it this far in advance of Christmas Eve.

At five to eleven, the Debenhams Santa arrived, somewhat sureally, in a black and silver Rolls Royce surrounded by security guards. He had to compete for attention along with the Allders Christmas dancers (lots of little girls in red and fake-ermine) and the Town Crier to boot. It was complete mayhem. Hubby and I were sipping coffees in Munch in Allders Mall and all we could hear from the crowds pressing against the windows were their mindless Ooohs and Ahhs. At least there weren't any real reindeer this year, which must make the street cleaners happy!

Of course the fact we didn't get it all done heralds a repeat performance this Saturday. I'd like to think that everyone will have got the Christmas Shopping Fever out of their systems by then but I can't see it, somehow. In fact I am not at all sure I can face such retail craziness again so quickly.

I might just have to write to Santa and leave it all in his very capable gloved hands. No, not the Debenhams one, the real one.......

It's CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2007-11-15T23:49:00.000-08:00

CHRISTMAS has really arrived in Croydon! The lights are being switched on tomorrow but the decorations are already up in most of the town centre. In Centrale - which is our newest shopping mall - there is a huge Christmas Tree in the centre concourse with child-size manequins (I am not sure if I have spelt that correctly) perched all over it, waving and singing. Outside the food court on the second floor, there is a very busy Santa's workshop full of mechanical elves getting presents ready to go on the sleigh.

Across the way in the Whitgift Centre - our oldest established shopping mall - Hubby and I walked through yesterday and found a ginormous Santa's grotto in its centre concourse where there had certainly been no Santa's grotto a couple of days earlier. Add to all this the countless giant teddy bears wandering around beside various characters of fairy story fame, the live DJ playing all the old Christmas favourites at the main entrance of Boots the chemist, the steady backgroud kerching of cash registers on overtime and the glowing faces of the shoppers then you'll get the general idea. All this and the Big Day itself is still five weeks away.

Don't get me wrong. I am not complaining. I love Christmas, never outgrew it and never will. Fortunately all my family and Hubby are exactly the same. But I just wonder if it all kicking off so early maybe distracts us a wee bit from the actual holiday. It also makes me kind of sad that the story of that incredible little baby boy, born in the poorest of circumstances around 2000 years ago, somehow gets lost in translation. And no, I am not about to start preaching - that is neither my place nor my job. I just hope that during the thrill, glitter and excitement of it all, whoever we are and whatever our beliefs, we don't forget how it came about in the first place!

Tomorrow, Hubby and I are going to get completely caught up in the festivities because we are going Christmas shopping Big Time, the plan being to get as much of it out of the way as possible. We have a huge extended family - Sisters, Brothers, Parents, Aunts etc - and have to set ourselves a strict budget, so much per adult, so much per child, except where Grandson and Granddaughter are concerned. We do still have a budget for them but it is a bit bigger than the budget for countless Neices and Nephews, for example. Next year we'll have Third Grandchild to consider as well so we may have to alter the perimeters a bit more - but let's get this Christmas out of the way first, eh?

Tonight - Hubby and I are going to see Status Quo Rocking All Over The World at the Fairfield Halls, so very much looking forward to that.

Have a great weekend.

MAYDAY .... MAYDAY ....

2007-11-14T00:11:00.000-08:00

I finally got to the doctor on Monday morning. I actually tried to get an appointment on the way home on Friday last week. I said they had a three-days-in-advance thing, didn't I? Despite the fact I felt like shit and should be given priority because I am asthmatic, the earliest they could get me in was Monday morning at 9.30. I did mean to go into work straight afterwards but, having been told I have a 'viral infection', plus the fact my throat was sore and my head felt like it had ten tons of rock rolling about in it, I realised as soon as I left the surgery that I really couldn't face the office. So I turned round and went home. Spent the day snuggled up on the sofa with a quilt and Cat and daytime TV (Loose Women. Bargain Hunt - quite sad really). I felt a bit better by Monday evening so wrote my scathing criticism of Sky, but then went into work yesterday morning feeling really rough again. I must have looked it, too, the amount of comments people made.

I feel quite a lot better today. Met Hubby for coffee at Costa's and showed him the email I received at the office yesterday from a local radio station. They want to interview me about the book - live on air - the Sunday after next. This is good news. I know it is only a small, local hospital radio station but it is a start. Hopefully it will bode well for the future. I have now also sent Press Packs out to the Telegraph, the Times and the national Guardian as well as Rolf Harris ('far too busy to comment but wishes you well') and Vanessa Feltz (no repsonse as yet but I live in hope). Someone somewhere will take this book seriously soon, I swear. I haven't been a writer all my life only to see my first children's book sink into oblivion because no-one considers it important. That's like asking Richard Branson to stop being an entrepreneur, Richard and Judy to stop talking about Books (since they won't talk about mine!!!!) and the Queen to stop being a monarch. It simply cannot be.

Last year I was asked to do a talk at a local Writer's circle. I thoroughly enjoyed it and was passionate about my subject. The members listened,clinging to every word I said. They gave me a standing ovation. I was congratulated by everyone afterwards. Hubby had come along and the pride glowing in his eyes as I spoke and answered questions was truly breathtaking to see. But as we made our way home afterwards he said to me "Why do you look so sad? That went incredibly well!" I explained it was because I felt like a fraud. He asked me to explain what I meant and I couldn't. I just said "I don't feel like a real writer." He replied "You are a real writer. How can you think otherwise?"

The disinterest shown by the media in this crucial, ground-breaking book leaves me sad and feeling fraudulant again. All writers believe in their work - which is good. And all writers want the best publicity they can get for their work. I am not saying my book is better than anyone's else's, because it isn't. But I do think it deserves more interest purely because of the environmental element and yet .... and yet ...

So even if Radio Mayday are small and localised, I welcome this opportunity. And just ask that a few others can follow suit. I don't think I am asking too much to want the best for Yucketypoo. It just makes me feel sad that so few others can see its potential ......

SKY'S THE (absolute) LIMIT!

2007-11-11T08:39:00.000-08:00

I have got the right hump with Sky at the moment. For some reason they have decided to update their site and services and guess what? I can't get into our emails - neither mine nor Hubby's. I spent half an hour on the phone last Thursday, paying premium rate charges whilst they faffed about only to tell me they were experiencing high rates of usage at the moment and have been inundated with calls like mine for several days. Exasperated I asked them how long they envisioned this state of affairs (STATE being the operative word here)would last and was told it should be sorted 'By this Saturday'. Right. So how come it is now Sunday and I still can't access them? I am a writer for Heaven's sake! I need to check my emails at least once a day because you never know when you might get that unexpected commission. How many more premium rate phonecalls must I make before we can access our emails? It is infuriating and frustrating. Especially since we joined Sky broadband because someone we know said they'd found them exceptionally efficient. I think they must have been talking about another suplier because Sky is complete rubbish. If any Sky employees read this - tell your idiot bosses to either pull their finger out or I will pull the plug on them! I am a hair's breadth away from contacing BBC Watchdog! I demand access to my emails!

Hubby and I went Christmas shopping today. We didn't get much because he had to go straight onto work and didn't want me carrying tens of thousands of bags home on my own. We are hoping to get it nearly all done next weekend. When I got back, I immediately hauled out everything we already have stashed away and made lists of who's got what. Grandson and Granddaughter fare best at the moment - no surprises there, then. But the parents are catching up fast. Everone else will have to be taken into consideration next weekend. Hubby and I have thus far bought one another two each. We have promised not to go too mad but I know him so well. Last time we made a joint promise like that, I kept my side of the bargain and was gutted when he then bought me twice as much as I'd bought him. The difference is this year that we are trying to watch the pennies a bit. We want to go back to the Channel Islands next summer - we haven't been for a few years and we do love them. I will tell you all about them one day. Suffice it to say that going out there necessitates us going easy on the Christmas spend this year. Hopefully, that will be enough of a carrot for both of us.

Oh well - since I can't get into our emails, I night as well go and watch a DVD. Fancy a bit of Harry Potter - actually let me rephrase that: I think I'll go and watch one of the Harry Potter DVDs. That's better. Daniel Radcliffe is turning into an excellent actor - but he's definitely not my idea of a toyboy. Maybe it's because I've watched him grow up the same way I have watched my similarly aged nephew grow up!

Bloody Sky! I hope there's nothing urgent waiting for my attention!

The POORLY PERSON PRESENTS....

2007-11-09T00:02:00.000-08:00

Hello everyone. What do you think of my new look blogspot? I am actually quite chuffed with it considering I am a reknown technophobe! I can cope with all the basic stuff but when it comes to getting to know the bells and whistles, forget it. Also - I didn't realise until yesterday that I could make such changes; but I am actually rather pleased with it and hope a few more people get to read it - maybe even comment on it!

Remember me telling you about my horrid cold the other week? Well believe it or not, a third of the way through November I still haven't managed to completely shake it off. Yesterday morning I woke up without the sneezes and streaming nose but with an excruciatingly painful sore throat and enflamed tongue - can you believe that? Since when have sore throats and sore tongues gone together? It felt as if I'd severely burned it on scalding coffee and that stayed with me all day. Having seen an advert on TV telling us all how helpful the pharmacists can be at Boots, I decided to stop off on my way home from the office last night and seek some advice. There would be no point in making an appointment at the doctor's because you have to book at least three days in advance (I kid you not - this is what the national health service has come to) and I really needed some prompt relief because I couldn't taste anything and it was agony to swallow. I queued for five minutes and finally told the pharmacist "I have a very sore throat and tongue and wondered if you could recommend something?". According to the ad on TV, this is where they shuffle you into a private little consulting room and give you the benefit of their wisdom. Not so for me, though. She looked at me and said seriously "Throat lozengers?". Wow! I nearly fell over backward at her expert advice! I must have looked crestfallen because she then added "Bonjela should help your sore mouth." So I bought Tyrozets (for the throat) and Bonjela (for the tongue) and went home.

I must admit both brought some relief but then I woke up at quarter to two this morning with swollen glands in my neck. In fact Ifelt so ill, I almost rang Hubby at work but, knowing how a phonecall at two in the morning would throw him into a blind panic, I got out of bed instead and went to the kitchen where I made myself a Beechams Flu Plus Very Berry hot drink. Cat got confused and thought it must be breakfast time so she dragged herself off the chair where she'd been in a deep sleep and sat patiently by the cupboard where she knows I store her food. I couldn't not give her half a sachet really, so, as the kettle boiled I gave her a bit of a midnight feast and then stood in my fluffy dressing gown sipping the Very Berry. It actually was pretty soothing and it sent back to sleep without too much of a problem. But then the fever broke at 4am and I woke up drenched with sweat - I hadn't realised until then that I'd even had a fever. Still - for all this, I do actually feel some improvement this morning, met Hubby at six for a coffee (at least I could taste it!)at Costa's and then came into the office. I'd still rather be at home writing - but it is Friday and it's almost Christmas plus I have checked my blogspot and found all the changes still there so I must have done something right.

So there you are. Not just a chronicle of my ailments but a mugshot too. What more could you ask for?

Have a good weekend.

WHY I LIKE CAROL THATCHER

2007-11-06T12:18:00.000-08:00

Not sure what I am going to write about this evening. I have been feeling a little morose of late and I don't know why. I feel very tired. Not tired of living, or exhausted. Just tired.

I guess I could start by telling you that Carol Thatcher sent me a message today after I approached her and asked her if she'd read and comment on Yucketypoo. I really like her. She's natural. She's down to earth. She makes me laugh. And I like watching her on TV. Bless her busy little heart. She emailed back that she is really busy with her own book but wishes me and Lollypop and Yuck lots of luck for the future. And she replied within half an hour of my intitial email. So my faith in her was completely justified. I will just have to try to think of someone else I can try now. And I am thinking like this because Sarah the Publisher told me the other day that the book just isn't selling as well as we'd all hoped. And this is not because we are not trying. In the past week, I have sent Press packs to The Daily Mirror, The Sun, The Daily Mail, The Surrey Monocle, The New York Times, Croydon Radio, Mayday Hospital Radio and The One Show on BBC 1 trying to drum up some publicity - and I have not had a single reply from anyone.

Sarah the Publisher has been very busy too. She has contacted a lot of the High Street chains - like Woolworths, Waterstones and Sainsbury - and had no response from them either. Tesco and Asda have both expressed an interest in stocking the whole series which is something - but it does slow things down a tad because I have only just completed the second book and haven't even started on the third one. It could be months before the series is finished by which time Christmas will have been and gone. So now what? I thought of trying Richard Branson, Alan Titchmarsh and Bill Oddie but it is nigh on impossible to get their contact details unless you know someone who knows someone - and I tend to be more familiar with other writers rather than TV personalities (I won't call them celebrities because I loath the word and feel sure most of them do too).

I am trying to think of someone reasonably iconic but also familiar enough to everyone to be their next door neighbour. Any ideas? If they are connected in some way shape or form to the environment or they are known to be eco-friendly, all the better. But the harder I try to think, the more I feel my spirits sink and the tireder (if there is such a word) I become.

If you read my last blog, you'll also see that tonight was meant to be Meatloaf-at-Wembley night. So why am I ensconced in my Snug listening to Smooth fm and writing a blog that hardly anyone reads? It is because poor old Meat is poorly and has had to call off the tour until further notice. And although I have been told the tickets remain valid until the concert is rescheduled, I am still disappointed - and so is Hubby who had arranged the night off work and has now had to go in. It isn't Meat's fault if he is poorly. I have had larengitis myself and it isn't funny! But I'd rather be living Bat Out Of Hell than Old Bat Out Of Energy, but there you go. Lots of Get Well wishes to Mr Loaf then. And let's hope that they don't reschedule it for the night we are babysitting Grand-daughter!

JACQUELINE WILSON AND ME

2007-10-31T15:48:00.000-07:00

Good evening everyone - and Happy Hallowe'en. Have you had any trick-or-treaters this evening? I have had oodles of miniscule witches, ghouls, wizards and vampires at my door this year. Luckily, when Hubby and I were in Croydon the other day we bought two selection packs of penny favourites - you know - lollies, Love Hearts, Swizzles and violet munchies - so I have given lots of treats out. I love seeing the children enjoying themselves and wish we'd gone trick-or-treating when we were kids. The closest I ever came was when I was about 12 when a friend and I dressed up as witches and wandered the streets cackling and jumping out on people from behind hedges. We didn't go knocking on doors of course! It wasn't encouraged in those days with many an adult seeing it as little more than another form of begging; but we enjoyed ourselves none-the-less and made an occasion of it.

A few months ago, I bought myself a copy of Jacqueline Wilson's book 'Jacky Daydream' - an autobiography of her childhood years. I put it on the bookshelf along with a dozen or so other new books waiting to be read and there it stayed - until last Friday. I don't know if you are familiar with Jacqueline Wilson? Most of you would have heard of her I imagine but the closest I'd got before was when I read 'Tracey Beaker' a couple of years ago after picking it up at a Car Boot Sale. And a few months later 'The Illustrated Mum'. I was of course familiar with the candy pinks of most of the book covers and, with no disrespect, considered the books themselves as a kind of chick-lit in embrio. All that has changed now because of 'Jacky Daydream'. You really shouldn't judge a book by its cover - or the author either, I have to admit, because this book was utterly brilliant. In fact I have never ever read an autobiography quite like it. And I was just so engrossed in Jacqueline's world that I went out and spent the last of my 50th birthday Smiths vouchers on three of her books. I finished 'Jacky Daydream' on Monday and read 'The Lottie Project' in the course of the next 24 hours. I started on 'Midnight' this morning and am completely spellbound. Ok - so I started late (well - very late if I'm honest) but I think I have become a Jacqueline Wilson convert!

It isn't just because her characters are so completely believable (I have seem parts of myself as a child in Charlie, Lottie and Violet already), and it isn't just because she writes so naturally. It is because I recognise the Writer's personae that shines through every single word. I would not be fool-hardy enough to say there are simalarities between Jacky's childhood and mine because they were completely different - even if just as stormy. But I knew Kingston as a little girl which is where she lived. I played exactly the kind of imaginary games she did. We even read many of the same books. And - just like Jacky - I knew I was going to be a writer -almost from the time I could understand stories. I could read by the time I was three, took to it like a duck to water, my mum always said, and was consequently planted in the book corner at school and left to my own devices whilst my classmates got to grips with their alphabet. I won a prize at the age of nine in a writing competition at school and announced to a class full of twelve year olds during a careers talk at High School that I was going to be a writer. "What kind of writer?" the teacher asked. "A book writer," was my reply.

I don't know if I will read all Jacky's books; I will probably give her 'Girls' series a miss because I really do think I am too old for them. And I doubt if I will read anymore Tracey Beaker or the Double Act series. But I think I'll get through quite a few over the coming months. And I am sure I will read 'Jacky Daydream' again at some point.

And one day, maybe, I'll get to shake the hand of this lady of a billion words; purely because I like her - and because I see us a fellow travellers on the literary road of life!

Here's to Jacky!

CHIHUAHUAS & DUALERS

2007-10-29T13:18:00.000-07:00

I really cannot believe that we are almost into November! Christmas is less than ten weeks away and, although we have already got quite a selection of presents hidden away just awaiting the wrapping paper, we have still got a lot to do. We have decided to spend it at home this year. At the moment it looks as if my mum will be spending it with us. Which means she'll bring Arlo.
Hubby refers to Arlo as 'the rat' - which probably gives you a very good indication of what he is - and Cat really doesn't like him. So what is it about chihuahuas that turn so many people off? He is a little sweetie, he really is. And okay he is barely ten inches high, he does have big pointy ears and very large, glittery eyes like Gremlins personified. But he is good company for Mother and he's funny. He also has a loud yap and a tendency to ruck up the little rug in the hall if Mother leaves hm alone for too long.

The first ime she brought Arlo over, Cat did not know quite what to make of him. Here was a creature that looked like large vermin but smelt and barked like a dog and the fact he is only an inch or two taller than she is did nothing to help her confusion. She only knew that she did not like him and made a beeline for the garden where she sulked throughout the afternoon. He's been over a couple of times ever since and the last time he came they just regarded eachother for several moments with the utmost disdain before Cat sidled very slowly and defiantly out of the room, never once breaking eye contact with him. And then running for the hills just as soon as she was on the other side of the catflap! So if Mother comes over with Arlo on Christmas Eve, it could end up more like Guy Fawkes night - with all kinds of feline/canine fireworks flaring up. Or they may just totally ignore one another the whole two days!

How was your weekend? Ours was hectic as ever. On Friday evening, Hubby and I went to the Ashcroft in Croydon to see a Dualers concert. They are two brothers - Tyburn and Si - who I first saw busking outside Debenhams in Croydon some eight years ago. They were singing "Chain Gang" and I was completely hooked by the time they finished. They are truly sons of Croydon and they always draw huge crowds whenever they appear. They have also had a couple of top 20 hits "Truly Madly Deeply" and "Kiss On The Lips". They have won a huge following and over the past few years have started filling local concerts halls and theatres. And because they are very talented and very local, everyone feels like they know them personally and it always ends up like a gigantic party. And the amazing thing is that they have polished the knack of cutting across all the age barriers - and their fan base age in range from zero to a hundred. So we had a brilliant couple of hours there.

On Saturday morning, we had another newspaper photographer round because of Yucketypoo. This was more like professional photo call though for he must have taken nigh on fifty photos of me with Hubby, me with Book, me with Cat sneaking into frame and trying to win fame and forune for her long tail, me in the garden, on sofa, by the door, holding up Book, not holding up Book, sometimes both Hubby and I holding up Book. What an experience! What's more, he has said he'll burn all the photos onto a disk and send it to us. We also exchanged email addresses before he left after a solid 90 minute stint.

Once he had gone, Hubby and I head to London - and in particular Covent Garden - where we spent the rest of the day. We even got tickets to a rather brilliant comedy play called The Vegemite Tales which we saw that night at The Venue in Leicester Place. It was really funny. It was all about Australians living in London and it was by a woman writer, so good for her. We really enjoyed it. We got home around quarter to midnight and fell into bed around 1.30.

Tomorrow is our wedding anniversary - our 8th. Next May we celebrate our unofficial anniversary - meaning that on the 1st we'll have actually been together for 25 years. Even Bank Robbers get time off for good behaviour! We exchanged official anniversary cards earlier this evening. Hubby has said that since he's working and we can't go out for dinner, we 'll go out for breakfast tomorrow instead. I got both of us a present as well - tickets to see Meatloaf next Tuesday at Wembley.

And to hell with the fact I'm a vegetarian!

THE JOURNEY BEGINS

2007-10-19T00:03:00.001-07:00

A nice big article has appeared in my local paper today which tells people all about the book. When Hubby saw it, the pride in his eyes brought a lump to my throat! ""Bloody hell, Jill!" he gasped. "That's brilliant!" Since arriving at the office, I have cut it out and taped it to the staff room door. It's not that I want people to see my mug-shot; I just want people to buy the book.

At the same time, Sarah the Publisher has been in touch to let me know that the manager of a consortium she went to yesterday to high-light Yucketypoo has sent info to 1000 companies in the Midlands! And she emailed me a link of an Eco-kids site that has given it some coverage. Well - as Tesco would say - every little helps. The more publicity we can get the quicker the orders come in and the sooner we can go to print.

Talking of Tesco; it was where I met Hubby almost 25 years ago when we both started work at a brand new superstore (one of the first of its kind evidently). His 25th anniversary with them was yesterday. The company honour long servers with a gift and a scroll, neither of which he has received yet although I am sure it is on the cards. This connection has convinced me that the company would be interested in Yucketypoo and both Sarah the Publisher and I are trying to get them to pick it up - me from a former-employee point of view and she from a Publisher/Publicity Manager point of view. If just one copy of the book was bought by every single branch of the mammoth supermarket we could go to print tomorrow. Ironic really. If it comes off as we hope then I'll have two things to thanks them for - the main one being my Steve whom I love more every second.

Even after all the tears, tantrums, hard work and sheer gut instinct of the past year, it really looks as if the book is on its way, now.

So I'd better get Yuck 2 finished ASAP!

THE GREAT STORM - and a little book...

2007-10-17T01:13:00.000-07:00

I am writing this twenty years after the Great Storm. I take it you recall the devasation left in the wake of 110 mph winds over night on 16 October 1987? I was living in a flat at the time and I can remember waking up to an England that had the feeling of a post-apocolyptic meltdown!

There was no power, no phones, roads blocked with hundreds of fallen trees, over-turned and crushed cars and a veritable blizzard of fallen roof tiles. I couldn't get to work that day and the damage was rife throughout the South/South East. It is only now, two decades on, with all the media attention marking the anniversary of it, that you can really see how catasrophic it was for these islands! Small-fry to be sure to the likes of Florida who live with the constant threat of Hurricanes. But it was huge to us because such destructive forces of weather are so rarely seen here.

The funny thing today is that last night, I slept through torrential rain and didn't actually wake up until the alarm went off at 6am! That's unusal for me; I normally wake up at least once a night, often around 3.30am and then find it is the one time of day that my brain goes into active overdrive thus preventing a return to sleep for at least a further hour! But severeal people have said this morning that they'd been woken in the night by the rain so I must have been completely out of it!

You might be interested to know that the demons have been lain and the brand new second book is finally finished. I know now what went wrong. It is a shame it took me eight months of blood, sweat and tears to realise it. I made a mistake right from the start. Because the first book is a story told through poems I naturally thought I should tackle the second book the same way. Disaster! I sat down on Sunday night and wrote it in prose in two and a half hours! Understood then that the second book didn't want to be poems, it wanted to be a story! Now that the first draft is written (in fact it is about the eighth draft but it is the first draft of it as a story), I just need to go through it, tidy it up and finish it off and I can finally send it through to Sarah the Publisher. Thank God - because I almost had a fit the other day when I went onto Amazon and saw that the proposed publication dates for books 2 and 3 in the series is February 2008!

Have finally had some media response to the arrival of the first book. Ashley the Illustrator and I were photographed yesterday by one of the local papers who want to run a story on it in this Friday's issue. A second local paper finally acknowledged they'd received the Press Pack and are supposed to be calling me today to let me know if they want to feature it. I have also sent the Press Pack out to various TV shows and a couple of the national papers. I will keep at them until one of them picks it up. This book is a milestone in children's fiction! It raises environment awareness which is just so, so 'in' at the moment. To my knowledge there are only three of four other books that tackle green issues for children and that this is possibly the first to tackle it for children this young.

At least Candis magazine is featuring it in the December issue as this year's MUST-BUY Christmas stocking filler. I must admit the e-format looks pretty good. We received our copy on Monday. I printed it off (on recycled paper) and secured it with a slide-binder. I actually have a book now; my book. It will be even better when it is produced as a paperback but this is good enough for me at this moment in time because, after over forty years, I was holding my own book in my own hands!

It really was quite the most delicious moment!

MAN FLU FOR WOMEN

2007-10-12T06:07:00.000-07:00

I am not feeling well today. I felt quite headachey and feverish all yesterday afternoon and by seven o'clock last night this had developed into the most horrendous stiff neck you can imagine. I went to bed around 10pm but it was damn near impossible to find a comfortable position to sleep in, despite the fact I'd smothered the affected area in ralgex! I eventually drifted off but it was no better by the time I got up this morning so I have been taking strong ibuprofen in an effort to ward it off. It recommends two tablets every four hours and I took my first dose at eight this morning. By twelve my neck was screaming out in pain again. Do these tablets have a miniscule four-hour timer in them?

The fact I am under the weather may explain why I was so grouchy last time I wrote. It is so unusual for me to get grouchy that I should know by now that if I am displaying behaviour of the grouchy kind, it usually means I am going down with something. Another sure sign is the fact that my hands go red hot, and I've got them as well so I should have just braced myself.

The infuriating thing is that Hubby and I have got a concert to go to tomorrow (Queen tribute). Just how am I going to clap my hands during Radio GaGa if my neck protests loudly at every jerky move no matter how slight? Even swallowing was agony earlier! And I promised Hubby dinner out this evening because it's been three weeks since his birthday and, apart from a card, he's had nothing else from me to celebrate (although this is largely due to the fact we were sure we'd find something in Scotland that would make a suitable gift and we didn't - but then we were out in the sticks so maybe I shouldn't be surprised). If I take a dose of pills just before I head off home, hopefully I'll be okay for eating out. Fingers crossed anyway.

Maybe the fact I'm a bit poorly also explains how I came to seriously piss off my publisher yesterday? I wouldn't say we fell out because we both know there's too much at stake, but a heated email exchange did take place. Any other writers out there - is this a common occurrance? Answers on a postcard please.

The good news is that, after repeated attempts, the local paper has finally picked up about the book and want to run a profile in next week's paper. Maybe Paul O'Grady, This Morning and Metro will pick up on it next?

And maybe women suffer from Man-flu too?

DANGER - DO NOT READ.....

2007-10-09T00:34:00.000-07:00

I am feeling rather out of sorts today. I don't really know why either. I am having mega-mega problems with the second book which is what started it all off and I have, for the last 48 hours felt completely surplus to the world; as if I don't belong here. Nobody really needs me; they only think they do, so just what is the purpose of my being?

If you'd have seen me Sunday night, you'd have probably laughed! It must have looked incredibly funny as I sat in the study working on the second book. Ball after ball of paper piled up in and around the bin. I kept leaning back, exasperated, in my chair, head in hands. Then I'd stoop forward again, scribble a few words, cross them out, scribble a few more, cross them out, then, finally, another paper missile would whistle in the general direction of the bin in the corner. After three self-destructing hours I stormed out of the study, slamming the door, shouted at Cat because she almost tripped me up at the top of the stairs, skulked in the living room, shouted at Cat for trying to reach the tiniest corner in the house again. I was a horrible, soul-destroyed, stereo-typical writing diva, so it was lucky Hubby was working. Lucky for him.
Lucky for the whole world really, the mood I was in! Cat and I have made up now, of course.
She has the patience of a saint with her unpredictable mistress.

The weird thing is that I simply cannot blame my hormones for this mood. I was one of the lucky few to never suffer PMT and I haven't had a hot flush in weeks and weeks, now. So it's purely artistic temperament that turns me from happy-go-lucky-the-world-is-my-oyster writer to Incredible Skulk in ten seconds flat.

Sensible Inner Me knows this will pass and that the second book will be brilliant because of it. But riding the storm in the mean time is pretty rough. I can definitely feel a Chocolate fix coming on!

IS THIS THE SHAPE OF THINGS TO COME?

2007-10-05T04:36:00.000-07:00

Further to my excited blog yesterday, I have just been on Smooth FM - not promoting the book this time (though I did send them a Press Pack earlier today) - but because I requested Peter Sarstedt's beautiful song 'Where Do You Go To My Lovely?' and they decided to talk to me live about it. This is the second time I've been on Smooth following a request (the first was for Neil Diamond's 'Hello' which was 'our' song at our wedding) and I must admit it was much easier this time.

I am, of course, hoping that this bodes well for the future so fingers crossed.

I just have to hope that I don't get a 'senior' moment when my first interview comes along.

Catch you later.

IT IS REALLY HAPPENING!!

2007-10-04T13:23:00.001-07:00

Hello again everyone. I am just bursting to tell you all my great news! Not only is the publication of the first book coming together brilliantly but someone has already suggested it could work well as a TV series or animated film. I am so exhilerated I can hardly think! The daft thing is that whilst all this is going on, I am still struggling to finalise the second book. And on top of all this, I have actually tempted a Literary Agent to consider taking me on. That in itself is amazing since I have been trying since I was 12 to get one to take me seriously. I will of course keep you posted on any developments and I hope you will forgive my enthusiastic outburst. Some things are just meant to be shared! I will come back in a day or two. Thanks for reading.

Whoever said Life Begins At Fifty may have got it right after all!

CAN CATS GET SENILE DEMENTIA?

2007-10-03T00:33:00.000-07:00

Here we are - back from our amazing trip to the Outer Hebrides. Honestly, you have to see these islands to believe them! They are incredibly remote and rustic. The houses are set out randomly, mostly single storey, all facing different directions and often a couple of hundred metres or more from their nearest neighbour. And that neighbour could be half way up a mountain or on the opposite side of a loch. To give you a better insight into these and help you put them into perspective, we were told that 29,000 people inhabit the islands as a whole. That sounds like a lot. Until you realise that 2,000000 people inhabit the borough of Croydon and in excess of 6,000000 inhabit Greater London. When we reached North Uist a small boy boarded our coach outside the hotel and introduced himself as John. When asked by one of my fellow travellers whether there were any shops, young John replied enthusiastically "Loads. There's a Spar that way and the Co-op that way." Then he beamed proudly as we gave him a standing ovation. It really gives you an idea of how it must be for these people. Their island is their whole world. During our tour we saw mobile libraries, banks and even a rolling cinema. There is just one ice cream van to serve all the islands - and we visited ten during our fortnight there.

We were incredibly lucky with the weather considering how late in the season we went. If it rained at all it was, considerately overnight or whilst we were on the coach. A couple of days even saw us walking in the sun. Not bikini-sun but no-jacket-required-sun, which suited Hubby and I fine since neither of us are sun-chasers. There was a wealth of characters in our party of 38, too. Like Gurning Man, Big-Hair Lady, Ray'n'Rosemary and Canada-Lady, to name but a few. Then there was Eddie our driver who is also a writer, so he and I had a lot of common ground and became good buddies.`

For all the fact we had such a great time and a lovely break, were overfed and swamped with so much fresh clean air we felt almost drunk. it was still lovely to get home. The cat was extremely pleased to see us, twirling and howling around our legs as if we'd been gone a year at least. She then followed me round the house almost continuously for the next three days, including into the loo. My theory is that she thought I'd disappear again if I was out of her line of vision for anything more than ten seconds. By the Monday just gone she had obviously realised I was back and decided now was the time to punish me for abandoning her in the first place. She was almost as remote as the Outer Hebrides for the next 24 hours, acknowledging my presence only with a chilling glare from across the room before turning tail and strutting off with her nose in the air. Thankfully by last night we were back on our usual terms, although she is still showing some signs of bizarre behaviour which made me wonder of cats can suffer from Feline Dementia.

Around 8pm yesterday evening, she maneauvred herself into the tightest, tiniest corner of the living room, behind the TV/DVD/SKY BOX stand, then sat there as if she'd conquered the Cairn Gorm at the very least. It was such a tight spot though that she couldn't get out so had, in effect, got herself trapped. I had to move one of the surround-sound tower speakers to free her. I later found her sleeping on the doormat inside the garden door - possibly the draftiest place in the house. And I have noticed how, on the odd occasion, she appears to have a momentary lapse of concentration as she daintily licks her paw, sitting in a pose that would do any pointer dog proud, with an almost dreamy expression on her face. Mind you she is 17 years old in human terms ( and 85 in cat terms) so I suppose I shouldn't worry. Not too much anyway. Is there a vet in the house by any chance?

GRUMPY OLD WRITER...

2007-09-13T07:00:00.000-07:00

I have decided that being in a full time job when you would rather be at home writing is a specific kind of purgatory! My job is getting worse by the day and wears me out emotionally and physically.Every moment spent there, feels like another wasted moment, and each one of those carries the weight of all the other wasted moments. By the end of every day, I am wrecked! Not a pretty sight on the best of days, I can tell you!

Things are happening. Two days ago, I received a copy of the press release that Sarah the Publisher is going to release shortly about the first book. And yesterday, I was contacted by the editor of an ezine called My Pet Friends asking me if I was still interested in contributing as it had been some weeks since I first expressed an interest in doing so and hadn't been back in touch. I have another publisher interested in some inspirational poetry who has suggested I put a collection together. All of this takes time and time is what I am so sadly lacking in on a day to day basis. This blog is a good example of what I mean. When I started it a few weeks back, my intention had been to write every day - but you can see from the eratic state of the dates that it has only been a couple of times a week. Although - BIG round of applause here please AND a roll of drums - I am actually writing this on my laptop at home at ten in the evening rather than squeezng it into my lunchbreak at the office. So it looks like I got that right last week even if I got everything else wrong.

On Monday next week, Hubby and I are off to the north-western isles of Scotland for a two week break. We are doing a coach and ferry tour which takes in a four or five of the islands, so this will be my last blog till I get back. One thing I am planning to do, is to get more organised when we return. I am going to move the ancient, giganticus computer I bought in the year 2000 into Hubby's hobby room, which is where the home office is already based, so that my desk here in Successful Writer's Study is less cluttered. I am going to get my head down and get the next book in the series written for Sarah the Publisher and then, maybe in the new year, I can look at cutting my hours down - because working less hours would better than working full time and writing whenever I get a spare second (at the moment, I am writing at bus stops, on trams, first thing in the mornng or well into the night and still finding it is not long enough to do everything else).

I also want to do a lot more talks next year at schools, writing circles and clubs, and to do that I need to sell mself (not on street corners obviously- per-lease, I'm fifty!) and get myself more into the public domain. So any other writers (or readers) logging on, take note. I am an experienced speaker and I am never happier than when talkng about my beloved writing.

Unless I am complaining about being cooped up in a stuffy office day after day, geting grief from almost everywhere and feeling like a moth trapped in a jar, of course. I quite like grouching about that.

Maybe there is something in being a grumpy old woman, after all. Now - where's my sacred bar of Greens Maya Gold .....

LIFE ACCORDING TO LILY

2007-09-11T00:17:00.001-07:00

I seriously think I am over the worst. Yes, dear Reader (as writers of yore would say), I think I am a Changed woman. I am down to less than two hot flushes a day where I used to get four or five an hour. In fact I don't think I had a single one yeterday and I somehow feel different; better in myself than I have for ages and full of the joys of ... something. Of course none of this detracts from the fact that I am still forgetful, easily confused and left standing at the door of the fridge wondering what I'd gone there for. But that will all settle down in time, I am sure of it. Or almost sure.

Last night at eight o'clock, I went to visit my neighbour. Lily is 91 years old and getting smaller by the day. I doubt if she is more than five feet tall and weighs much more than six stone and she is almost totally deaf but I absolutely love her. I am still not sure how the weekly visit thing came about. I only know that since we moved in next door to her, I have gone in every Monday night for a visit. Long long ago, I'd go in at quarter to nine and stay for an hour. But she was hospitalised for months last year and in the process, became quite institutionalised as well; putting herself to bed at seven in the evening because that is what time the nurses tuck their senior patients up for the night. It has only really been the last six weeks or so that the Monday night visit has started up again but now they are from 8pm until 8.45pm - then I go home and she goes to bed.

Lily is an amazing woman! She has two daughters and a lot of support from them, friends and family members, and although she can't actually do a lot for herself these days, she has always got plenty to say. About everything. And that forty-five minutes is soon taken up with her tales. "Once," she told me. "I gave Ken (husband) bubble and squeak for dinner on Monday. 'What's this?' he wants to know. I say 'It's bubble and squeak.' 'I'm not eating that!' he says." For dessert that same day, she did bread and butter pudding and custard. "I gave it to him," she told me. "And he says 'What's this?' 'It's bread and butter pudding!' I told him. He says ' I'm not eating that!' " So she threw the custard over his head. A whole jugful of it. Every last drop of it. Needless to say he never complained about his food again.

Lily is full of anecdotes like this. There was the time her (then) eleven year old daughter took the milk float for a joy ride around the green. And the time she had a midnight picnic on Mitcham Common with her boyfriend of the time. And, when she worked at Paynes Poppets, there was the time that she and a colleague filled dozens of packs of lemon jelly with orange jelly by mistake. She once even offered to share her pack of night-time incontinence pads with me. But I politely declined. Even I haven't quite got to that stage yet!

In fact there isn't a lot I don't know about The Life and Times of Lily now but the strange thing is that I never tire of listening to her. She's a terrible flirt! She is. She would have the boys queuing up for miles if she wasn't so loyal to her late husband. A particular favourite of hers is Jeremy Paxman. Don't ask me why. And when I leave on a Monday evening she says to me "Kisses for Steve!" "How many this week?" I ask her. If she's in a good mood, she says "Two!" And I duly pass them on to Hubby when he gets home. "Be good!" I say to her as I wave cheerio. "No fun in being good !" she tells me, with a twinkle in her eyes that defies her age.

And that's my Lily. I hope I have got half her spirit and zest for living when I get to her age. Ah well - I have forty one years in which to practice!

WHAT A DIFFERENCE A DAY MADE....

2007-09-07T00:13:00.000-07:00

It has surely been a 24 hours of huge change! Yesterday, within five minutes of getting to the office the MD came round to say goodbye to everyone as he had resigned with immediate effect. I now know a few had kind of suspected it was going to happen but most of us were left reeling in shock. Such a nice guy too!

Met Mother for lunch yesterday and she told me she is definitely going to be moving to West Sussex next year to be nearer Middle and Youngest Sister. So who will I meet for lunch once a week, then?

And to top it all off Sarah the Publisher and I have had a long talk about the second book and decided it needs a complete re-write. She wants the third story I had planned for the series to form the basis of the second story and says we'll think about the third one in the new year. This is actually good news for me because I wasn't a hundred per cent happy with the third draft of the second book either (confused? You will be!) and this way I can have a bit of breathing space. So the idea is that I concentrate on making the second book totally brilliant and Sarah concentrates on pushing the first one into the public eye. All this in 24 hours! I am not sure if I can keep the pace!

Other good news is that Pregnant Colleague referred to in the first post has had a baby boy whom they are going to name Matthew, Engaged Colleague is now Other Other Married Colleague who is honeymooning in Singapore and Middle-Aged Me has defied all odds and finally sorted out the home internet and emails - and I did it without the help of Clever Son-In-Law. All this must bode well for the weekend......

CLOSET PUBLICIST STRIKES AGAIN

2007-09-04T23:44:00.000-07:00

Had one of our early morning coffees today!. Fell out of bed at 5.15, left the house at 5.40 and met Hubby outside East Croydon at 6.00. The things we do for love!

During the course of the next hour Hubby became almost maniacal about the Book - the first in the series - and what we should do to sell it. He thinks we are letting too many opportunities slip through our fingers. Between us we made a gigantic list of who we could contact and I reckon that just from these contacts alone , we could sell at least half of the number Sarah the Puiblisher says we need to justify a print run. At one point he said to me "Surely this is the publisher's job?" and I completely agree. So the plan today is to contact Sarah the Publisher. Should we even be thinking about the two sequels before we sell the first one? I don't know enough about publishing, that is half the problem. I know lots about being a writer. But I must admit he had some very valid points and I do feel some action needs to be taken. Especially now the book can be also pre-ordered through W H Smith and Amazon! In the meantime - please go, this instant, to http://www.yucketypoo.co.uk/ and click on the Order button. The print edition costs just £5.95 and 10% of every copy sold goes to the CLIC-Sargeant charity which cares for children and young people with cancer. What's more tell everyone you know to order it as well! Please, please, please. I will even sign them if you want me to. I am not sure how but I am sure we could find a way

And now I have got that off my chest (I am truly fired-up today and it is still only 8 am - blame Hubby for being my closet publicist!), I can move on.

I have a question - is being a bag of nerves all part of being menopausal? I ask this because I keep getting panic attacks and feelings of complete inadequacy where, before, I have always been very calm, cool, collect and level-headed. I almost gave myself a coronary yesterday when it looked for a moment as if a huge furniture order I had overseen for one of the reps at the Day Job
had gone missing. I mean I felt physically sick. I was almost light-headed. Yet I knew I had put it through so there was no way it could have gone missing. As it turned out, the goods were at another depot so I needn't have wasted so much nervous energy worrying. A few years ago I wouldn't have done. I'd have found Logical Self and sorted the whole thing out in twenty seconds flat. Answers in a postcard please.

Got a pleasant surprise earlier when I found that my personal profile here on Blogspot had been viewed almost 30 times. I am only responsible for half a dozen of those, so someone somewhere is reading this. Please don't be shy - get in touch. Let's do lunch.

BATH TIME AND BEYOND

2007-08-31T05:05:00.001-07:00

I was lazing on the sofa last night with Cat snoozing on my chest when she suddenly did a humungous sneeze and showered me in cat-snot! It went in my eyes, up my nose - everywhere. I moved her off in some disgust - although to be fair to her, she couldn't help it - and immediately felt my eyes puffing up and nose clogging. I head straight for the anti-histimines (being the sensitive soul I am I take one of these a day and keep boxfuls in the first aid cupboard for most of the year) and took one, but by then the damage was done and I suffered for the rest of the evening. My right eye is still a bit puffy today but I haven't broken out in hives or anything so the antihistimine must have done some good, after all.

I realise today that I have not been back and written since I mentioned finding myself in a dense black wood all on my own in the middle of the night in Batheaston last Friday. Obviously when I called for Hubby, his voice floated back from a few feet down the tiny path. "You might have waited for me!" I grouched as I fought my way through to join him. "I thought you were right behind me," he grouched back. We stood amongst the trees, moonlight totally obscured. "Well there's nothing here," Hubby muttered. "Let's go back to the hotel."

Over the rest of the weekend, we saw as much of Bath as we could and it really is a beautiful place. The Roman Baths, Abbey and historic town itself is well worth the visit and we managed to fit in two city bus tours in open-top buses and two trips down the river, as well as the Jane Austin Centre and the Museum of Bath Work. In fact we did so much that by the time we limped home on Monday evening, we felt as if we'd been away for a week at least and sat down to a take-away Chinese for dinner.

Tuesday dawned and it was back to earth with a bit of a bang. Sarah the Publisher had asked me to take another look at the second story book; it wasn't quite what she had expected and she felt it needed more. It is Friday now and it has taken me all week to re-draft it and get it back to her. The third one is due by the end of September and I haven't even started on it yet. The situation is not helped by the fact that I simply cannot get my new Sky broadband box up and running. The first one arrived six weeks ago and I noticed I was having problems with it right from the beginning. At first I couldn't get the new email addresses set up, and then, when I did manage it, we found we could send emails but not receive them. We eventually (with the help of Clever Son-In-Law) got onto the internet but then I noticed that had gone as well. Dozens of phonecalls later, Sky decided I had a faulty Broadband box and sent me a new one but when I tried connecting that up on Tuesday just gone - what a surprise - no email, no internet. Not only is this frustrating and infuriating, it means that I can only email from the office during my lunch-breaks and if I get into the office early (even this blog is being written during my lunch-break!) - which is not good when you are a writer! So I have written one of my Very Angry Letters and told Sky to either refund my £40.00 connection fee immediately so that I can go elsewhere, or fix the problem for once and for all. It isn't the computer, which is a lap top less than eight months old, so it has to be down to Sky! Anyway - we shall see.

Have a busy weekend coming up. On Saturday, Hubby and I are going to Engaged Colleague's wedding in East Grinstead - our sixth wedding this year, so out will come the wedding outfits. Again. And on Sunday we have a particularly gigantic hedge to cut back (what fun!).

Unless Sky can sort themselves out, lucky you won't have to put up with my ramblings until Monday next week.

And by the way - my hot flushes have receded. Am I Over The Worst? Or is The Worst yet to come?

Better go - lunch-break ends in thirty seconds .....

BATH TIME

2007-08-28T02:39:00.000-07:00

Have just returned from a gorgeous bank holiday weekend in Bath down in Somerset. Can't believe how lucky we were with the weather either. In the words of one of Bath's most famous daughters - novelist Jane Austin - What Can One Make Of Bath? Well - when One and One's Hubby disembarked the coach at Bath Spa Bus Station at around 6pm on Friday evening - it looked like we'd dropped into the middle of a giant building site, as the area just outside the town centre undergoes some major renovation work. We could have let that cloud our vision, but being the Nice People we are, we decided to look beyond the rubble and not allow ourselves to be prejudiced. This confidence was knocked however when a cab driver charged us almost £9.00 to get to the Old Mill Hotel in Batheaston instead of the £6.00 we had been told it would cost. Still, this was our first weekend away for some time and we were determined to make the most of it, so we let that go as well.

The hotel itself is lovely. It is on the bank of the River Avon, surrounded by hills and fields and has views to die for; though we also let pass the fact that we didn't actually get the room with the river view we had asked for, and settled for our room with the Car Park view instead, because this was our first weekend away for some time and we were determined to make the most of it (!).

Having unpacked, freshened up and changed, we went down to the dining room for the one evening meal we had booked at the hotel itself. We were seated on a tiny table for two in the corner overlooking the hotel's picturesque garden, with its weeping willows and enormous mill wheel that still turns. We noticed a wedding going on and watched the proceedings as we waited for our meals. When the waiter brought my Vegetable Wellington over he mentioned that the plate was warm. Still watching a particularly sweet little bridesmaid, I went to move it slightly aside in order to reach the salt and pepper and was so shocked by its searing heat that I yelped. And sent my fork flying across the carpet in a fair imitation the late Concord. One's Hubby was not amused! And he was even less amused when I collapsed in a giggling heap.

Giggles aside, we enjoyed the meal and decided to round off the evening with a quiet drink in the bar. No chance. The majority of the wedding guests had spilled out of their banqueting suite and into the bar and we felt decidely out of place as we hunched in a corner with our budweisers. This was Wedding Crashers with a touch of Elephant Man as we felt numorous questioning glances being thrown our way. "Let's go for a nice walk," Hubby suggested as we finished our beers too fast and put ourselves at risk of severe hiccups. After all this was our first weekend away for some time and we were determined to make the most of it (!!).

The Old Mill is quite rurally situated so there was not a huge amount we could do once we left the bar but as we walked, we saw a shooting star (so romantic) and, just down the road, we found a little over-hung path and clambered over the stile. Venturing into a vaccuum of darkness, we stuck closely together and, for some reason, spoke in whispers. After a while we could hear the weir on the other side of the trees. We didn't want to risk falling in and going for an unscheduled drown so we turned round to head back. "Oooh look," said Hubby. "There's another path." This one was even tinier and I felt a little bit alarmed - not a Psycho/Slasher/Watcher In The Woods kind of alarm, you understand; more a fall-down-break-ankle-end-up-in-hospital alarm.

Hubby stood like a Great Explorer at the mouth of the Amazon between two rather squat bushes. "Let's have a look ..." he said. "I'll light the way with the camera," I said in a moment of pure brilliance and held the camera up so that the little red light that heralds a flash made the path at least slightly vivible. "Damn it!" I muttered as the flash went off. "That wasn't meant to happen." I decided to turn it off; we'd just have to manage. I scrabbled in the dark to press the button and looked back up a moment later to find that Hubby - who just moments before had been inches in front of me - was now nowhere to be seen! Suddenly it did feel very Psycho/Slasher/Watcher In The Woods- ish and I was frozen with terror. "Steve," I squeaked. "Where are you?"
To Be Continued

DEEP PURPOSEFUL PLAN

2007-08-23T00:01:00.000-07:00

At the beginning of 2007, once the contract for the book had been finalised and it was Action Stations, Hubby announced I needed to make my study more user-friendly. The study I had was fine but disorganised and that could not be the case for the New Successful Writer, he decreed. Over the course of the next couple of months, some subtle changes were made. Hubby took the old desk and chair and bought me nice smart new ones. We visited the local Second Hand Office Furniture store and bought two filing cabinets. My day job is with an office supplies company so we bought new suspension files, new pen holders, new letter trays etcetera etcetera etcetera. By March I had a good, New Successful Writer's study complete with a new laptop and a CD player so that the New Successful Writer can listen to appropriate New Age Music, Simon & Garfunkle, Cat Stevens and All Angels cds as she writes. No female writer could ask for a more supportive and confident husband.

Why then did I last night go up to the study and fill my arms with notebooks, pencils, erasers, sharpeners and other paraphernalia and head downstairs to write in the living room? I mean Hello! Half way down, with enough gunk to climb Everest piled up in my arms, I came to my senses and thought What am I doing? All that time, money, effort and planning spent on the New Successful Writer's study and I was struggling to get to the living room?

I promptly did an about turn and head back to the study. I rearranged the desk to make some space, opened the window to let in some air, sipped on my Diet Ginger Beer and put on my writer's head. An hour and a half later, I had some pretty thorough notes to work from for the third and final book in the series, having emailed the second one over to Sarah The Publisher by the end of last week. Now I just need to actually write the third one. My deadline is 16th September which is just over three weeks away. I know I can do it. I have no choice. It is what being a writer is all about. I think.

Woke up this morning brimming with new ideas for the new story. Met night-worker Hubby for coffee at Costa's at East Croydon. We treat ourselves to this once (and occasionally twice) a week because, believe it or not, we actually get to spend more time together. Look at it this way - if we don't meet for coffee, Hubby gets in by 6am which is when I am falling out of bed. He is getting undressed as I am getting dressed then we sit down to cerial and toast at about 6.30, Hubby goes up the wooden hill to Dreamland at about 7am and I have actually seen him for all of half an hour. If we do meet for coffee we are walking into Costa's at 6.05 and we then stay there till around 7 - almost an hour! So you see there is a method to our Morning Madness! Plus we both like Costa's coffee.

After he'd head off home and I was making my way to the office, I suddenly asked myself the real Crunch Question. What happens when the third and final book is complete? Then came the even bigger question. What happens with the rest of my Life? I need a plan, I told myself. I need to set myself a goal. So here it is - the goal. To be able to give up work and write full time within one year of today.

And now I think I need a strong black coffee.......again.

SLUGGING IT OUT

2007-08-22T00:05:00.000-07:00

On my way into the office this morning (okay - so I am not a full-time writer as much as I'd like to be), a guy on the pavement in front of me bent down to do up his shoe-lace. When he stood up again he only just avoided walking into a lamp-post, ducking sideways and letting out a yelp of terror as his hair brushed against the metal. He shot me a filthy look when I laughed out loud but I couldn't help it. It was so ... so Norman Wisdom! He jogged to catch up with his mate, who was none the wiser, and stole one final look of sheer dislike over his shoulder at me before they turned the corner. He couldn't have known I wasn't actually laughing at the fact he had almost brained himself on a lamp-post he had failed to see despite its size. I was just so relieved that it isn't just Ladies of Mature Years that do such things. A few months ago I actually winded myself walking into a set of railings outside the local park - railings I have walked past hundreds, even thousands, of times and never had a problem with. That night though, they caught me squarely in the solar plexus and I literally reeled as if I'd been hit by a sledge-hammer at the very least. It isn't just me then, I thought and continued to giggle all the way to work.

When I was thinking about what to write in my blog today, I found myself recalling how, only yesterday, I took it upon myself to feed a couple of slugs in my back garden. Hubby thinks I am quite odd because I talk with our cat, apologise to spiders and refuse to kill anything that flies into our home be it a wasp, damsel fly, dragon fly, moth or bumble bee. I can't help it. I have a healthy respect for everything living. But I am not sure I will tell him about the slugs. I think even he, for all the fact he loves and indulges me, would question my motives. It is simple really. We have a proper feeding station installed in our garden because we see so many species of birds there and have both become closet Twitchers. We also have a squirrel I have nicknamed Houdini because of the way he contorts himself to get into squirrel-proof bird-feeders in order to secure his breakfast.

Yesterday morning, I noticed as I went into the garden (or should that be out to the garden?), that there were two slugs on the patio attacking the little weeds that have spung up between the paving slabs. Do they know what a favour they are doing us on that patio? It will save Hubby or I having to get out the strimmer - at least for a little while. Anyway, I was amazed out how one of the slugs was standing upright (yes you read that right, it was standing upright) in order to reach the top of the weed it was attacking. It reminded me of a giraffe and I thought that it must take some doing to stand upright like that when you have no backbone to help you! That must one hungry slug! So I went into the kitchen, pulled out a little grape from the bunch on the shelf, cut into bits and put them down near the slugs. Then, with a writer's curiosity, I watched to see how they'd react. At first their little antennae withdrew whenever they touched these cold wet objects suddenly blocking their path. It did not take them long to realise, however, that the objects were sweet manna from Heaven (well from me anyway, though they'd never know of course) and I actually felt quite satsified as they chomped their way through (surprisingly quickly) before attacking the weeds with renewed relish. I make no apologies for my nurturing nature - after all they didn't ask to be born slugs! Still, maybe I shouldn't mention it to Hubby; he indulges me in most of my whims (bless him) but I think even he would draw the line at my tendency to Adopt-A-Mollusc...........

STORM IN A COFFEE CUP? PART TWO

2007-08-21T00:19:00.000-07:00

At five past six, we came out of Green Park tube. Youngest Sister looked around. "We'd better get a cab because we don't know how close it is,"she said decisively. "It's there!" exclaimed Middle Sister pointing to a big glitzy sign which proclaimed The Ritz. And there it was. Right next door! I have only lived near London for my whole life! Surely I should have known where The Ritz is in relation to Green Park tube station? I felt a flush of shame at not knowing my capital city better but excused myself by conceding how rarely I actually venture there. "Okay, forget the cab." said Youngest Sister. "We're over an hour early," I said. "Shall we find a coffee shop or something?" We walked past The Ritz and stood on the corner. "There's a Caffe Nero over there," I said. We crossed the road to the island and waited for some time for the traffic to clear so that we could get to Nero's. "There's a Pret A Manger over there," I said in a bored voice as another stream of vehicles streamed by, so we turned full circle, crossed back and went into Pret. "Two teas and two coffees, please, one black, one white," I said at the counter as I fished around in my purse for my Loyalty Card. "That's five pounds, please," said the server. I handed him the money and the loyalty card. He took the money but looked at the Loyalty card with suspicion. Oh yeah, I thought to myself, we're right next to the Ritz. Maybe they don't do loyalty cards here? "Don't you stamp the loyalty cards here?" I asked. He handed it back. "Not if they're Nero's, no," he replied. Damn! In the space of two minutes I had forgotten we'd abandoned Nero's and invaded Pret. "Of course you don't!" I said pleasantly as if he must get scatter-brains like me coming into Pret and offering a Nero loyalty card every day. He made a noise. I think it was a chuckle disguised as a cough and I picked up the tray and walked nonchalantly over to the table where Mother and Two Sisters were waiting.

We spent the next hour talking about nothing in particular (as us girls can!) and at quarter past seven we upped sticks and went to The Ritz. This was it! Our two hours as Ladies of Gentility were about to begin. We were shown in and swallowed whole by the cathedral-like foyer, all gilt walls, arches and spotless carpets. We made a bee-line for the Ladies. This was really living! Proper little individual hand-towels (none of your paper rubbish for this place!), wall to wall mirrors and a little sofa. Mother came out of her cubicle and washed and dried her hands. "There's hand-lotion in there,! I told her, indicating a bottle with a squeezy top. "I thought that was the was the soap," she said, towelling her hands even more vigorously.

We went back up to the main foyer and were approached by a man in a dinner jacket. "Name please?" he asked. Youngest Sister told him. "Do you have your voucher?" She handed him the pink slip that had been paid for by our sixteen to twenty-three year olds and he showed us to a table. It was SO nice! Very calm and relaxed with a grand-piano tinkling gently in the background and the little sandwiches, warm scones and itty-bitty pastries were wonderful. Mother dropped her table napkin on the floor and there was a moment of panic when we were asked to pay, but this was soon sorted out and we were each given another £15.00 glass of complimentary champagne by way of an apology. "It could only happen to us," Youngest Sister mused as the waiter bowed us out and I reached for my trusty portable fan.

STORM IN A COFFEE CUP?

2007-08-20T00:06:00.000-07:00

Went for tea at the Ritz on Saturday night. Stop smirking! T'is true! Last Christmas, the four oldest children in my side of the family had bought it as a gift for Mother, Two Sisters and Self. It seemed such a long time in the future on Christmas Day 2006 , then suddenly it was the Next Day and I still had no idea what to wear. A couple of weeks before, Mother had informed me with all the grave seriousness of a judge pronouncing sentence that Jeans and Trainers WERE NOT PERMITTED. The teenage rebel that lies dormant in my fifty year old body strongly resented being told what I couldn't wear and I decided there and then to wear Jeans and Trainers. That was fine two weeks ago but by last Friday it had dawned on me that maybe I should re-consider. Only for the sake of my generous nieces and nephews you understand; not because the Dormant Teenage Rebel had had a change of heart. It just occured to me that I might be a tinsey bit embarrassed if, outside the gilt doors of London's poshest hotel, I got turned away whilst Mother and Two Sisters went in and lived the high-life - even if it was only for a couple of hours.

On the Friday, whilst finalising all the arrangements with Youngest Sister, I was reliably informed that she, Middle Sister and Mother were all wearing skirts and jackets and posh shoes. "What about you?" Youngest Sister asked. Dormant Teenage Rebel within screamed defiantly "I'll be there in my jeans and trainers ALL RIGHT!!!". Mature, responsible Inner Self replied "Oh I have some smart black trousers and a smart white top so I'll wear those." "I might wear trousers if it keeps raining, actually," said Youngest Sister. "Me too," responded Mother in background. "See you around 5 o'clock then," I said.

Saturday morning dawned overcast and threatening rain. "What time are you going to start getting ready?" asked Hubby mid-morning. "Oh, about three-ish I suppose," I replied. On the dot of three, I went upstairs and had a shower. I was towelling myself vigorously afterwards when hubby called up the stairs "Sarah's on the phone. D'you want to take it up there?" Sarah is the publisher who has taken on the burden of presenting my first childrens' book to the world.
"Yeah I'll take it up here," I called in reply. Swaddled in towels I traipsed from the bathroom to the bedroom and lifted the phone. Hung up over half an hour later. It was now quarter to four and I was meant to be leaving in less than an hour. And I still wasn't sure what I wanted to wear. At just before four the phone rang again. It was Youngest Sister. "We're just leaving. See you at East Croydon in about an hour." I decided now might be a good time to go and look in the wardrobe.

At half past four, dressed in Smart Black Trousers and Smart White Top, I left home. Mother and Two Sisters were on the Victoria train so said they'd wave at me from the train as it pulled in so that I would know to jump aboard. The train pulled in at ten past five and no amount of scrutiny revealed where on the train they were. Suddely I spotted Middle Sister running up the platform waving frantically. "Get on. get ON!" she screeched. I tried. The doors wouldn't open. I glanced desperately along the platform. Middle Sister had vanished. Oh God! Now the guard was blowing the whistle. "Stop. Stop." I screamed frantically pushing the button. "Let me on. Open this door! I am meeting people on this train! Two carriages down the doors opened and Middle Sister hung out. "Come ON!" she howled. I ran down the platform and leapt on just as the guard blew his whistle for the final time and the train jolted into motion.

I followed Middle Sister several carriages down through air that was blue from my swearing and finally sank into seat next to Mother. Not only was I stressed out, I was having a real hum-dinger of a hot flush AND all three of them were wearing skirt suits despite the rain. Felt utterly betrayed! Still, Dormant Teenage Rebel chimed in, it was TOO LATE NOW!

To be continued.

HOT FLUSH (of excitement or...?)

2007-08-17T01:07:00.000-07:00

It is 9.05 am on Friday 17 August. I am fifty years, one month and two weeks old and I am a writer. Primarily. But I will go into that another time. Went out for a meal with the girls last night. One is only 17, one gets married in a fortnight, one is about to drop a baby, and the other two - myself included - are middle-aged (ish) and married and very happy with our lives. Over the first course - in my case Alfredo Mushrooms in a cheese sauce accompanied by garlic bread - the topic of conversation ranged from work (AAAGGHHH!!!), people at work (even bigger AAAGGHHH!!) and - um - work (groan). By the time the main course arrived (spaghetti in spicy tomato sauce for me - one of my favoutites), the conversation had moved up a gear or two. Work was forgotten. We discussed staff Christmas parties (Why? It is only half way through August) then Youngest Colleague's up-coming 18th, Engaged Colleague's up-coming wedding and Pregnant Colleague's up-coming first-born. I felt sorry for the guy at the next table when the pros and cons of breast-feeding were bandied about (loudly) for a good twenty minutes, followed by Birth itself. Other Married Colleague began to talk about when her son was born, followed by the inevitability of sleepless nights. Pregnant Colleague began to blanche and it wasn't helped when Other Married Colleague said "It'll be all right! Don't worry!" I felt left out of the conversation so began to gush about Granddaughter whose second birthday it just happened to be and how she'd picked up a Noddy game at Modelzone and plonked it in her buggy, thereby securing her first Christmas present of 2007. "She's definitely Granny's girl," I concluded proudly to break the stunned silence.
"Should I have a dessert I wonder?" breezed Engaged Colleague as the Main course drew to a close and I reached for my little fan to ward off another Hot Flush.

In the end Pregnant Colleague and myself settled for coffees, with Engaged Colleague claiming the little complimentary biscuits that came with them (to replace the dessert she had decided not to have, one presumes) and - at around 8.45 pm the meal came to an end. Pregnant Colleague gave Other Married Colleague and me a lift home in her new car - which saved us both worrying about trams and Being Out In Town At Night (which is sort of sad, but only to be expected these days, I guess).

I got in just before 9pm. Hubby had left for work and left me a note to say he'd missed me during the evening, so I fussed over Cat, slipped into dressing gown, curled up on the sofa and watched Spiderman 2 on the 5US channel before going to bed around 11.30. When I got up this morning, a title was playing in my head FIFTY & NOT OUT. A new book about cricket? Something about Percentages? No. The everyday meanderings of a 50 year old going through the menopause. Surely I am not the only woman who suffers from Hot Flushes?

I am NOT the only woman who suffers from Hot Flushes. And don't call me Shirley.........