"THIS HAS GOT TO STOP"

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

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!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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 ....

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!

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....

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

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!