Claire's Inner World

There's more to life than books. But not much more.

2011-02-06T14:14:00.002Z

I have been awoken from my writing slumber by a sense of moral outrage. I knew I was having a moment, as I started ranting on Facebook. Very unlike me, who is mostly a lurker, who likes to read about other people but not write too much themselves! So I repeat, and expand upon, some of my comments on Facebook.

It's the library situation. It is happening all over the country but in my own area, 16 out of the 34 libraries in Warwickshire are earmarked for closure. They are mostly small libraries which serve village communities.

In my view, libraries are not just about books, although reading for pleasure is the single best indicator of social mobility, according to a 2009 report by UNESCO. If our children don't read, they won't succeed in a world that is totally flooded with information. Literacy is essential.

They are about community space, where people can access information, meet, and have a quiet place to work. Libraries, the arts, young people, the elderly and children are soft targets for this government. And in an age where it is predicted that for the first time the upcoming generation will be less socially mobile than the one before it, it is a disgrace that we are removing the opportunity for young people to have ready access to books and information services. Or in fact, anyone else for that matter....

If we allow this to happen, we will all suffer. Philip Pullman, author, said yesterday that the impact would not be easily measured. He said:

"It's a kind of inward loss, a darkening of things, a narrowing of horizons that will gradually make us a less informed, less intelligent, less aware, less useful, less imaginative, less kindly people than we might have been."

And I absolutely and completely agree.

The madness of perfection

2010-06-14T13:11:00.007+01:00

“Were I to await perfection, my book would never be finished” Chinese Proverb

There's no doubt about the fact that I am a perfectionist. I have always been quite driven in the things that I have done, and perfectionism has motivated me to a number of accomplishments. (none of them very useful though, unfortunately..) My perfectionism can help me in my writing too, as I constantly strive to express myself in the way in which I do in my imagination. My quest for the perfect sentence or image is ongoing. And that can be a good thing for my writing. Even now I'm thinking as I write this that I am not quite saying exactly what I want to convey and that there must be a better way...

However, one of the negative aspects of perfectionism is procrastination, and I believe I have blogged about that at least once before. (although don't ask me where because I haven't tagged all my posts like I should have....) Anxiety about creating has prevented me from writing at all. Faced with the possibility of not writing well, historically I have preferred not to try.

Julia Cameron writes about perfectionism in her book The Artist's Way. She says that, instead of being a quest for the best, perfectionism can turn into a paralysing hyper-critical state which can turn creativity into a reductionist approach that lacks passion. In her view perfectionism is '....a pursuit of the worst in ourselves, the part that tells us that nothing we do will ever be good enough...' And that is why rejection can be so catastrophic for me at times, because my confidence is inversely proportional to my perfectionism! When I send some writing out into the world and it is rejected, I just want to give up. I ask myself why I am putting myself through it all, and it is easy to be propelled into a general low-level depression about writing. I think to myself, 'Well, if you can't do it well, then don't do it at all. Try canoeing or flower arranging instead.'

But, of course, that is exactly the wrong approach. Because, as Voltaire said,
'Perfection is attained by degrees; it requires the slow hand of time.'

I think you could substitute the word 'meaning' for 'perfection' in that Voltaire quotation and come close to what writing is about for me. It is about casting about (blindly) to try to make some meaning and find some sense of the life I have chosen and the time and place in which I am living it. I suppose that is a life's work, really. I can't see myself suddenly waking up one morning and going 'Oh!! So that's what it's all about! Well, I can relax now.' Giving up writing is not an option. But I suppose that exposing my writing to public scrutiny might well be. I guess that all depends on why I am writing in the first place; for me or for others? So maybe I should just relax and take it easy for a while. Write only for myself. Nurture my writerly self.

And I guess the following quotation is true:
'Have no fear of perfection- you'll never reach it.' Salvador Dali

That is, if there is any such thing as 'perfection'! It must be true that anything that is worth striving for happens incrementally, as a result of silted layers of trial, error, blood, sweat and tears. It is probably only in retrospect that most artists see a pattern in their work. When you are in the thick of it, it is very much a wood and trees scenario. So I suppose what I am saying is that I muddle on. That I have to. And I try to move out of my (critical) head and into creative action.

I'm just not that into you....

2010-05-26T19:07:00.008+01:00

I haven't been that into words recently. They can be overrated, and coming from someone who loves text and everything it does, that might sound a bit strong. But I am pretty sure my love affair with words waxes and wanes just like the changes of the natural world. Sometimes words just don't have the power for me to express my emotions, and then I look to other pleasures.

So, what have I been doing? I have been really into my music recently, and have been playing my cello until my fingers have been quite sore. And then I just wanted to be outdoors, and when the weather changed for the better I just had to get out and get soil under my fingernails. And we went walking to the Brecon Beacons with some friends. That was wonderful. As you can see from the photo above, we actually walked behind a waterfall on part of our route. It was fantastic, if slippery!

And so writing has taken a bit of a back seat. And also the other day a rejection come through for something I was (probably a bit too) fond of, and so that pushed me a little further away from the keyboard too. As much as I try to pretend I'm thick-skinned, every 'no' is a little barb.

But I know that I will fall back in love with writing again, the way I always do. Writing's like that rakish, good-for-nothing, devilishly attractive man that turns up like a bad penny, and that you just can't resist!

This morning

2010-05-18T11:47:00.002+01:00

It is a really lovely day here today. And I have seen some wonderful things already:

Waking up next to angelic sleeping Small Son. A flock of sparrows surfing along the hedge. A family of starlings worm-charming on the lawn. A field of yellow oilseed flowers lighting up like a beacon when the sun hits it. Explosions of blossom in every colour on almost every tree. A long-necked heron lazily flying south. The smiling face of a newly-pregnant friend. My germinated seedlings.

Have a good day.

The Boss of Colour

2010-05-09T22:07:00.008+01:00

I was just watching Modern Masters on BBC1, presented by Alistair Sooke. Tonight's episode was about the painter Henri Matisse. It told the story of his life and work, and the influence that his paintings have had on other artists, fashion and interior designers. I found it an incredibly moving programme. Matisse had so much humility, so much humanity. He strived throughout his life for artistic expression, and produced work right up until his death in his eighties. The beautiful cut-outs, like the one above that he is so famous for, were produced from his sickbed using a pair of shears.

His very last 'work', though, was not a painting. It was a chapel, designed fully by Matisse, with murals painted by him. The chapel was near Matisse's home, in Vence, and is called La Chapelle du Rosaire de Vence. When Alistair Sooke, the narrator of the programme, went into the chapel, he was visibly moved. And I have to say, I felt the same. The light and serenity and peace of the place was astonishing, even seeing it on a TV screen. The photo below does not begin to do it justice; I would love to visit it some day.

If you get a chance, and you're UK based, you can watch the programme, Modern Masters, on iplayer. It's well worth a look. As the designer, Paul Smith, put it, Matisse really was the 'Boss of Colour'.

Header Photo

2010-05-07T22:41:00.002+01:00

I've been feeling the need for a bit of a calming influence on the blog, so I dug around in my photo files and found the above for the header.

It is a place in the Pyrenees in France called Lac d'Oo. You have to get there on foot, as it is a glacial lake up in the mountains. It takes a couple of hours to walk up from the car park which is doen in the village, but it is worth the climb. It is stunningly beautiful. The lake is crystal clear glacial water, and the waterfall you can see in the photo is about 270m high. The snow line is visible, even in the heat of the summer, when we last visited. A truly magical place.

Enjoy the photo.

What a shambles!

2010-05-07T09:01:00.002+01:00

Last night I stayed up until 2am in the hope of getting a feel for the way the election might go. But, as my eyes were closing with tiredness, we were none the wiser, as the declarations began to only trickle in. Worse than that was the steady flow of stories about the organisation of the polling stations, with people queueing for hours only to be locked out and unable to vote. I remember when I was at university, one of my tutors went to Georgia as an independent observer to oversee their election. I wonder what he is making of last night's shenanigans.

And here we are, the morning after the night before, and no-one seems to be any the wiser. The results have been highly individualised, and have not really followed any discernable pattern, with surprise results happening all over the country.

My feeling is that maybe there is a pattern. If you shade in all the constituencies in their respective political colours, the geographical results might form into the shape of a single-finger salute pointing in the direction of Westminster, in a public act of collective unconscious, the like we have never seen.

Anyway, it's looking like we might be doing this all again fairly soon, so we might stand a chance of getting it right next time. Here's hoping...

Vote Vegetable!

2010-04-29T11:54:00.003+01:00

I've been trying to explain the forthcoming election to Dear Daughter and Small Son. There are a lot of blank looks when I ask them if they know who the Prime Minister is. Gordon Brown rings no bells with my 4 and 5 year old. And then I say that there are three main parties, and their faces light up.
'And can we go to these parties?'
'No, not that kind of party. It means when people get together in a group. There are the Labour party, the Conservatives and the Liberals. Who sounds the best to you?'
'I think the Label party sounds best.' says Dear Daughter. 'What do they do?'

I ask them if they know what the government is. Dear Daughter hazards a guess.
'Is it the man that tells us what to do?'
'Like the king?', Small Son adds.
'Well, kind of.' I say. 'And do you know where they work?'
I'm hopeful about the answer, as when we had a trip to London I took them to see Big Ben. I start to prompt them,
'The Houses of Par.....?'
'The Houses of Parsnips!' shouts Small Son triumphantly.

Hmmm. This could take some time...

Work in progress

2010-04-27T12:26:00.002+01:00

The eagle-eyed among you might have noticed that the word count on my progress meter has finally risen again. I haven't been working much on my long project in the recent past. I'm not quite sure why. I just stopped one day and then found it really hard to restart. I think it seemed like it was too hard. Well, it is hard. There's no doubt about that. And the longer it gets and the more complex, the more I wonder sometimes what the hell I'm doing and why. But I have restarted finally. I've picked up where I left off and hope to get back into my routine of 1000 words a day on each of my writing days.

And this is just the first draft. God help me....

Just breathing...

2010-04-24T21:50:00.004+01:00

I meditate. Not as often as I should, but I sit down fairly regularly and just breathe. It is good for me to meditate. As someone who is into words, who is into finding exactly the right sequence of them to express a thought or an image, (alright, who is maybe a little obsessed with them!?) it is beneficial to get away from words sometimes.

Sometimes the voice in my head is simply unstoppable; a ticker tape of words constantly rolling across my consciousness, like the scrolling news reports on News 24. Sometimes though, slowly, I manage to focus gently on the breathing, even though I snap back to that internal voice intermittently. Occasionally, the voice fades away for a few moments and I just 'am'. In the moment, in the breath, not thinking. It is wonderful, but happens far too little, mainly because I don't practise enough!

Once, though, I had what I can only describe as a vision of some sort. Or perhaps a vivid daydream. I was just breathing and the voice in my head was quiet. And then suddenly I saw bright green foliage, and in the foreground a stream of golden coins pouring from above onto an intricately, colourfully, tiled floor. And then it was gone. It must have lasted a second, maybe two. And I can't explain or forget it. It was so strange. I have never had anything like that happen since.

Action or apathy?

2010-04-20T10:08:00.005+01:00

I've just had an interesting conversation with my best friend about social responsibility. She is a new mum of a 15 month old and expecting her second child at the end of the year. I have two children of 4 and 5. My friend works part time as a hospital doctor.

We began talking about her life. As I said, she is a doctor and her husband is training to be a vicar in the Anglican church, and they are considering going to Africa to work. I think they feel like their efforts perhaps fall on stony ground here in the UK. And perhaps they feel like there is more 'real' need in the developing world, more that they can do to help. I do understand that view, although I remain convinced that there is real need in the UK as well, which is deep-rooted and insidiously tied up with social and political issues of all kinds. It is certainly the case that the gap between rich and poor in the UK is ever-widening, which is deeply concerning for 13 years of a Labour government...

But the question we came to was - where does your responsibility lie? Is it to your own family or is it to the wider community? If everyone took their family responsibilities seriously, then would society be in a better position? If we do have a wider responsibility, then where is the line drawn between putting your family first and helping others? For example, would you put your own children at risk, for example by moving to a politically unstable country, in order to help others? Would you move around the world, going where the need is greatest, and take your children with you? And if the answer to those questions is 'no', then are you just complacent and selfish?

Maybe one of the answers is about apathy. My friend sees direct action as the answer. I agree that direct action can be effective, but I see the long-term solution as being a political one. The risk that I run, from my position, is that it is easy to sit there and say, 'This is nothing to do with me, it's a political matter. I'll vote, but beyond that, it's not my problem.' There is no direct personal responsibility being taken. If I do nothing, that could be seen as apathetic or uncaring. But, if I bake a cake for the homeless centre or volunteer occasionally, is that enough? Or is that just a 'box-ticking' exercise to assuage my guilt?

I, and my friend, are hugely lucky. We have both been born in the developed world. We were born into affluent (by world standards) homes. We have been educated. We have access to health services. We are incredibly fortunate, but should we feel guilty about it or empowered by it to effect change? Where do our responsibilities, and the answers, lie?

With the general election coming up, these questions are running in my mind at the moment. How can my vote be used wisely? Where does personal responsibility end and social responsibility start?

Any ideas?

The Great British Cuppa

2010-04-12T19:03:00.002+01:00

'If you are cold, tea will warm you.
If you are too heated, it will cool you.
If you are depressed, it will cheer you.
If you are excited, it will calm you.'

Gladstone

.....And if you have had an eighteen hour journey back home, and if the only milk you had for that whole two weeks in France was horrible long-life stuff, then that first cup of tea with fresh milk that you drank sitting on your own sofa in your own living room might just taste like the nectar of the gods....

The Naughty Fairy

2010-04-08T22:19:00.002+01:00

Small Son is not only acing the skiing, but he is rapidly outdoing us all in the imagination stakes. I can't believe some of the things this kid comes out with.

Today, after a telling off from me for unraveling all the toilet roll yet again, he came out with this:-

'But Mummy, there's a naughty fairy that lives in my head.'

'Oh yes?'

''She gets in through a little door in the back of my head, and then she presses all the buttons in there, and my hand just shoots out and rolls the toilet roll holder.'

I mean, there's just no answer to that, is there....?

Learning to Ski

2010-04-06T20:26:00.003+01:00

So we're back in France now, having spent an amazing week in Spain. We rented a little chalet and drove up to the slopes every day. The weather was brilliant, considering it was the last week of the season. It snowed at night three times and we had lovely white, fresh, powdery, unmarked snow to ski on in the mornings.... It was also not too busy. My worry was that because it was Easter week, it would be overwhelmingly crowded with skiiers. But all in all it was fine. There was only one afternoon that we came down early, as it had started to snow and was getting quite cold. So we skiied for 8 days solid! The only thing is that my legs do hurt. Quite a lot... (Note to self - get that pre-ski fitness regime in place for next year..!) I also caught an edge of my left ski on about Day 3 and twisted my knee, so that has been aching a bit since, especially at the end of the day.

I love skiing in Spain, mainly because the children have such a grand time. It is so true that the Spanish love children, and the chair lift and cable car operaters lifted both of mine on and off with the utmost gentleness and handed out sweets and stickers freely! My two thought it was excellent!

And here's something that's given me pause for thought. Small Son (he turned 4 while we were there) began the week unable to ski and ended the week racing all of us down the blue runs... He has turned into a complete thrill seeker! It was incredible to see him learning so quickly, without fear or judgment. It did make me wonder what we adults could achieve if we approached new things with such verve and enthusiasm, combined with no prejudices or preconceived ideas. And most importantly, with no fear.

Spring forward...

2010-03-27T20:54:00.003Z

Daylight saving begins tomorrow! I love those light nights. We have escaped the doubtful Spring and forecast sleet of the UK, and have hot-footed it down to my parents' farm in South-West France. A day to recover from our long drive and tomorrow we're off to Spain to ski for a week. That's assuming the snow stays. It has been hotting up quite a bit down here and things are looking somewhat slushy. Either way, we'll hopefully get some sun and and a bit of rest and recuperation. So things are looking up.

I am so looking forward to this Easter break. I feel like I have been on a bit of a downer in recent weeks, and have lost some of my enthusiasm for life, so hopefully this time will see me right. In retrospect, I think I may have been a bit tired and a bit ill, but these things tend to creep up on you, don't they, without you realising?

Am going to try to work on a short story while I'm here, as well as do my morning pages obviously. It's hard to commit to anything more than that on holiday! So we'll see how it goes... I will post again when we are back from skiing, as will be without internet for a week. Bye for now and here's hoping nothing gets broken....

Safety First

2010-03-22T11:24:00.004Z

The Roman philosopher, Tacitus, said,

'the desire for safety stands against every great and noble enterprise.'

It was an astute observation, as the natural instinct of every person is to protect themselves, whether it is throwing up your arm against an incoming punch, or putting on a persona so you can face the world. The problem with writing is that it involves an exposure of self, an opening and revealing, to a greater or lesser extent, of the person. It is a common difficulty suffered by writers that they throw up blocks to writing, either conscious or subconscious ones, to protect themselves against the vulnerability that writing creates. So although writing is something they deeply want to do, it can be very difficult to actually allow themselves to undertake it.

I mean, really, why would anyone spill out their deepest feelings onto paper, expose their view of the world, then let other people read and criticise it?! The ego is made vulnerable by this and so tries to protect itself by using tactics to prevent you from doing it! All that stuff about not feeling good enough, not having enough time, it not being the right time, the work being rubbish, other people distracting you, being too tired/ill/lonely/happy to write. All these are diversionary tactics by your ego.

Because putting yourself out there on paper is risky, no doubt about it. So really, when people ask what you need to be a good writer, the answer has got to be - courage! And also, the presence of mind to start small and slow and work up. You have to almost creep up on your ego, nip by on the inside when it's obsessing about the size of your thighs, or something. A lot of people worry that they will never achieve their true potential (yet another ego avoidance tactic!), and of course they never will, unless they start at the bottom and work up. They, and we, only have this present moment, so there is no point worrying about achieving a goal sometime in the future or castigating ourselves for the mistakes of our past. All we can do is act now. And with any luck those small acts made in the moment will build into a bigger picture that we can understand.

But none of this is easy, and that is is why books such as The Artists Way by Julia Cameron, have been so very popular and helped so many people. Because they help you to bypass that inner critic, get a handle on your ego, and deal with the blocks that prevent so many of us from writing.

I did laugh (or was it cry?!) the other day. A friend asked how the writing was going. 'I'm a bit concerned' he said, 'because all you seem to blog about is how hard it is, and why you're not doing it!' And he was right. But it is hard, and some of the time I'm not doing it. I find it hard to maintain my confidence. I have fallen off the writing wagon, and seen it trundle off into the distance, more times than I care to remember. But I guess what is important is that every time, I pick myself up, dust myself off, and keep going. One way or another I keep going. And I do this because ultimately I know that writing is good for me. I am a better person if I am doing it and thinking about it. Regardless of whether I ever write anything that anyone else will read, it is very good for me. And a lot cheaper than therapy!!

So writers have to release that safety belt and take a few risks. It's frightening, but the rewards are worth it. Here's another Roman quotation to end with -

'Fortes fortuna adiuvat'

'Fortune favours the brave'

Am I fit?

2010-03-08T15:16:00.003Z

My balance hasn't been so good lately. I was on the Wii Fit and The Consultant persuaded me to do the body test and sign up to the exercise programme. Apart from working our your BMI using your height, age and weight, it tested your balance as a key indicator of aging. I won't tell you exactly how old that stupid machine said I was, but it was considerably different to my biological age... I knew I shouldn't have had that glass of wine before I started...

Anyway, it got me thinking about maintaining my balancing act in other areas. I haven't been brilliant, it has to be said. I looked at my diary for the last few weeks, and it has been full. But very full of things that are just stuff. Not full of all the creative things that I swore I was going to create more time and head space for. I have been spending a lot of time at my children's school. Doing necessary things, I suppose, but not things that someone else couldn't do, if you see what I mean...

At the beginning of the year I promised myself that I wouldn't let myself get over-committed, and that I would have focus this year on my own creative work. But I haven't been very successful. One of the reasons is clearly that I find it hard to say no when I am asked to do something. On three days last week I found myself at school doing something or other. But perhaps a more truthful reason is that I find it hard to put my writing first because it does not come under the category of either wage-earning, or looking after the family, and therefore comes low down on the list of perceived priorities. The fact that if I don't write, it affects my mental health, doesn't seem to come into the equation!

So, again, I find myself readjusting, pushing back those commitments, trying to carve out time for myself, striving for balance again. It ain't easy.

World Book Day

2010-03-04T18:55:00.004Z

I spent this afternoon at school helping with a second-hand book sale, held to celebrate World Book Day. It was lovely to be able to observe the children choosing their books, right from the tinies at Kindergarten, up to the unfeasibly tall Year 6's and beyond. They were all very enthusiastic, and I had some great conversations with them about why they liked or disliked certain books. It was interesting to see what drew them to books (great covers and TV/film spin-offs!) and what put them off (old-fashioned or boring design, or 'too many words...'!!).

The little ones were funny, if predictable - the girls wanted books about fairies, princesses and horses, and the boys about diggers, cars and knights! One of the older boys bought a copy of Stevenson's 'Treasure Island'. Great classic but I wonder what he will make of it?! I did have to smile at the choices of one the teachers - she bought a whole armful of self-improvement books with titles such as 'Change your Life for the Better' and 'How to Get Rich'!! Perhaps she's decided teaching isn't for her!

All in all, it was just good to see that books still do hold excitement for children. In this technological age we're living in, we're led to believe that kids are not interested in books any more. But my experience today shows that it is simply not true. It brought back childhood memories of rummaging through the second hand book stall at any fete or fair in search of a new story to get lost in. What new worlds have been opened up today.... and all for the princely sum of 20p!

The pram in the hall

2010-02-23T12:43:00.005Z

'There is no more sombre enemy of good art than the pram in the hall.'

So spake Cyril Connolly, the English intellectual. But was he right? And if he was, does that mean that the creative work of mothers is relegated to some kind of second tier? Clearly not, as the works of many famous writers who are also parents show. Writers such as Margaret Atwood, Anne Enright, Sylvia Plath, Barbara Trapido, Alice Walker - all mothers. The other shining example of the victory of creativity over domestic circumstance is actually the experience of a father - JG Ballard, who brought up his three children after the death of his wife, and still managed to write Empire of the Sun. Here he is talking about it in the Observer. (I'm definitely going to take up his habit of starting the day with a large scotch and soda..!)

But he did have something, did Cyril. There is something about becoming a mother that is all-encompassing, and threatening.

It is not so much a risk to creativity itself, in my view. I have never felt as creative as since I have had my children, and they most definitely foster and inform my creativity. Being a parent has also allowed me to experience a range of emotion that I would have not had access to without that experience. I actually think that having children has concentrated my mind and forced me to discipline myself and my creative priorities, instead of drifting about, waiting for the muse to alight on my shoulder.

Becoming a mother more a threat to productivity and output; both from a practical time perspective, and to the head space, to the mental energy that is needed to produce a piece of creative work. The problem with being a mother is that it is eternal, twenty four hours a day and forever. And, here's the kicker, being the archetype that it is, it nearly always takes precedence over every other role that a woman can assume. So there is no doubt that the mother and the writer (or artist/musician etc) will be constantly warring for supremacy. So how did those famous writing mothers (and fathers) do it, and how do we do it now? How do we do the right thing by our children, and the right thing by ourselves as writers and creative people?

There is no doubt, in my view, that what children need is to be with their parents or at the very least a one-to-on carer such as a nanny or grandparent during the first two years of their lives. Research into child develpoment is pretty conclusive on this subject. So how do you as a mother and a writer square that circle? I'm not sure if you can. Most women's CVs have a kind of hiatus that coincides with the birth of children. In some ways you have to resign yourself to it. If you want children, that is the sacrifice you have to make. There is something about especially the first year of any baby's life, when writing becomes some strange far-off thing, somewhere way down on the list of priorities, of which the number one is sleep! Some writers, such as Michele Roberts, are not prepared to make that sacrifice and take a deliberate decision not to have children. Some days I wish I'd joined them, especially on reading 'This Be the Verse', by Philip Larkin, and 'They F**k You Up', by psychologist Oliver James.

However, it is also true that children are happiest when their family life and parents are happy too. This means that there is no point in sacrificing yourself on the altar of your children's needs. All you will end up with is bitterness and resentment. When you emerge from the baby stage of your children's life, it does get a little easier. Then it becomes more of a practical challenge of working out how to manage the enormous amount of work involved in looking after children, how to manage your working life (if you are back in the workplace) and still carve out time for your creative work! It ain't easy, that's for sure. Throwing money at the problem does help, as does letting go of guilt (ha!) and many writers are grateful for the help of legions of child-minders, after-school clubs, cleaners, housekeepers (oh, I wish!!). That's not to mention all those wonderful partners/husbands and grandparents who take on their fair share of the work.

That's a lot of effort and organisation - as sure as eggs are eggs, you'll be the one with the overview of which child is where when, and what they need to have with them, what they need to have for breakfast, lunch and tea, and every other little detail. This can just fill your head up with admin. It's not so much organising it all, it's the thinking about organising it all that gets you....

The bottom line is that if you want to succeed as a writer-mother, you have to have written through your core, like a stick of Blackpool rock - Writing is important and I am determined to find a way. You have to stop wasting time. You can be as productive as your single male counterparts. Just think how much time they waste 'playing the writer' in Starbucks, posing with their Moleskine notebooks/laptop!!

And you have to stop using motherhood as an excuse not to write. You have to look inside your heart and really think about what is stopping you. If it is practicalities, you will always find a way. If it is something else....then you have to face up to those demons.

So. You need the organsational efficiency of a major general, the stamina of an downhill skier (sorry, been watching the Winter Olympics!) , Margaret Thatcher's need for sleep and the focused mind of a zen buddhist. Not much then, but as Confucius said,
'The greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.'

And there is time. When you're in the grip of life with young children, it is easy to feel like your own life is slipping away. But that stage, like all others, doesn't last. There is, and will be, time for writing.

Good luck and don't give up.

Half Term

2010-02-17T17:15:00.005Z

This week the kids are around as it's half term. This, although great fun, tends to reduce the writing to furtive scribbling in any spare moment or two. The other day, Dear Daughter came into my room, saw me with my notebook, promptly turned around and went out again. I heard her saying to her brother, 'There's no point, she's doing that writing again.' Of course, I then felt guilty, so I have resolved to try and give them a bit of attention this week, rather than have them jostling at my elbow, as they're doing as I write this on the laptop at my parent's-in-law! Today we had a lovely walk at Wyming Brook in Sheffield. The walk runs along a valley with a babbling brook in the bottom that tumbles over huge mossy rocks, with pine trees and beech trees growing on the surrounds. It is really very beautiful.

I'm always interested in women who write and have children and have to juggle the opposing demands on their time and attention. The novelist Sophie Hannah, has always been quite open about putting her children into nursery in order to give herself time to write. Others seem to manage writing at the kitchen table while the children play aroung their feet, although I do remember reading, I think, that Fay Weldon said she hardly wrote anything for the ten years that her three children were small! She did however publish at least one novel during this time, so she can't have entirely been concentrating on child-rearing!

So how does everyone else do it?! Is it just a matter of compromise, like a lot of other things in family life? (I'm multi-tasking as I write this - brokering a peace agreement between Small Son and his little cousin!) Will have to close now, as am being kicked off the dining table so we can all have tea....!

Distracted...

2010-02-12T14:04:00.002Z

I have a lot on my mind at the moment. Mainly choice of schools or otherwise for the kids. It's an agonising decision process that has led me to question my attitudes to education, society, money, parenting, aspiration, risk-taking and control, amongst other things... There have been tears and sleepless nights. Maybe I would be better off if I didn't think about things so much, indeed some might say that I am prone to over-analysis. But I can't help it. I am a thinker. That is what I do. I can't not think, and I can't not be passionate about the things I believe in.

Here is not the place to enter into a discussion about the politics and ideologies of education and my views and emotions on it all. Suffice to say, it has distracted me from my writing, and I have achieved half of what I normally would this week, mainly because my time has been taken up with school visits and meetings. However, we have a limited time in which to make our decisions, and I think I will feel better once it is done and we can move on.

Life does sometimes get in the way of writing, but I am hopeful that no experience is wasted, and can be mined for inspiration later on!

Back in the saddle!

2010-02-09T11:38:00.001Z

Picking up my notebook and writing my 1000 words was really hard this morning. I avoided and procastinated, until I couldn't put it off any longer.

I wrote rubbish, no doubt of that, but the engine is clearing and hopefully good things will come, eventually.

The thought of how hard it is going to be is so much worse than the reality of just sitting down and getting on with it. But I think that ploughing on with it, even when you would far rather be doing something else, is what it takes to get a novel written, even a novel of dubious literary merit, such as mine.

Well, he can fly a sleigh, can't he....?!

2010-02-08T21:28:00.003Z

This blog occasionally has the tendency to slip into becoming a record of funny things my kids say. Here's a cracker:

5 Year old Daughter has a tendency to embark on deep and meaningful conversations over breakfast when The Consultant and I are just struggling to wakefulness with the aid of caffeine. The other day she started quizzing us about gravity. I just looked the other way in a 'that's not my area' kind of fashion, so she zoned in on her dad.

First of all, she tells him what she knows about gravity; that everything has it and that it is what holds everything down. Then she pipes up,

'But what exactly is gravity?'

The Consultant gives what I think is a very coherent answer for that time in the morning,

'Well, no-one really knows. There are a group of scientists in Switzerland who are doing experiments to see if they can find out the answer.'

She ponders this for a moment. Then,

'But why don't they just ask Father Christmas?'

Recovering...

2010-02-05T16:58:00.002Z

I'm feeling a bit better today. The antibiotics have clearly started working. However, I feel like I haven't slept for a week, even though that's all I've been doing for most of it. I've had the stuffing knocked out of me, as my mother used to say.

Anyway, on the mend now and will just have to write this week up to experience. It has certainly reminded me what having a fever is like. Could come in handy sometime.

Although I haven't done much writing on the long project this week, I have still written my morning pages, and on here, so it hasn't been an entirely barren writing week. I do still have this sense of not wanting to let the engine stall for fear of it not starting again. I'm already a bit anxious about the thought of going back to my long project notebook on Monday. But I do want to get that word count on this first draft up a bit, so will be there bright and early to knuckle down to it.

I think I'm concerned because I've been writing this long project almost every day and the story has been flowing and now I have stopped for nearly a week, I'm worried about picking up the threads again. This is when you start wishing you had planned a bit and made notes...

But this is an experiment just for me, to see how I get on with producing something more spontaneously than usual. So we shall see how the week's interruption affects it all. More next week, undoubtedly...

Take up thy bed and dance...

2010-02-04T20:13:00.003Z

Music has the power to heal the sick. Honest, it really does.

Go to Youtube and listen to this, and I defy you not to be uplifted! At the very least you should be dancing around your laptop. If you ever get a chance to see these guys play live, GO! They are just brilliant. Totally and utterly life-affirming.

I feel better already...

Urrggghh

2010-02-03T02:56:00.002Z

So my week isn't going so well. After my resolution to keep on keeping on, I have been struck down by tonsillitis. I haven't had this since I was a student and just goes to show that I have perhaps been a little under stress in the last few weeks. I've got some stuff I'm worried about and I have been going over and over it in my mind, to the extent to which I'm even boring myself, so I won't subject you to it here.

I feel horrible, hence I'm up blogging at 3am. My body clock is all over the place as I have spent the last day and night sleeping and waking and sweating and shivering. My throat feels like it's full of slimy razor blades, and my head is hurting like you would not believe. I have maxed out on the number of paracetemol and ibuprofen tablets I can take in one day, so here I am, trying to take my mind off it all. I've started on some penicillin so I'm just hoping and praying that it will start working soon and make me feel better.

I guess sometimes we just have to stop. We don't get a choice in the matter. And maybe it's for the best. Maybe I just need to rest and get myself well and concentrate on the basics. And I could probably find the good in it if I really had to... But it is just so damned inconvenient when your life slides to a standstill and you stumble out of the wreckage completely askew.

Is it time to try for some sleep again? Would probably be a good idea. At least I might stand a chance of making it through tomorrow. Goodnight!

That's life.

2010-02-01T13:40:00.003Z

You have all these commitments, plans and good intentions. On a normal week you can just about squeeze in under the wire, having contorted yourself physically and mentally, to manage all the tasks you have set yourself for that allotted time. It's like a very complex juggling routine. Like the ones where the man in the leotard stands on a barrel and rolls it at the same time as juggling flaming torches and holding a bunch of flowers in his teeth.

The problem is that if one single element goes wrong, then the whole thing goes spectacularly, badly, disastrously wrong, and no-one wants to see a man in a leotard lying spread-eagled across a barrel with a flaming torch stuck in a sensitive place. (I think I've taken this man in a leotard metaphor as far as I can without it threatening to become the most interesting thing about this post...)

So, last week I was ill thanks to the generosity of my best friend and her cold virus, and this week Small Son is streaming with cold and looking a bit pitiful. He is presently ensconced in the spare room watching Fireman Sam DVDs. So what happens? All the writing and all the other stuff planned while everyone is out of the house is seriously threatened. What can you do? Well, just your best really. I have started to realise that despite my best efforts, the wheels will just come off sometimes and there's not a lot I can do about it. So I will perhaps pick up my notebook and get a few minutes in which to scribble things down. I can even try for my 1000 words, but in all likelihood, it ain't going to be happening.

I could get all antsy about it. That is my usual technique - to crash about in a horrible mood if I don't get time to myself. But that takes a lot of energy. And I'm a bit over unnecessary effort. So I shall just do my best, and keep on keeping on.

Don't ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody.

2010-01-28T21:48:00.004Z

J.D. Salinger died today.

Catcher in the Rye is one of the books that made me want to be a writer. If ever a book had 'voice' this is IT! Holden Caulfield has to be one of the most convincing teenagers ever created.
Check this out for an opening -

'If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don't feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth.'

I'll see your Dickens, and I'll raise you...

You just know it's going to be good from that first sentence.

So thanks, J.D., and goodnight. Perhaps Holden could end for me -

'I hope to hell when I do die somebody has sense enough to just dump me in the river or something. Anything except sticking me in the goddam cemetery. People coming and putting a bunch of flowers on your stomach on a Sunday, and all that crap. Who wants flowers when you're dead? Nobody.'

Quite.

So here's the thing.....

2010-01-28T13:02:00.002Z

I am working on what I have coyly and somewhat euphemistically titled my 'longer project'. My plan has been to write 1000 words on each day I have free time and so far it has been working pretty well. Although today I am somewhat avoiding the page.

I am writing longhand into a notebook. I am just simply writing a story as it comes to me. I don't know if it will be a long short story or a novella or a novel, I am just writing what comes. This is in pretty much stark contrast to my other writing which has been very planned out. The problem is that when I have tried to plan novels, I have become so obsessed with researching, with planning every detail in every chapter, and I have thought about the characters so much, that actually writing it has become an insurmountable obstacle, so daunting that I don't even start.

So I have decided to try something different. A change is as good as a rest, so they say. And let's face it, it can't be any more disastrous a result than failing to actually write anything at all.

One thing I have found is that if I miss a day for any reason, even if I write double one day because I know I won't have time the next, it is really hard to get back into it again. I think that's my problem today. Which is why I'm blogging about it, not doing it. So I think the answer to that is - don't stop. Ever. No days off!! It's like my car, which is fine once you get it going, but if it stalls, you're done for as it won't start again.

So shall quit stalling!

Why I haven't always written...

2010-01-25T09:06:00.002Z

Funnily enough, the reason I haven't always maintained my creative writing through my life is related to memory too.

I have always written diaries, or letters or poems or little stories, ever since I was a child. In my teens though, things changed. Firstly I became self-conscious about myself and therefore my writing, and this worsened as I became a lover of books, of other peoples' writing. This translated into studying other peoples' writing, at A Level, Degree level and Masters. Consequently, my own writing became a source of shame when compared to the masters and mistresses of literature that I was reading. Also, I was a young woman, unconfident and trained out of my creative aspects by my traditional academic education. I suspect this is not an uncommon story for your thirty-something middle-class woman. I certainly know a lot of people who would have followed a more creative path had it not been for the expectations of their parents and schools.

So it took a long time, probably near enough ten years, after studying literature, for me to be able to pick up a pen again. I needed to give myself time to forget. And time to live a little. And even so, it has been, and continues to be, a epic struggle against a strong internal critic, who picks apart everything to find the weaknesses.

But things are slowly improving. I find it easier these days just to get something down and worry about the quality later. I feel happier about it not being good. I feel more instinctively that writing is all about the process. I feel about my writing pretty much the way I do about my life:- It's ok to make mistakes because who cares? I care a lot less about what other people think than I used to. I am prepared to take more risks because there is only today, and everything else is a promise or a memory.

Today I will write.

Why I write

2010-01-21T19:06:00.002Z

I was chopping some carrots for tea tonight with a small red paring knife and I suddenly thought to myself; where did this knife come from? I had absolutely no idea whether I had bought it or been given it by someone, and when this might have happened. The same thing has started to happen with clothes. I get a t-shirt out and I think, I can't remember where I got this or when. I used to know exactly where everything in my house came from. Who had bought it for me or where I bought it, what I was thinking that day and who was with me, even sensations felt whilst using/wearing that item. Like my very first pair of drainpipe jeans I was wearing when I had my first kiss on that draughty staircase. But now things are starting to slip. I don't have perfect recall. There's just too many things to keep track of now that I'm sharing a house and a lot of headspace with three other people. And because my life is so full, I can't possibly remember everything all the time. I have to make lists just to get through the week.

And that brings me to writing. The other day I was wondering why I write, why I spend such a lot of time either doing it or thinking about doing it. And I think it is because everything is so fragile and precious and passes so quickly and I really want for time to stand still sometimes, which I know it can't, and so I try to get it down, capture it before it is gone forever. But I am quite bad at doing this. There are so many things; ideas, quotations, overheard remarks, observations, that never make it too the page because life just gets in the way. So that is why I write; for me. To help me remember/allow me to forget/place in order/accept there is no order to/ this life.

Back to normality

2010-01-11T08:59:00.004Z

After all the snow and ice, things are finally starting to return to normal with the melting slush. This is the bit about the snow I hate. I love love love the proper white stuff, but when it starts going all mushy and brown, I can take or leave it. The kids are back at school for the start of what I hope is a normal week. And I am finally able to put into practice my New Years resolution of committing to writing on a daily basis.

I have been writing morning pages for a few months now. I can't believe how beneficial this has become for me. There is something about splurging onto paper your conscious niggly worries, things that have been keeping you awake, scraps of dreams and strange semi-conscious thoughts. There is something about those few minutes of dream-like state after waking that enables you to almost cross the rubicon into your subconscious. And knowing you never have to read anything you have written ever again is a liberation. I'm sure that a lot of what comes out of me is absolute rubbish, stuff and nonsense. But it doesn't matter. It is the act of doing it that is important.

So, I have been writing three or four pages daily in the mornings, but I want to build on that by embarking on a longer project, on which I will work every day. Ideally I would like to get 1000 words down every day that I have free time (that's 4 days a week) so 4000 words a week.

That's the goal.

This is the first day.

Let's see what happens....

New Year's here...

2010-01-04T21:27:00.002Z

I have been neglecting this blog terribly. In fact, I've been neglecting a lot of things terribly, particularly when it comes to my own creative work. Somehow, being a mum of small kids, and not working, being quite well-organised and quite busy, all adds up to people asking you to do things for them. All the time. So since September I have been really quite bad at saying no, bad at prioritising my tasks, bad at treating my own creative work with the seriousness it deserves. I have been good at being occupied with lots of tasks for other people, but who wants that on their headstone - ''She was always busy".

So, my resolution to myself this New Year is to cut down my outside commitments, and bulk up my inside ones - the ones to my writing and music and creative things.
Because they are commitments in the truest sense and if they are not met, then the balance of life is not right. And resentment and discontentment creep in. And no-one wants that.

So let's raise a glass to acknowledging those deepest commitments, and stepping towards meeting them in 2010.

Or maybe it's not!

2009-09-07T19:33:00.003+01:00

Just had it pointed out to me (thanks Lola!) that I am jumping the gun somewhat, with my 100th post. Actually, I clearly can't count! I'm only up to 94 according to my posting history. I have tinkered about with my blog a bit but can't think how that would have changed the number of posts. Don't think I deleted any! (Maybe I should have!)
Must be me, but could have sworn I added it up right. Hey ho!

Anyway, all the above stuff still applies and is true. But I needn't have had all that angst over the posting of it, as it isn't even the 100th anyway!

God. Now what am I going to write for the 100th one??

Milestones

2009-09-04T19:31:00.002+01:00

I have been approaching the writing of this post with some reluctance and trepidation. For a start, this is my one hundredth post on this blog, and I kind of thought I ought to write something meaningful, rather than the usual rambling nonsense.

Secondly, I've been away from blogging for a while. There are a few reasons for this. I've been somewhat child-bound during the summer, as a lot of people are... And we have been away to France for nearly a month. Although we do have internet access there, I do tend to use the time to take a break from technology, recharge my batteries, and read. Yes, read. I probably read more when I'm in France than I do the whole rest of the year. The way I see it, the summer is for reading and the rest of the year is for writing. Although I do try to do the two things in conjunction, it isn't always easy.

Thirdly, I had this, perhaps misguided, notion that my one hundredth post should see me illustrating the numerous and abundant ways in which I have changed since beginning this blog. Of course I have changed and progressed, but perhaps not quite so dramatically as I would have liked! I have a Diploma in Creative Writing from the Open University to my name, but other than that, not much is different. I still have two small children, although they are getting bigger every day... And part of my learning has been to cherish that experience, as they grow and change so quickly. I've realised that their babyhood will too soon be over and they won't want to know me, other than as a cash machine and taxi service... Next year they will both be at school full time and I will have ample opportunity to pursue my goals. Until then, they take priority.

Having said that, I 'keep buggering on' (as Winston Churchill said) with my writing. It's slow progress - maybe I'm a slow learner. But I have goals (to try to get some short fiction published) and I'm plodding on towards them, slowly but surely. Hope 'The Hare and the Tortoise' comes true for me!

Anyway, that's my one hundredth post. Normal service and (semi) regular blogging should resume shortly. Kids are back at school/kindergarten now and writing work whispers to me from my notebook.

Hope September is a fresh start for you all.

And as Confucius said, “It doesn’t matter how slowly you go so long as you do not stop.”

Most hated word?

2009-07-18T21:06:00.003+01:00

I ws just reading a post on the Guardian Books Blog where poets at the Ledbury Festival were asked what their most hated word is.

What's best about this article are the HUGE number of comments and discussions about peoples' favourite hated word. One of the top ones was 'moist', which I definitely agree with. Especially when in conjunction with 'panties'. I can't even bear to write them down together...

And another one I hate is 'yourself' when used instead of 'you' - e.g. Insurance salesman - 'And will the car be driven by yourself?'

I could go on. And on.

Anyone else got a pet hate?

New look

2009-07-18T11:51:00.002+01:00

You can tell I've got work to do, because I'm fiddling about with my blog instead of getting on with it.

Anyway, thought I'd change the layout round a bit - I tried rewriting some of the html code to make my other blog wider but it didn't really work properly, and my LibraryThing widget was still squashed up, so I just thought I'd change the template and be done with it.

I like it to take up all the page - doesn't feel so column-like.

Distractions

2009-07-17T22:06:00.002+01:00

Aren't there just always distractions for writers? My current ones are the following:-

Pain - following my wisdom teeth extraction last week, I have had a very painful mouth. The post-operative discomfort has now been added to by a shard of bone that has become loose and is trying to work its way out of my lower gum. It REALLY hurts....
Sun - I'm in France. It's very hot and very stormy. I just want to lie by the pool reading, and then sleep a lot.
Daydreaming - it's what I do - and there's ample opportunity for it at the moment.
Rejection - I got another rejection for a short story, but as they go, this one was encouraging. At least it said 'great idea' and 'good try' before the 'no thankyou'.
Facebook - need I say more? Our internet has been broken here for a week and we've only just fixed it. It feels like I'm back in the real world again, suddenly. Or have I been in the real world and am just re-entering the digital mesh we call life?

I have a few writing ideas bubbling just under the surface though - tomorrow it's time to get the notebook and pen out.

Lurkers!

2009-07-09T19:02:00.002+01:00

To all you people out there who are reading my blog anonymously (you know who you are!), please leave me a comment when you happen to drop by, even if it's to radically contradict what I've said in a post, because you know me so well...!!

It would make me feel less like I'm talking into a vacuum...

So. Leave a comment. Otherwise, I'm going to start writing about you....!

Yours, as always...

I may be some time....

2009-07-08T11:08:00.002+01:00

I'm having my wisdom teeth out today. In about an hour.
Apparently, I have to think, 'pressure not pain, pressure not pain...'
Hmmmm.....

So, I don't know how I'll feel for a couple of days. May not want to do anything other than lie on the sofa and watch crap TV.

Also, we're off to France on Saturday, so future posts will be from there for a month or so...

Smoke me a kipper, I'll be back for breakfast.

Regime updates - #2!

2009-07-06T09:42:00.003+01:00

Now for the diet update....

It's not going too badly. I had an unfortunate relapse last week, when I went for the best Italian meal I've had outside Italy. We went out for the Consultant's birthday to La Coppola in Leamington Spa ( http://www.lacoppola.co.uk/ )
We had a really fantastic meal, which was not so diet-friendly....! But well worth it! If you go, have the antipasto starter to share - it's wonderful.

Otherwise, I've been making slow, if steady progres, of losing just a little weight each week. Cutting down on the wine has helped I think. And possibly drinking the green tea. And I haven't really had any cravings for anything. And I read that green tea can help with that too. So I haven't had the urge to stuff myself with chocolate biscuits... which is good.

I can't imagine how hard it must be if you really need to radically change your eating patterns to lose a significant amount of weight. No wonder we have such a major obesity problem in the UK. Losing weight just ain't easy....

Regime updates - #1!

2009-07-06T09:22:00.002+01:00

Ok, I have two regimes to update you on - the writing and the diet...! So here goes with the writing update.

Regimes are good. They're good for discipline. They're good for motivation. They're good for certainty and inducing feelings of security.

What they are not good at is flexibility. And adapting to the 'real world.'

So. If you remember, Stephen King's advice was to write 1000 words six days a week. On my writing days - which are mainly Mon, Tues and Wed. I have been writing well over 2000 words a day. Just having that metaphorical bar set at a minimum of 1000 words has been really good for me. So I've knocked out the rough drafts of a couple of short stories at least....

The problem for me comes on the days when I don't have specific time set aside for writing, and have kids running round the place, and a business to administrate and a home to look after. Also, my writing time has been eaten into in the last week or so, and will certainly continue to be so, by demands such as making a mermaid costume, attending 2 sports days, going to 2 school meetings, collecting a 'new-to-us' car, helping out with the school library, entertaining two sets of friends and relations, and sundry other jobs and responsibilities....

I think when you have young kids, mine are both under 5, you inevitably have to be flexible with your time, because things just happen, like Dear Daughter coming home on Monday saying she needs a mermaid costume by Friday....

I'm not doing Stephen King down, because he is clearly a very determined writer who worked hard for his success, but I can't help noting that it is he who is the more successful writer, not his wife, Tabitha.

Maybe she was looking after the kids and making the mermaid costumes, while he was banging out his 2000 words a day.....

By the way, I'm not complaining, and I'm not making excuses - my challenge is to find creative ways of squeezing writing time out of my normal days and evenings, even with the kids ripping up the place. I also have to bear in mind that my kids will be around less and less as time goes on. I have one more year with Small Son around until he's at school full time too. And then there'll be no excuse for not making my 1000 words, at least 5 days a week! But at the moment I have to be kind to myself, and also appreciate where I am at the moment. I don't want to wish away the last year of my son's babyhood, just to lever in a few more hours writing time....

New writing regime

2009-06-23T12:14:00.004+01:00

(Aaarrgh! This is my second attempt to write this post. Save it, Claire, save it!)

I've been reading Stephen King 'On Writing', which I mentioned in a previous post. It's a good read - part memoir, part writing manual.

One piece of advice that stuck with me was on productivity. I have a tendency to fiddle about on the internet, write my blog, make a few notes and tinker about with a bit of prose and then call that a morning's work. It really isn't.

King has a regime under which he writes 2000 words a day. No excuses. No get-out. He talks about the discipline of showing up for work each day and getting the words down on paper. It's a training. He advises beginner writers to have a similar rule - 1000 words six days a week. (Only one day off otherwise you lose the flow)

Here's what he says about the job of writing -

'In an early interview..a radio talk-show host asked me how I wrote. My reply - 'One word at a time' - seemingly left him without a reply. I think he was trying to decide whether or not I was joking. I wasn't. In the end, it's always that simple. Whether it's a vignette of a single page or an epic trilogy...the work is always accomplished one word at a time.'

So here I am. New regime. No excuses!

Parenthood...

2009-06-22T21:40:00.002+01:00

I know I said that treading on a piece of Lego was my initiation into parenthood, but I can now go one better.

Today I attended Dear Daughter's first Parents' Evening. Proud mother? Who, me?!

She has been doing fine, it seems, so big sighs of relief all round. And she's nice to teach too, apparently! So that's good.

The only criticism her teacher made was that she occasionally goes off into her own little world or gets out of her seat and wanders around for a bit - kind of zones out.

Takes after her mother...(again)

Solstice feasting..

2009-06-21T22:37:00.002+01:00

We had the good fortune to be invited to a lovely summer solstice BBQ at a friend's house this weekend.

Dear Daughter was most impressed by the selection of food on offer (as were we!), and nibbled her way around the table quite contentedly. Her cup runneth over when she spotted the chocolate fountain on the desert table, surrounded by piles of strawberries, marshmallows and bananas, ready to be dipped into the dark velvet liquid chocolate.

What did she select to place on a skewer to be dipped?

Black olives.

Yes. Of course she did.

Mad. Quite mad.

Takes after her mother....

On television...

2009-06-17T19:01:00.002+01:00

Having spent the last few months salivating over an increasing number of books in the 'to read' pile, I finally have the luxury to get on with a few of them, thanks to the completion of the OU course.

I have just started Stephen King 'On Writing - A Memoir of the Craft'. I'm not normally a fan of his writing, not being particularly into horror etc, but I have had this book recommended so many times that I finally gave in and bought it. (Amazon love me, they really do....)

Anyway, I can't tell you too much at the moment as I've only read a few chapters but something he said about television really struck me. I don't watch a lot of TV, the reason being that I find it really hard to control. If I sit down at 7.30 or 8 for half an hour, that's me gone, sitting there like a zombie till it's bedtime and I have achieved precisely nothing. And most of what I am watching is rubbish. Entertaining? Yes. Addictive? Yes. But, like fast food, ultimately not very good for me. There are some programming exceptions to this, but they are quite few and far between. I just find TV to be, on the whole, such a time-wasting, brain-deactivating activity. (Of course, there are days when that is perfect for my needs, but not many, I hope!)

I just wanted to quote Stephen King on television, though, and see what you think? These remarks follow a story about how Stephen's brother, David, blew out the power in their apartment block, trying to make a school science project...

'But TV came relatively late to the King household, and I'm glad. I am, when you stop to think about it, a member of a fairly select group: the final handful of American novelists who learned to read and write before they learned to eat a daily helping of video bullshit. This might not be important. On the other hand, if you're just starting out as a writer, you could do worse than strip your television's electric plug-wire, wrap a spike around it, and then stick it back into the wall. See what blows, and how far.
Just an idea.'
(Stephen King, 'On Writing')

Now, where did I put those pliers....

Sorry, but..

2009-06-15T22:02:00.003+01:00

Sorry, but my blog is now morphing from one of those diet blogs into one of those blogs about the funny things that peoples' kids say...

At the weekend we had our back fence replaced by Les, who is a mate of my dad's from down the pub who used to be a fencer but now drives buses. Because he now drives buses he only had the weekend to finish the job, so he brought his mate with him, who was a pretty scary-looking big shaven-headed, tattooed bloke. I took one look at him and thought, 'This is going to be interesting...'

Dear daughter takes one look at him through our patio window and runs into the kitchen like a rat up a drainpipe.
'Mummy, Mummy, there's a man with a big, fat, shiny head in our garden, with patterns on his ears!'
'Yes, he has. They're called tattooes.'
(I won't bore you with the exchange that then went on about what tattooes were, and whether or not they are a Good Thing, especially as Small Son joined in the debate, stating that he'd quite like to have one. He's three.)

Anyway, the fascination went on all weekend. The poor man couldn't move without two small children eyeing him up. The tattoo debate was livened up somewhat when the bloke revealed that the tattooes on his arms were, in fact, his childrens' names. I could see my kids processing this information and then wondering why their dad didn't have their names tatooed on his arms.

Why not, indeed?!

P.S. 2 days to go till weigh-in. Have not done well this week - 3 beers and 5 biscuits so far.... my self-control is laughable, but I don't see how anyone can resist a cold beer on a hot day... So don't get excited. I'll probably have put weight on...

Happy days..

2009-06-15T11:21:00.002+01:00

White Russian. The drink. Love it. But only by the swimming pool in France during the summer. It's a rule - it's our 'holiday drink' and,as such, does not pass our lips at any other time of the year.

Do you know what's in it? Well, as far as I can remember it's vodka, kahlua and milk. It's like an alcoholic coffee milkshake. Just think 'The Big Lebowski' and that's us during the summer - bathrobes, board shorts and White Russians.

'Hey, careful man, there's a beverage here!'

I can't wait for summer!

The big weigh-in

2009-06-12T21:04:00.002+01:00

I just want to let you know that this is not going to turn into some crazy diet blog where I start chuntering on about eating baby food or cabbage soup etc....

However...

I weighed myself yesterday having been on the first week of my 'diet'. This has consisted of eating my normal three meals a day, but not drinking any booze, or eating any biscuits ('Raise your hands in the air and move away from the biscuit tin. Move away. Now!') Basically I've been trying not to snack, which is hard when you live in a house with 2 kids who would snack all day if you let them...

So. I wasn't expecting miracles. I haven't increased my exercise regime or drastically dropped my calorie intake. But I was very pleased to discover that I have lost 1.5kg this week. So that's not bad, eh? I'd like to lose about another 3 kilos or so, so it's not a major diet, but I guess it might get harder.

One thing I have been doing, which I read about, is drinking green and white tea. Apparently, there is evidence that these teas can help with weight loss, as well as being very good for you in other ways, too! I have drunk them in the past on and off, as I don't really drink coffee much, but since I've been on my mini-diet, I've been drinking green tea instead of normal or earl grey.

So, it's going ok so far. We'll see how this week pans out... Time for a green tea, I think. Off to put the kettle on.

Be updated..

2009-06-10T20:44:00.003+01:00

I so did not have a relaxing weekend, as hoped for in my last post. Child Number 1 vomited profusely on Friday night and Child Number 2 spent Saturday night with the runs. Thanks kids.
This stomach bug, or whatever it is, is proving stubbornly resistant. The kids are still off school and likely to be for the rest of the week, unless tomorrow brings relief. I am about tearing my hair out, because they aren't really ill, apart from an occasional unusually urgent need to visit the smallest room... So finding things to occupy them in the house all week has been fun...! We have done a lot of craft, put it that way. To add insult to injury, I have been charged with the duty of collecting the stool samples (and I don't mean a three-legged sitting device) to send off for analysis. Don't mums get the best jobs?!

From one type of shit to another.... I'm also not in such a good place with the writing. I made a fatal mistake, you see. I stopped. After I finished my OU course, I had a couple of days not writing while we went on holiday, which has now stretched to a couple of weeks. The children being under my feet a lot has not helped, but I need to get back up on that horse, and pronto! It's very wierd; the less I write, the worse I feel, and the more depresesd I get, and then the less I want to write. So it's a matter of breaking the cycle, and getting back into the swing of it. I felt awful yesterday; a combination of poorly kids, nasty cold shivery weather, broken commitments, and tiredness. But today is better. The sun shone a bit, and I cheered up, especially when I read a bit in Maureen Lipman's book that made me laugh out loud. I love her. She's great!

Oh yes, and I'm weighing a bit heavy at the moment, so booze is out and salad is in, during the week, in a bid to lose that half stone that seems to have appeared from nowhere.... So, I'll be a bit thinner (with any luck), but will probably lose my sense of humour entirely.

Watch this space....

Bee update!

2009-06-04T19:48:00.002+01:00

Well it's all looking good. The bees are no longer hanging around the old site, looking lost, and are busily going in and out of the bird box on the new post. They don't seem to hvae suffered any ill-effects. And they're right next to my runner beans so they can pollinate them when they flower. Hurray!

Feeling pretty tired tonight - dear husband, or as he shall hereafter be known - 'The Consultant', has been away since last Sunday morning and I have had a very busy week, what with the bees and all...

So looking forward to a nice relaxing weekend.

Yeah. Right.

Bumbling around

2009-06-03T10:31:00.003+01:00

We're having some new fences. Not the most exciting subject for a post, I know. But wait! Attached to the fence post on the old fence that is due to be taken down is a bird box. No problem, I thought. It's vacant. Except it isn't. Some bumble bees have taken up residence there and built a nest. Les is coming to put the new fences in next week. What to do? I definitely didn't want to have to have the bees destroyed. Bees are facing enough problems at the moment. As well as the threat from climate change, they are being systematically attacked by a parasitic mite which kills them, with many hives having been wiped out. See this link - http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/sci/tech/374184.stm

Bumble bees are placid creatures and no threat or nuisance, apart from where they have decided to build their nest.
So I went online (good old t'tinternet) and found instructions on how to move a bees nest. Then I rang my dad. (good old dad) And between me and dad and a torch covered with a red noodle packet (bees can't see red light very well apparently!), we moved the bees last night to a new fence post just a few metres away. There was a slight hiccup when we realised we hadn't quite covered all the holes in the bird box and a few bees escaped, but we managed to move the nest without too much difficulty. Apparently, you have to keep the nest upright, because if you don't, then their honey pots spill. Sweet.
I went out to check on them this morning and they were coming and going from the bird box seemingly unaffected. There were a few bees hanging around the old fence post looking a bit confused, but I'm hoping the others will be able to lead them back to the new location.
So, all in all, a good result, I hope. I'll keep you posted on how my little colony get on.

Reasons to be cheerful:

2009-05-19T10:23:00.003+01:00

I've finished my OU course! I braved the queues at the only Post Office left in a 50 mile radius and sent my 5000 words of blood, sweat and tears off to Milton Keynes.
My great friend is coming to see me today. He's making an exception for me and is heading north of the Watford Gap. I hope he's prepared for the provinces...
We're going out for lunch, and wine will be involved, I'm sure of it...
My kids are both at school till 3.30 - freedom!
My husband should be making a guest appearance at home later today - feels like he's been away forever...
I've got a shelf of tasty novels lined up waiting to be read - summertime's for reading, don't you think?
I can't take any more doom and gloom!! So. No TV news or newspapers for me today - what you don't know can't hurt you!

Have a great day everyone!

The end in sight

2009-05-18T10:29:00.002+01:00

Firstly, many apologies for my lack of blog in the last few weeks. Have been working on my long project for the OU Creative Writing course I have been doing this year.

It has been an interesting process. This is my second year of study with the OU and I can really see an improvement and development in my writing. In particular, this year has really seen my drafting and critical skills come along, and I can now see more clearly where I go wrong, even if I don't quite know yet how to make it right again!

So I have worked on and polished the piece of writing for my final assessment and, although I feel like I could go on forever tinkering with it, I am quite pleased that I have managed to sustain my concentration and focus to produce a more developed piece of writing.

Where to go from here? After tomorrow, when this is posted off to the OU, I am officially On My Own... My tutor this year has recommended an MA for further study, but it's a lot of money to spend.... About £4000. Seems a lot for something that may go no further than a 'hobby'.

But, writing is an increasingly 'professionalised' activity, like so many others, and if I ever wanted to teach Creative Writing, I would really need to have an MA. So maybe I'll consider it.

As for this week, once this is in the post, I'm going to go and have a massage and then a large gin and tonic! Cheers!

Not enough hours...

2009-05-05T09:27:00.002+01:00

I have precisely 3 weeks to finish my final project for my Creative Writing course. If I complete it and pass, I'll get my Diploma from the Open University, so it's the last hurdle (this year anyway). I have also promised myself that I will blog on my 'work days' before I sit down to write - to kind of get the writing juices flowing if you know what I mean... Tuesdays are my free day - both kids out of the way until 3.30pm. And so of course in usual fashion, I have volunteered to help at the school library, and have a meeting about that at lunchtime. And two friends have just texted seeing if I want to have coffee!!! Aaaarghh! There just aren't enough hours in the day! This story is never going to get finished. Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing as I'm severely lacking in enthusiasm for it today!

More seeds...

2009-04-26T22:13:00.002+01:00

I am disproportionately excited by the fact that my pumpkin seeds have sprouted! I am a member of a vegetable farming co-operative - the wonderful Canalside Community Farm (see my favourite websites for a link) and last year we had pumpkins as part of our vegetable share. I kept some of the seeds and dried them and last week I planted them in compost. And they've grown! I know this might seem like a pretty obvious train of events but I'm very new to this gardening business, and it just feels so great to see that little green shoot appearing out of the soil. It makes me feel all green-fingered.
Also, this weekend, I bought a mini-pond (Lidl again...!) and so my tadpoles have a new home! I'm sure I will be keeping you updated with the development of the tadpoles.. At the moment we're at the wiggly tail, no legs stage. Will keep you posted on back leg appearance!

Planting the seeds

2009-04-20T21:43:00.002+01:00

I did some gardening today. The weather has been beautiful, so we took the opportunity to plant out some of our seeds in the raised vegetable beds we've had put in. (these are going to be the most expensive carrots known to man...) So I planted leeks, red onions, carrots, beetroot, pumpkins and radishes. We wait with bated breath to see if they come up. They'll probably all get eaten by the birds...
It's nice though, getting your hands in the soil. Makes you feel like you've achieved something in your day.
The kids are still resisting the new back-to-school regime.They consistently and quite happily refuse to do anything I say at the moment. I have been screeching like a fishwife at them and only succeeding in getting myself in a twist. Time to think of a new tactic...

Back to reality..

2009-04-18T21:34:00.002+01:00

We're back in the UK. School starts next week. It's back down to earth with a bump. I'm trying to get the kids back into some kind of routine. They are resisting. Having run wild for three and a half weeks, they are not keen on early bedtimes...
We had quite an eventful journey back through France, almost (literally) bumping into a family of wild boar, complete with little piglets. Dear Daughter was screeching, 'Look at the hairy pigs, Mummy!' as they sat in the middle of the road. I was just a bit concerned about how we were going to get past them if they refused to move. Man, they're big! And pretty ugly looking too!
Anyway, they decided to trot along eventually, and we made our way northwards, through the night.
We got the day ferry and arrived back in the UK on Thursday night. Since then it's been a constant round of washing and trying to get back into gear for the new term.
Wish we could be on holiday forever...!

Bonnes Paques!

2009-04-12T13:42:00.002+01:00

Happy Easter from South-west France. it's a horrible day here - grey and misty and raining that really fine rain that gets you really wet..! The kids have done their Easter Egg Hunt in the barns; with the mice, woodstore, pots of paint, strimmers, spades, old carts, sets of skis, dusty, empty wine bottles with wicker around them, birds nests and a football table. (amongst other things)
We have taken refuge by the woodburning stove, and are in comfortable and quiet seclusion with some good books, a laptop and our Easter chocolate supply. Bliss!
Back to the UK on Thursday - real life beckons...

Am I getting on a bit??

2009-04-10T20:25:00.002+01:00

Today I have been called both 'wise' and 'sensible' by two different friends. I'm not quite sure how I feel about this. On the one hand it is flattering to be thought of in this way by one's friends, however sweetly misguided they might be, but on the other hand, it does make me feel...well, a bit old!

I really, really don't feel in the least wise. Most of the time I feel like I'm in a dark room groping around for the light switch. And I don't feel sensible, even if most of the time I'm forced to behave as though I am. The 'me' I am familiar with is at the mercy of her emotions, selfish, stubborn, argumentative and grumpy most of the time. Just as well I try not to share her with the rest of the world...

So, I guess I can work towards 'wise' and 'sensible' - Well one has to live up to one's reputation, after all!

Happy Birthday

2009-04-08T20:56:00.002+01:00

I have just realised that I have missed celebrating the first anniversary of this blog by a few days. my first post was written on 4th April 2008, and here we are, a whole year later.

What has changed? The kids are a whole year older and bigger and are needing me less and less (and more and more in some ways) each day. So I have more time for writing now than I did a year ago. And how do I feel about that? Well, happy obviously, but a little ambivalent too. While childrearing duties kept me from my writing, it was easy to dream about it. Now the reality of doing it is here, it's easy to get scared and wonder what I was thinking... But we plod onwards as always.

It's the little things

2009-04-06T18:03:00.002+01:00

Now I remember why I come here to this little corner of south-west France.
A wonderfully sunny warm Spring day with a soft breeze. A perfect washing day, so three or four loads of washing gets done and hung on the washing lines strung between the wild plum trees that are all in blossom. The white flowers against the bright blue sky are luscious. I always feel like I've achieved something when I've got washing done and dried!
While waiting for the sheets to dry, I wander off down the field which is all grassy meadow with daisies, clover and dandilions. I can hear the bees buzzing so loudly they sound like mini-airships. I lie down in a patch of daisies and watch an aeroplane going over at very high altitude leaving a trail of vapour across the blue.
We eat lunch outside - a simple, but fantastic, meal of homemade bread, sliced tomatoes, cheese and olives. Food always tastes better when the sun is shining.
What small simple pleasures this day has brought.

Must get on...

2009-04-05T11:29:00.002+01:00

Have ensconsed myself in front of the wood burning stove with my laptop. I really have to get on with this assessment that was due in last Friday. I was granted an extension but I want to get it handed in as quickly as possible. However it's difficult to concentrate when the sun is shining outside, and there are 320 terracotta tiles that need seasoning with linseed oil...
Summoning up the energy to finish this OU course is proving a challenge. I've commited myself to a long project that I think I have really lost enthusiasm for. Oh well.
Have just glanced over and noticed that I have brought my writing work to France in a jute bag emblazoned with the words 'Warwickshire Waste Partnership'.
Seems somehow appropriate...

Hello, Bonjour and Hola!

2009-04-04T22:06:00.004+01:00

Well, I've been in three countries in the last week! Started out in the UK last week. Drove to France, and then down to Spain and then back to France, where the flag is aloft as we are in residence.
We went to Spain to ski. To a fab place called Baqueira-Beret. Took the kids and had a great time. Dear Daughter has decided she is an expert skiier requiring no tuition. Bearing in mind this is only her second time on skis, and she is only 4, she has decided to bypass snowplough almost entirely, opting insted for parallel turns and a casual style that is quite incredible. Small Son has chosen the kamikasi approach of bombing downhill with straight skis and falling over to stop... It is quite amazing to see how much they have progressed. They are going to be better than me in no time at all, although that won't really be too hard...
The Spanish are just brilliant with the kids as well - getting them on and off the ski lifts and in the restaurants and shops. They just love kids as a cultural thing, in a way that we so don't in the UK. Although you can go out in Spain, and there won't necessarily be a high chair or a changing table, they are just so welcoming and accomodating and accepting of the children. Dear Daughter and Small Son got totally over-excited, as in a lot of the shops they were giving the kids sweets or lollies!
We're back at the farm in France now. The weather has been lovely today, and my skiing tan is looking like it could spread further if the sun keeps shining. I know, I know, I should look after my skin, but I really NEED this sun! I can feel myself starting to unfurl...!

The longer you leave it, the harder it gets...

2009-03-04T21:22:00.002Z

This could apply to so many things...

But I'm talking about writing; for the blog, and in general.

I've been having what I have come to recognise as my usual winter hibernation. I think I can safely say that winter is not a good time for me. I don't know if it is the dark short days, or the cold, or what, but I have been fighting off the winter blues since Christmas, and before. In fact, once the clocks change in October, that's me done for, really. Until the days start to lengthen out and the snowdrops and crocuses appear, I just want to get into bed and sleep. And I do. But I can't get up again. I bought myself one of those alarm clocks that gradually wakes you up by simulating dawn with a light that gets slowly brighter. And this has worked to a certain extent. I have certainly been feeling a lot less groggy when I wake up.

But the motivation and desire to write just seems to leave me in the winter, and I think dark thoughts, and stew in my own depressive and pessimistic juices. However, for the first time I am remembering that it doesn't last forever, as nothing does. I can feel it starting to lift. Hence, here I am. Scribbling again. So, I'd like to welcome myself back. Hi there stranger.

Even better than that...!

2009-01-19T09:13:00.002Z

Ok, so I send Husband to Lidl to get some wine. We have friends staying, and I should know better than to send two men unaccompanied to a shop, but I was a bit harrassed and I thought there would be safety in numbers. So off they go, clean handkerchiefs and shiny faces...

An hour later they're back with three boxes of wine. Sensible choices, so far so good.

Then they vanish. They're not in the garage or the garden, and not downstairs in the house. And they're very quiet. I smell a rat. I go in search. I find them in Husband's office huddled over an object.
'What's going on here then?' I enquire.
They leap apart as though caught with a bomb. No-one speaks.
'So, you got the wine, then?' I start conversationally, trying to draw them out...
Husband's eyes light up with a maniacal glow.
'Even better than that!' he says, 'We got a microscope! And it's got a camera for the computer!'

A microscope. I ask you. Never mind that we're a no-income family at the moment, until said Consultant Husband actually does some Consultancy.

Don't let them out alone with a cashcard. You're asking for trouble...

I am now a mother....

2009-01-13T10:38:00.003Z

I now feel well and truly initiated into the world of parenthood.

I Knelt On Some Lego.

God, it hurt.

I can forsee years of stumbling through lakes and oceans of Lego.

And, as my eyesight diminishes with each passing year, so the sodding pieces of Lego get smaller and smaller....

What kind of cruelty is that...?

Reading habits...

2009-01-12T10:50:00.003Z

I am a reader. I would love to be an avid reader, and used to be one when I had the luxury of time, but unfortunately there just aren't enough hours in the day. I am also a terrible buyer of books. I have a whole shelf of lovely new books waiting to be read, but if I see another one in a shop or online that I think I might like, I just have to have it. I'm definitely addicted to buying books in the same way that some people are addicted to buying face creams or designer jeans. Like them, I believe that this will change my life. Although I reckon I have a better chance of a book changing my life, than a cosmetic product... So I'm quite defiant about my addiction really....

You may ask, why doesn't she use the library? Well, I do that as well, although slashed library boook budgets are making the selection less and less appealing...

But there is something about owning the book, being the first one to open the pristine pages, smelling that new book smell, feeling the paper.... This brings to mind the fact that I am also a bit obsessed with notebooks, and actually pretty dislike having to write in a new one. So maybe I'm just fixated on paper - perhaps I should become a book binder...

Now, what do I read? This post was actually conceived of when I was reading an interview with the children's writer Eoin Colfer on the splendid Bookwitch blog (http://www.bookwitch.wordpress.com/)

He said that when he was in his twenties he went through a phase where he read nothing but serial killer books, but now he is older he has become squeamish and doesn't like it when people get hurt.

This is SO me! I used to read Patricia Cornwell and all sorts of murder stuff. Now, since I had my own children, I can't stomach anything like that at all. I can't even watch Prime Suspect or anything that remotely has anything bad happening to children... And I really cannot understand why anyone would want to read a misery memoir. That's just voyeuristically wierd, in my view.

I have definitely gone soft, and it doesn't bother me on a personal level, as I have adjusted my reading habits to cope. But I do worry about my writing a little, as I wonder if all my characters are just destined to be 'nice', and the main action may just involve them all having a nice cup of tea and a sit down. God forbid if I ever have to kill anyone off - they may have to live to 96 and drift away in a nice soft bed surrounded by their nearst and dearest...

Ah well, soft I may be, but children and puppies and kittens are safe with me...

Out with the old and in with the new

2008-12-30T19:32:00.002Z

It's the day before New Years Eve. We've just returned home from what feels like our million mile round trip visiting relatives.

And there's just time to take a breath before the festivities begin again tomorrow!

It has all beeen good, if busy. I had imagined that there would be time for me to creep away into a corner with a notebook and pen or a novel for an hour or two, but no. But the kids loved it, and excitement reached epic proportions on Christmas Day. And that was just mine :-)

The only downside was that Dear Daughter has flared up in what can only be described as eczema, although she has never had it before. So she had a trip to my parents-in-law's GP in Sheffield this morning and now has an antibiotic and hydrocortisone cream to try to clam her skin down. Very wierd. I can only conclude it's a combination of late nights, rich food, new clothes next to the skin and a change of washing powder. Who knows?

By the way, I got that assignment back; the one I wrote in a high fever a few weeks ago. I got a very respectable II.i - nearly a First!
I shall have to try to induce fever before every deadline in future...

Wishing everyone a Very Merry New Year.

Twas the night before Christmas....

2008-12-24T18:01:00.003Z

And all through the house, I panicked and worried, and here shall I grouse:-

My head is about to explode, but I've nearly finished the Christmas preparations. It all went relatively smoothly, I suppose, apart from a misunderstanding over who was getting the turkey which would have led to a vegetarian Christmas dinner, had I not called my Mother in time...

I now just have the kids' presents to wrap, the Christmas cake to ice, and the house to tidy...

Hmmm.

Think I might just break out the Pimms Winter Cup and leave the wrapping till later...

A very merry Christmas to one and all, and warmest winter wishes for the festive season.

Oh yes...

2008-12-19T23:39:00.002Z

..and while I had the flu, I had an assessment due in on the OU creative writing course. I did it and submitted it, while sweating out a high fever. Hmm, not sure what strange hallucinatory thoughts may have found their way in there... Who knows, it may be my best work!

Excuse for not blogging No.358

2008-12-19T23:30:00.002Z

This time it's the flu. No honestly. I know you'd probably struggle to think of a disease we haven't had in the family in the last couple of months; chicken pox, ear infections, leprosy (ok, well perhaps not the leprosy) but we seriously all got the flu on the same day, and are just now getting over it. It was horrible. For us, for the kids, for anyone who inadvertently stumbled into our plague pit of a house. There were people sweating and shivering all over the place. I completely lost my appetite and still haven't got it back properly (hoping that won't last, as planning to eat my weight in Christmas fare very soon..!) Our coughs were rattling the window frames...

Anyway, now we're just starting to get over it, and - bloody hell! It's Christmas next week! So instead of treating myself gently and eating homemade chicken soup, I'm charging frantically around the place trying to get myself organised.

Oh well, at least we won't get the flu for Christmas...

Rant of the day - Christmas presents

2008-12-01T22:51:00.003Z

I received a letter from the parent representative for Dear Daughter's Reception class. Amongst all the Christmas admin was this:-

'Apparently it is tradition that the class buy a Christmas gift for Mrs Teacher and Mrs Classroom Assistant - if you would like me to coordinate this and contribute to a joint gift then please let me have your contribution. £10 has been suggested to me as a suitable guideline. I would plan on buying the gifts during the weekend of 13th Dec and therefore if you want me to go ahead with this please could I have the money by Friday 12th...'

So I replied with the following email:-

I have to say, I was a bit taken aback by the idea of a joint Christmas gift for the teachers. I'm not shooting the messenger, so don't think this is aimed at you! But I would be grateful if you could pass my comments on to whoever mentioned this 'tradition'. I have thought about this a lot. I considered just handing over the money, and swallowing any feelings I had, as I was worried about appearing to be making a fuss about nothing, or seeming to be a bit 'Bah Humbug', which I am not at all! But, on reflection I feel quite strongly about it, and there are a few things I object to:-

It seems to me to go against the essence of what Christmas is about - the pleasure taken in selecting and giving a gift, from one person to another. I am trying to teach Dear Daughter about the pleasure in giving, by letting her make or select Christmas presents for the important people in her life. In the arrangement suggested, the children will have no role in the choosing and presenting of a gift to their teachers. A joint present selected by the parent rep and given to the teachers seems to cut the children out of the process completely and turn it into something else entirely - a gift from the parents to the teachers. It is not that I object to the amount of money, as one could easily spend £5 per teacher on a small gift, (although if every child in the class contributed the suggested £10, it would produce a fund of £170, which seems a little excessive for two Christmas gifts, especially in the current climate!) but it's the fact that it is actually specified as a requested amount that seems a little mercenary! I'm sure that the teachers would prefer one large gift than twenty small ones, but I think it is important to remember what this is actually about. As far as I am concerned, giving a gift to a teacher at Christmas is about the child appreciating the care the teacher has given them, and marking the 'specialness' of the relationship. It should not be about the parents just getting their cheque books out... And, most importantly, deciding whether or not to give a gift should be the decision of the child and parent, and not requested or expected by the school! I have spoken about this with a number of teachers, both currently working and retired, and none of them have ever heard of this practice. They all thought it was pretty appalling, to be honest!

Anyway, all that said, before I received your note Dear Daughter and I had already chosen gifts for Mrs Teacher and Mrs Classroom Assistant, so I won't be contributing to a joint gift this year.

Fellow bloggers, was I wrong??

Short posts

2008-11-27T16:29:00.001Z

Have you noticed how my posts are getting shorter and shorter?

It's the credit crunch - it'll soon be last word in, first word out....

Used car salesmen

2008-11-27T16:27:00.002Z

Aaaagrhhh!!! Just aarghh!

Can't live with them. Can't kill them and bury them under the forecourt of their showroom...

Christmas Theatricals Part Two...

2008-11-26T18:46:00.002Z

Ok. Now this just isn't funny.

Yesterday I go into kindergarten to collect Small Son, to be told that he is goinng to be joining in the same Early Years Christmas production as Dear Daughter. Ahh, how sweet, I think. For about ten seconds. Until I realise he's going to need a costume too....

He's a Christmas Tree.

Birthday party

2008-11-22T15:27:00.003Z

I took Small Son to a 4 year old's birthday party today. Let's call him Eric. Eric's parents have a most wonderful Victorian villa with beautifully furnished rooms with stripped wood floors. At the party there was (in no particular order):
A disco
A children's entertainer
A chocolate fountain
A piniatta
A table groaning with expensive drinks and nibbles from Waitrose for the adults
Party bags, prizes, cake..

It was all lovely, but the thing is, where do you go from here..?! If you give them all that when they're 4, what will they want when they're 8, 9 and 10?

It makes my child's little lunch, with a party bag containing a piece of cake and a balloon seem a bit of a poor show...

Christmas theatricals...

2008-11-21T20:22:00.004Z

Dear Daughter came home from school today with a letter. It gave details of the Reception Class Christmas Production, to be staged in approximately three weeks. I came over all misty-eyed at the thought of Mary, Joseph and the Donkey. With visions of my little blonde daughter in an angel halo, I eagerly glanced down the letter to the point at which it read:-

Your child will play the role of a Cracker.
Her line is - 'The winner gets to keep the toy'

(She's playing a what?! I'm sure they didn't have them in Bethlehem... And what's all this about winners and toys?!)

But the best was yet to come:-

Please will you provide your child with a suitable costume to wear on the day?

Ha!!

I was on the phone to my mother before the ink had dried on the letter. Watch this space!

The light, the light...!

2008-11-05T21:42:00.002Z

We have emerged from quarantine status finally. I feel like I've been underground for weeks! The kids have gone back to school and some semblance of normality (and my sanity) has returned. I have been to my meditation group, always a relaxing evening. I'm now trying to summon up the energy to get up and go to bed. It just always seems easier to sit there in front of the computer and read or write stuff.

I have embarked on the second part of the OU course, which is writing drama. I'm a bit anxious about this, I have to admit, as I've never written any drama before. But, fortune favours the brave, so I've been the first one to post an exercise I did on the tutorial group forum. So far only one comment, but that seems fairly favourable so I'll press on regardless.

I still haven't posted about all our life changes going on at the moment. It seems like it deserves a post all of its own really, but I've been so tired recently. So you'll have to make do with the potted version. Which is:

Dear Husband has left job. I have no job. We have no money coming in. The intention is that Dear Husband will continue to provide our daily bread by working for himself. However, we did not reckon on a worldwide global financial crisis... Oh well, we'll just have to see how it all pans out. As long as I don't have to go back to work, I don't care. I think we'd have to be starving before I dusted off my nasty lawyer persona...

So that's it really. Oh, and did I mention they took the company car back, and then I put a huge dent in the side of my ancient Peugeot 206. (that story probably deserves a post of its own too..)

Ho hum.

By the way...

2008-10-31T12:55:00.002Z

I have been fiddling about a bit with the layout on my blog. This actually involves telling my dear husband, who has more technological capability than I will ever hope or dream of having, what I want it to look like. He has then rewritten some of the code to make the text panel wider. The only thing is that this has made the graphics look all a bit 'home made'. I can't get the rounded corners etc. And he hasn't got time to fix it for me at the moment.

But I think it's better than trying to read down a very narrow strip. Do you agree?

Resigned to our fate...

2008-10-30T12:20:00.000Z

Dear Daughter now has the pox too. I'm resigned to it. I know the routine now - no sleep, dab with calamine lotion, repeat ad infinitum...
It's ok though, cos at least it's over and done with, and because it's half term here the kids won't have to miss school. (although that is one of the perks of having it, I would have thought..)
I'm feeling ok, if a little tired and frazzled. None of my jobs have got done, but what the hell. Life's too short to worry about admin.
The only downside really is that (of course) my OU assessment is due in tomorrow, so that has been a bit of a cobbled-together dogs breakfast of a short story. Oh well, will just have to try harder next time...
Have more news about our life getting turned upside down, but that will have to wait for the next post...

Fed up...

2008-10-21T21:04:00.000+01:00

It's official. I'm fed up. The kids are fed up. We're all fed up.

It's half term and Small Son has chicken pox and I'm waiting irritably for Dear Daughter to take her turn. We can't go anywhere as people look at Small Son like he's got the Plague. So we're all at home getting on each others' nerves...
The kids are driving me insane this week by being obsessed with blowing raspberries, and seeing who can talk for longest using the words, 'wee', 'poo', 'bum', 'pooper', 'farting pants' etc etc.
I'm sure there must have been a time when I would have found that funny too, but by god it feels like it was a long while ago...

My kids are making me feel ancient - like some grumpy old misery, obsessed with table manners and politeness. I've lost my sense of humour today! I'm sure I didn't intend to turn into my mother, but I think it's happening. (That sounds like my mother is a grumpy old misery, which she isn't at all. But I remember wishing sometimes when I was a kid that she would just 'lighten up' a bit. Now she's as light as a feather and positively encourages my kids in their craziness - just as all good grandparents should...)

Anyway, both kids had been on the 'naughty step' by 9 am this morning. I think that must be a record.

The Pox...

2008-10-17T19:51:00.001+01:00

It's official. Paint a red cross on our front door. We have The Chicken Pox. Or rather Small Son does. A couple of itchy spots on Wednesday night have now developed into a whole body coverage (and I mean whole) of nasty red itchy pustules.. I would post a photo, but it would put you off your dinner.

He 's not really that ill, just very, very grumpy and itchy and fed up. No-one has slept very well the last couple of nights, but at least his night-time wanderings are justified at the moment, unlike his recent activities..

And I keep scratching. I've had chicken pox and so I hope I'm just coming out in sympathy, what with being chronically sleep-deprived and all, but knowing my luck, I'll get it again.

I'm just waiting for Dear Daughter to get it now...

Seventies photos....

2008-10-13T13:46:00.000+01:00

These photos are of me. They are (ahem) around thirty years old. A friend of my parents took them, and recently he found them, scanned in the negatives, retouched them and emailed them to me. The wonders of modern technology...

I just love them, particularly the one of me with the bridge behind. It seems almost fairy-tale like. There is a quality to film, as opposed to digital, which is hard to define, but which is tangible nevertheless.

Blogging block..

2008-10-13T11:39:00.000+01:00

I have this wierd thing going on. Whenever I am out and about and not logged on to the internet, I have great ideas for things to blog about. Then, when I sit down at the computer, my mind is entirely blank.

So I had a clever idea: I would write down the subject matters for bogs in a little notebook and then I wouldn't forget. The only problem is that I have done this, and I have a list of topics and not the faintest idea what I was going to say about any of them. What, for example, was I going to say about 'Jamie Oliver', other than that he's a bit irritating...? Or was it just that?

There are some topics which I was clearly feeling a bit ambitious about. How does a blog entitled 'The Pursuit of Happiness' grab you? Sounds possibly interesting, but I have absolutely no recollection of what I was going to say on the subject...

It's the same for my writing too. I have (what seem like) great ideas for short stories just when I'm dropping off to sleep so I scribble them down in a notebook by my bed. The next day, my wonderful idea has been reduced to 'girl in shop, dog, piece of bacon' or something like that.

Ahh, the creative process... I have awakened the muse....

The talented Mr Skiffington

2008-10-06T21:44:00.000+01:00

I feel bad. I should have blogged about this long before now. But you know how it is; so much to blog about, so little time.

Anyway, my brother is an artist. A painter.

And he currently has an exhibtition running in Oxford at the North Wall Arts Centre.

Here's the link to the website:
http://www.thenorthwall.com/moreinfo.php?ref=55&type=x&start=

And he's just had a really good review in the Oxford Times. Here's the link to the review:
http://www.oxfordtimes.co.uk/leisure/arts/3719986.Luke_Skiffington__North_Wall/

He's great, and the work is great - honest, authentic and technically accomplished.

And very reasonably priced....

So if you're anywhere near Oxford, go take a look this week. Or take a look at his website www.skiffington.co.uk

And more Warwick Words.... Jo Shapcott

2008-10-06T10:17:00.000+01:00

On Friday I went to a Jo Shapcott workshop. For more about Jo, see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jo_Shapcott

Again, she is a most generous and clever teacher, a quality which has pervaded the writers and poets I encountered at Warwick Words. This is how the session was described:

Angela Carter wrote: 'There’s a materiality to imaginative life and imaginative experience which should be taken quite seriously.'

Join acclaimed poet, Jo Shapcott, at this workshop which will take as its subject the imagined world and give participants the chance to dip a toe into its materiality.

Well, I couldn't pass that up, could I?! We worked extremely hard over the three hour session, and each produced three poems. The first poem came from a freewrite that we all did when we first arrived. I think I'll put the poems on here, just so you can see what I achieved in three hours. Now please bear in mind that these are rough drafts, not even first drafts, and I have reproduced them here exactly as I scribbled them. No revisions! But they are interesting as you can see perhaps the seed of a poem in them.. So, this is the first poem I wrote:-

A tiny dead bird almost under my foot
Head curled down onto breast, skin flecked with feathers
I look again and it is two spiky seed-heads clinging together.
Then I see a dead cat in the gutter
Fur matted and legs splayed
I look again and it is an old scarf tangled with some twigs.
I sense foreboding everywhere these days
In counting magpies and stormy skies.
Shadowy figures lurch out of the dark
I swerve the car to avoid nothing.
A barn owl swoops across the road
A real white ghost to properly frighten
But I am calm.
I am only afraid of the thing I cannot name
That I see from the corner of my eye
That moves closer in from the edges of my world
To threaten me.

Strangely, (or perhaps not with the current climate) a few other people, including Jo, had also picked up on this dark mood, this general malaise, and so the second poem she set us to write was a hommage to a poem by Neil Rollinson called 'A List of Requirements for the End of the World' http://www.neilrollinson.com/index.htm

Because I'd been so depressive in the last poem, I didn't want everyone at the workshop to think I was some kind of suicide risk, so I tried to make this next one a bit funny...

So, here is my poem entitled, 'A List of Requirements for the End of the World' (apologies to Neil Rollinson)

These are my demands...
For this to happen when I am very, very old.
To have reached spiritual enlightenment, any religion will do.
To be crying with laughter listening to Billy Connelly telling me a really funny story.
To not to have to think, 'I wish I'd had more sex', in my dying seconds.
To be really glad I took out the 'Buy Now, Pay Later' deal on that sofa,
And overspent on fripperies on my credit card.
To ensure I don't enter some kind of collective unconscious with George Bush and
Anne Widdecome.

To be eating a full Christmas dinner, rest of Christmas not necessary.

And drinking as much good wine as I can take.

To not know, or have any inkling, that this is going to happen.

If I'm going, everyone else is too.

For it to be quick, like someone turning the light out.

And to find out that we really are made of stardust.

The last exercise was interesting. We each selected an image at random, and had to firstly write a set of 'rules' - social or physical, for the world that the image depicted. I picked out a Pieter Breugel painting of The Tower of Babel. Then we had to write a poem incorporating those rules. Mine was written from the POV of a stonemason working on the tower.

I carve the arches from the blocks of stone
Curve the rounded edge to each square piece
Chip, chip, chip, gentle cut and smooth
Careful under a loaded sky.
You ask how many I have made
And how many left to birth?
I cannot answer your question.
All I know is the stone and the chisel.
Place the keystone in the centre
And then move on to the next arch.
Sometimes I wonder how high we have to build
Already clouds lace the upper walkways
And it seems the stones are smaller these days
And veined with faults and cracks.
But we kneel before our king in fear
And chip, chip. chip, gentle cut and smooth
Careful under a loaded sky.
We work until we are told to stop
Or fall upon our stone and die.

Make of all that what you will.....!!

Thanks, Jo, and all the other participants, for a great workshop.

More Warwick Words...Joolz Denby

2008-10-06T10:02:00.000+01:00

There's more to say about the other workshops I went to over the festival.

On Thursday, I went to a Masterclass with Joolz Denby. For more about her see http://www.joolz-denby.co.uk/. She is a really fascinating person. When I first saw her, I was a bit scared actually! She's tall and strong-looking, and she is covered in tattoos and piercings. She looks fierce. But she was the kindest, funniest and down-to-earth person. We did a great workshop. Joolz brought with her a bag of perfume samples from Harvey Nichols. We each had to pick one at random and then create a character who would wear that perfume. It was so interesting, as certain themes about identity, sexuality and aspiration emerged in nearly all the work produced. It was a strong reminder about the place that the sense of smell holds in our culture, and in writing. Joolz was very knowledgable about perfume and how it is constructed from a top note, middle note and base note, and she compared the structure of perfume to the structure of writing a novel. We packed a lot into the three hours, and I felt a real sense of achievement at the end. So thanks, Joolz!

Warwick Words...

2008-10-05T19:33:00.000+01:00

Over the last few days, the Warwick Festival of Literature and Spoken Word has been running. This has been a fantastic event, with some wonderful writers and speakers giving their time. I have attended three writing workshops over the week, all of which have been fantastic. I have met some great writers and hopefully made some new friends. But I just wanted to talk about today's workshop in a little more detail, as this blog comes into it!

The workshop was called Writing For Children & Teenagers and was presented by the children's writer Celia Rees. (http://www.celiarees.com/) It was a great workshop, full of talk and practical advice about writing in general, writing for children specifically and how to get published. We also did some workshop exercises, writing in the first and third person, which were insightful. Celia was encouraging and very generous, and I think everyone who attended enjoyed the session. ('Hello!' to anyone reading this who was there this morning! )I thought it was a very diverse and interesting group of people, all at different stages in their writing.

We talked about a few resources. I mentioned the Open University (http://www.open.ac.uk/) and also the OU coursebook which is entitled,
Creative Writing, A Workbook with Readings, by Linda Anderson (ed), published by Routledge (2005)

Also I mentioned blogs which are of interest to writers. There really are loads, and I'm only just getting to grips with all this myself. There are some blogs listed on my page, and the other one I mentioned was Nathan Bransford's blog. He's the American literary agent. That's at www.nathanbransford.blogspot.com.
There are so many others, so if you find anything interesting about writing let me know!

Weddings!

2008-10-05T19:06:00.001+01:00

I have had such a great few days!

On Thursday, Friday and today (Sunday) I attended some writing workshops organised for the Warwick Words Festival of Literature and Spoken Word which has run from 2 - 5 October. More of which later...

Yesterday, I went to the wedding of some friends from university. Dear husband and I were in our usual role of official photographers. (just another interest I have - seeing as I have all this spare time ;-)) It was a great day, one of those occasions where you have a real sense of a family's genuine love, affection and respect for each other. My friend's father made a wonderfully understated speech, but his obvious pride in his daughter and her achievements shone through powerfully. There was live music and the beer and whisky flowed....What more could you want?

I wore a new outfit, and I love it, but what I love more is peoples' reaction to it. It's usually something like,
'Wow. (Pause) I like your clothes. They're really (Pause) unusal.' Ha!

My brother was a little more forthright on his first glimpse of me wearing it:
'What are you wearing? You look like someone out of Lord of the Rings.'

Yeah thanks. Not an ork, I hope.

Anyway, maybe I shall try to battle the forces of technology that usually defeat me, and post a picture of myself in said outfit. I'm sure you could all do with a laugh....

The other thing that made me giggle at the wedding was a drunken conversation with the groom's father. In the bride's speech (she's a lawyer, so what can you expect?) she mentioned that her now husband used to send flirtatious messages to me on the class register at law school. I had no recollection of this, but cannot doubt her veracity, as flirtation is certainly a sport I once excelled in... The groom's father came up to me,
Him, putting an arm around me: 'So what's all this about my son sending you flirtatious messages?'
Me, squirming: 'Oh well, it was all in good fun, I can't really remember to be honest.'
Him: 'So did it come to anything then, between you two?'
Me, very firmly: 'No, not at all, absolutely not!'
Him: 'Oh that's a shame!'

I literally RAN from the room!!

Trinny and Suzannah on CBeebies...

2008-10-02T21:03:00.000+01:00

Its already started. My daughter criticising what I'm wearing. She's four.

I'm in the shops and its all autumnal and chilly and I see a hat which I think is very chic, and will go nicely with my new red winter coat. So I buy the hat.

I go home and wander into said daughter's bedroom wearing the hat.
'Do you like Mummy's hat?' I ask.
Daughter looks up from building complicated Lego swimming pool, complete with steps and slides.
'That's not a hat, it's a bowl'.

Thanks.

Framilies

2008-10-01T14:34:00.000+01:00

Have you heard this word? 'Framilies'. The social networks that people set up with friends to replace the traditional family network, lost when people move away from their home towns. I think it is certainly true that a lot of people these days are closer to their friends than their families. Not so much me, as my family are close by, if completlely crazy... But I do have a 'framily' too, and I'm losing one of them to a new job in a northern town. :-( We were at school together, and I shall miss him. But as he points out, it's not exactly the other side of the world, only an hour or so up the M1.

I suppose you just have to let them spread their wings and fly the nest. It will be good practice for when the kids leave home...

Human nature, good and bad...

2008-09-30T16:52:00.000+01:00

It has been such a wierd time recently. It all started with the dog saga last week.

I was starting to lose hope of finding Oscar and feeling awful. I spent last Wednesday making 'Have you seen this Dog?' posters. On Thursday morning I went into our local Chemist and had a chat with the lady who works in there. She took one of my posters and said she would show it to everyone who came in. She was so kind and sympathetic. I then went along the road and put up a poster outside the Tennis Club. A posh woman came up and asked what I was doing. This is how the conversation went:
(Me)'We've lost our dog and I'm just putting up some posters to try to find him.'
(Her) 'What sort of dog is it?'
(Me) 'He's a labrador cross. I'm hoping someone will recognise him.'
(Her, glancing at the poster, and then walking off) 'Oh I shouldn't think so. They're ten a penny, dogs like that.'

Bitch.

Anyway, that needless exchange upset me for the rest of the day. UNTIL. The lady from the Chemist rang me to say she had found my dog!!!! Someone had been in and she had shown them the poster and they had found my dog and had been looking after him!

So I contacted the lady who had taken Oscar in and went round to get him. He was at a house only a few streets away. I tell you, he was FAT! He's the only dog I know who can go missing for 5 days and come back looking better than when he left! This kind lady had done nothing but feed him, I think. She had bought him a new collar and lead and had become quite attached to him. I think she was secretly hoping he was a stray and she could keep him. I felt quite guilty taking him home!

So then I was all drunk on the milk of human kindness. Until Friday.
I was walking home from taking dear daughter to school and coming towards me in the road by my house there were 3 lads from the local school playing kick-about with a tin can. Nothing wrong with that. Then one of them picks up the can and chucks it over the hedge into one of my neighbour's garden.
Well I wasn't having that, so I challenged him and told him to pick it up and put it in a bin. There was a bit of argument and then he went and picked it up. I walked on and then I heard this clank as they chucked the can into the road. Well, at this point I completely lost my temper! I ran back down the road and shouted at these kids to pick it up and put it in a bin. They were swearing and abusive but one of them finally went back and got the can and kicked it along the road saying he was going to find a bin. I was so angry I was shaking. And I had my 2yr old son with me. I went home, had a cup of tea and called the school.

I demanded to speak to the Head, and because he was out of school that day, I was put through to the Deputy Head. Poor bloke, I absolutely blasted him, complaining about this incident and the general behaviour of some of the kids at the school; the litter and the swearing and the bad manners and lack of courtesy and respect for anyone. I expected him to say, yes thanks and goodbye. But he didn't.

He invited me into the school where I identified the can-throwing culprit who was then made to apologise to me! I gave the kid a bit of a lecture, which my dear son punctuated with 'Mummy, I need a wee', so completely ruining my oratory....

Anyway it kind of ended well. I'm just expecting my tyres to be slashed now, or graffitti daubed on my house...

But I do really believe it is important for members of the public to get involved in trying to stop incidents of bad behaviour like this. I just feel that if more adults faced up to kids who were being 'naughty', then their behaviour would be nipped in the bud and would not escalate into much more serious anti-social disorder. I heard on the news today that a man has been murdered in Norwich, trying to break up a fight in a taxi rank. This is so sad, but it must not stop people intervening. If we allow ourselves to be afraid, then the yobs and the criminals have won, and the lunatics really will be running the asylum.

The wanderer returns...!!

2008-09-25T18:47:00.000+01:00

We have found Oscar this afternoon! Someone had been keeping him and finally called the Dog Warden when they saw one of my posters...! He has been very well looked after and I am so grateful to the lady who took him in. Apparently the person who found the dog left their name and number with the police at the weekend, but when the Dog Warden called the police on Monday, those details weren't passed on...Typical really, I suppose! There is a real problem with this gap in provision for lost/stray dogs, and the police really aren't helping. Members of the public are still not aware that the police don't deal with dogs, and so their first port of call naturally is the police. There ought to be at the very least some more co-ordinated effort to pass on information received from the public to the Dog Warden.
Our other dog was overjoyed to see his friend - so much so that he had to be put out in the garden to calm down a bit!

Still missing Oscar...

2008-09-24T13:20:00.000+01:00

Well it's now Wednesday and Oscar has been missing nearly four days. I think I have done pretty much everything I can, short of scouring the land for him in person. It's really strange - he just seems to have vanished. No-one has seen him so far. I'm having a letter and photo (the dog, not me) published in the Leamington Courier on Friday, and hopefully that will turn something up. A few people have suggested someone may have taken him in, which is what I am hoping really. I called Railtrack today too, just to check no dogs have been killed on the line near where we live. No news is good news from them....

It's just such a shame as he is such a lovely dog - so placid and gentle, especially with the kids. And I feel so guilty, because ultimately, it's my fault he is lost as I let him slip out.

An anonymous woman called both Petsearch and the Dog Warden and left messages over the weekend saying she had found a dog. But she didn't leave a name or number and hasn't called since. It is driving me crazy. I don't even know if if was Oscar that she found, but the timings fit. I can't help feeling that if there had been an out of hours service, I might have my dog back...

This is not a good week.

Missing Oscar...

2008-09-23T12:17:00.000+01:00

One of our dogs has gone missing. He was lost on Saturday 20th September from our house in Leamington Spa.

His name is Oscar and he is about 8 years old.

Please keep your eyes peeled if you live anywhere near us...

Thanks.

He is a much loved and missed family dog so we're all really sad at the moment....

Week 1 down, 15 weeks till Christmas...

2008-09-12T13:42:00.001+01:00

Well we have managed to get through Week 1 of school. I felt like it was my first day, let alone my daughter's, what with all the stuff I had to remember.

I did ok, and managed to get firstborn daughter there on time, wearing the right clothes. Fridays are tricky - she has to wear her PE kit and take her uniform to school in the kit bag. And we have to remember a fruit snack to share. I got the PE kit right, but the fruit snack went by the wayside. Who says women can multi-task?

So no gold star for me, but we're geting there. She seems to be settling in very well, and we haven't had any 'child as leg-iron' moments. The other mums seem pleasant, although I did get what felt a bit like the third degree yesterday from someone in the playground. Her questions could have all been summed up into one, really - 'How rich are you?' In a way it would have been quite refreshing to just cut to the chase, instead of all this nice doci-doeing around the issue.

Anyway, it's nearly Friday pick-up time and we've survived it intact. Hey, we're all exhausted, but that seems like a minor detail....

The days just keep coming....

2008-09-08T11:11:00.000+01:00

I feel bereft today.

My little girl is no longer a little girl. She has started school. And my baby boy is no longer a baby. He has started pre-school. Both on the same day. And my dear husband has gone to Holland for the week. So I'm sitting here in a silent house wondering what to do with myself until pick-up time.

It's very strange. When you are in the throes of life with babies, the focus of your world narrows on them and you feel as though the time is going to last forever. (Probably because you are awake for most of it.) And you wish and wish for some time to yourself to indulge in something just for you.

And then suddenly the time is gone. All those craft projects, trips out and activities that you didn't do and saved for another day; well, there won't be another day. Until the school holidays that is. And all those indulgent things that you wished you had time for suddenly don't seem so attractive any more.

And you find youself wanting more than anything in the world to be able to stop time, and cuddle up with your babies on the sofa. But those days just keep coming.....

You just watch, tomorrow I'll be blogging on here about them going off to university.

Market Day

2008-08-11T20:00:00.000+01:00

Today was the highlight of the week here in the Gers - a trip to the market at Samatan, world famous for its foie gras. Every week we pledge to get up early and go the the market while there is still a baguette and a lettuce to be had. But every week, it's the same old story - we roll out of bed late and make it to Samatan in time to watch the stall holoders dismantling their stalls, have a coffee and then come home. Oh well.
Actually, today wasn't so bad. We arrived in time to see the livestock market going on in one of the big halls. This is the market for ducks, chickens, geese, rabbits, and pets. All the live kind, rather than the dead ones in the next hall. We thought the 4 year old and the 2 year old might prefer that... (and the 34 year old come to think of it)
It is quite fascinating to watch the French at these events.They are so obviously in their element; chatting and smoking with a couple of chickens dangling from a bit of string or a rabbit tucked under their arm. There was a woman with a goose in a paper sack with just its head and neck sticking out. She had it under her arm and everyone was stroking it like a dog.
I'm still not sure whether these animals are for breeding, or eggs in the case of the birds, or whether they eat them. The French seem so affectionate towards them, I'd hate to think that they just went in the pot when they got home...
But then they have a very healthy attitude towards meat and where it comes from. We are in the heart of the French countryside here, and people keep, kill and eat their own meat. It seems cruel and I'm squeamish about it all, and could no more kill a rabbit than fly to the moon, but I eat meat. So who's the hypocrite..?

En vacances!

2008-08-10T11:43:00.001+01:00

Bonjour from the Gers! Here we are in South West France at our usual retreat. Summer for swimming and sun and long lazy lunches (and breakfasts and dinners) and winter for skiing and nights playing sevens in front of the wood burning stove. Bliss.

It takes a while to get into the groove here. Of doing nothing. The biggest exertion is going to the local market and the boulangerie, but other than that it's just sitting and reading and writing and having a little swim and a little aperetif and a lovely dinner and then a sleep... The kids are loving it too - and when they're happy, I'm happy.

Having said all that,I have actually been quite productive since our arrival. Given the time to sit and muse, I have scribbled in my notebook a lot, and drafted out a short story to be worked on further on our return home. I have also managed to do some reading. I mean some proper reading for hours at a time-not ten minutes exhausted effort before falling asleep, which is what I normally achieve. I've just finished Wilkie Collins, 'The Moonstone', and am now reading AL Kennedy's novel 'Day'.

And I realised I haven't blogged for ages. Not sure why; a lot on as usual, but that's not the reason. It just kind of dropped off my radar for a few weeks. But having the space to think about stuff brought it back up to consciousness again. So here we are in France for the next few weeks. What luxury it is to have TIME!