Rosalind Adam is writing in the rain

Turn it off!

2012-01-27T10:43:00.000Z

They're talking about the beginning of the Universe!

Our galaxy in the vast Universe

Every morning we listen to BBC Radio 4’s Today programme. This morning I heard them mention the Hadron Collider andsuddenly realised that they were talking about the beginning of the Universe. Iran and turned off the radio. This is one issue that I just can’t get my head round. But it was too late because now I’m revisitingquestions that are always lurking in that dark part of my mind:

If there was a beginning of the Universe then what was herebefore?
If we could travel and travel then would we reach the edgeof the Universe?
If there’s an edge to the Universe then what’s outside it?
If the Universe was to be destroyed then what would take itsplace and how could there ever be nothing?

I do have faith in the beliefs of my religion but I stillcan’t work out all this Universe business. Is it any wonder that I throw myselfinto my writing? It stops me from thinking about these brain-explodingissues.

Is it just me or do other people have trouble thinking about thissort of thing?

Soduko, Bridge and More Small Stones

2012-01-22T14:40:00.000Z

Collecting small stones is all about looking carefully at onething each day for the whole of January and writing down what I see. It’s afascinating activity. I’ve never done it before and I didn’t expect to get thisfar. I’m well over half way and think that I might just make it to the end ofthe month.

I’ve chosen two number-related stones to talk about and listed out my othersat the bottom of this post. [I posted about my firstnine small stones here.]

Wednesday 18th January: 1 to 9, 1 to 9, 1 to 9. Looking for patterns. Alwaysdifferent. My evening Soduko never fails to fascinate.

Thursday 19th January: Shuffle and deal. Sort the cards. *sigh* No bid… again!#Bridge

Why does Soduko fascinate me so much? In theory it’scompletely pointless. It makes no difference if I fill it in correctly or not,but in practise I’m quite passionate about it, almost as passionate as I amabout Bridge.

Bridge also relies on working out numbers, counting the highcard values in your hand, making a calculated estimate of how many points yourpartner has according to the bids of your opponent. I’m not sure if I do it tokeep my brain active, or to keep me from thinking about life’s worries. Probablyboth if I’m honest.

Do you have a hobby that you’re passionate about?

My small stones from 10^th to 21^stJanuary:
10^th It hasa rich red base with black lines forming diamonds, circles, elaborate shapes,each one filled with blue, beige and red. This is the Turkish rug that I neversee beneath my feet.
11^th Arotund pigeon approaches our tree, thrusts legs forward, leans back on an aircurrent, flaps wings wildly… and he’s landed.
12^th Islice the cucumber so thinly the light shines through. My knife slips. I shouldhide the half slices but where? In my mouth!
13^th Thecar wash guys have raw red hands and yet they chat and laugh as they wring outleathers, spray on soap, hose down suds.
14^th A thousand tiny fireflies have been skating all night on ourfrosted car roof to the tune of The Bolero. I know because I can see the lines theirskates have left behind.
15^th A lineof steam escapes from beneath the saucepan lid and gathers like dewdrops on thecold kitchen window.
16^th Yellowtulips dip over the rim of my vase like ballerinas bowing for applause.
17^th Pastabows, soft and shiny, covered with sizzling cheese and spinach for Popeye-stylestrength. Supper for one. My choice.
18^th 1 to9, 1 to 9, 1 to 9. Looking for patterns. Always different. My evening Sodukonever fails to fascinate.
19^th Shuffleand deal. Sort the cards. *sigh* No bid… again! #Bridge
20^th Twospikey-haired cats miaow at me as if I can stop the rain. Sorry girls.
21^stChocolate ice cream with realchocolate chunks, smooth and crunchy, cold and creamy. The taste lingers :-)

Computers? They're easy once you know how.

2012-01-17T17:40:00.000Z

Why is it that the computer has a way of making itselfappear incredibly difficult until you know how? I’ve had friends who, not solong ago, were bewildered about how to use an email account but now they’reemailing as if it’s the easiest thing in the world, which of course it is… whenyou know how. Some of my friends are now wary of launching themselves into theblogging world because they’re not sure they know how. One of those friends hassuccessfully dived in and you can find her at Thinking of the Days talkingabout everything from music to her allotment, cooking, family, life, the lot.Hopefully the others won’t be far behind because it really is easy once youknow how.

Some time ago I set up a website because I wanted to connectwith other writers but yet again it’s all about what you know and I now knowthat blogging and tweeting are the best ways to network, raise your profile asa writer and make lovely friends while you’re at it. So when the bill for nextyear’s website hosting arrived in my inbox I decided it was time for arestructure. Within the month my website will cease to exist. I’m transferringsome of the content onto this blog. You’ve probably noticed that tabs haveappeared above the title of this post. Of course, you won’t have noticed howmany hours it took me to work out how to set up those tabs and additional blogpages and yet it’s simple now I know how.

Talking of lovely blogging friends, I’ve received someawards. Annalisa Crawford from Wake up, eat, write, sleep gave me the One LovelyBlog Award over a month ago. Apologies for the delay, Annalisa, but life’s beena bit hectic here.

Annalisa is a writer and fitness instructor and a lovelychatty blogger so please go and visit her blog. I promise you won’t bedisappointed.

I’m passing this award to my friend Bridget at Thinking of the Days for being brave enough to dive in.

My other award is from Ruth who blogs at Out on a Limb. Imet Ruth through Rachel’s Platform Building Campaign. She writes YA and she’s achocolate lover, a blogger after my own heart, so all you YA writing, chocolateloving bloggers please go and visit her blog. It’s a must read.

Ruth has givenme the Versatile Blogger Award and said that the rules insist I tell you seventhings about me that you didn’t already know. Gosh! I doubt that there areseven things you don’t know about me so, as usual, I’m going to bend the rulesand tell you about five firsts.

My first LP record was by Dionne Warwick
My first car was a turquoise Austin A40 Farina
My first holiday abroad was in Benidorm in the days beforeit was a TV series.
My first teaching post was as a History Teacher inLoughborough
My first published piece of writing was a short story calledWaiting to be Rescued published in Best Women’s Magazine and if you’d like toclick on the above tab marked short story you can read it.

I’m passing this award to my friend Maria at First Draft Caféwho, as @MariaAsmith, has done so much work to set up the #UKwriters group onTwitter.

What if you couldn't read?

2012-01-13T14:01:00.000Z

For several years I taught adult literacy and yet I still can’ttruly imagine what it would be like to not be able to understand the writtenword. The nearest I’ve come to experiencing it is when I’m in a foreign countryand even then I can have a go at deciphering words, especially if they use thesame alphabet as us, because I have the decoding skills.

But without those decoding skills I’d be lost... literallywhen it comes to travelling. Which is the correct bus stop? Which undergroundtrain do I want? What street am I walking down? Where is the nearest publictoilet? How can I order food in a cafe or restaurant? The list of obstacles isendless.

We were once in France and went into a Moule Restaurant. Inow know what Moule means and I’ve also learnt to say “Mon mari est mal avecdes moules.” He’s allergic to muscles so I hope that translated correctly. Theyseemed to understand because they showed us the door.

Which brings me to the kitchen. What’s in that packet? Does it contain wheat? Is it still in date? Are the little pictures clear enough to show me how to cook it? And how would I remember what I need to buyfrom the shops? I could dictate a shopping list onto my mobile but how do I do that? It’s hard enough to work out how to use all those obscurefacilities on mobile phones even with the ability to read the screen! And listeningto a shopping list is really not the same as scanning my eyes across a piece ofpaper.

I could go on but I think you’re getting the gist by now, soI’d like to say a big thank you to my teachers for teaching me to read and tomy Mum for instilling in me a love of reading. Books meant everything to Mum, especially asshe got older. They helped her to escape from a world of illness and immobility. Once she entered the pages of a book she could be anyone and go anywhere. Everyone reading this now can do that too.Aren’t we lucky!

Me, David Hockney and Small Stones

2012-01-09T13:45:00.002Z

I had an amusing realisation last night as I watched CountryFile on the TV. Me and David Hockney have something in common. Hockney spokeabout the way that people don’t really look at things. As an artist he takes in every fine detail of the world around him and transfers it onto canvas. I'm trying to look at the world around me for the January smallstones project and I'm transferring it to the computer screen, which brings me to another similarity. Hockney is into modern technology too. He uses an iPad which he says does the job far better thanthe old fashioned sketch pad and pencil.

But now we come to the differences. Apart from the obvious fact that he's amazingly talented and world famous, he sees colour where I seeblack. He sees fine blades of grass where I see a patch of green. I’ve a way togo before I’ve grasped this small stones activity but I’ve stuck withit. I’ve been tweeting them out each day this month and one or two have even beenretweeted by kind followers J

Thanks to Fiona and Kaspa for running this project at Writing our Way Home. I’ve listed out below my first 9 of 31 stones [it's only for the month of January] and I’ve chosentwo of my favourites to talk about.

Wavingarms together, clapping hands, hiding under the table and… boo! The joys ofskyping with my 21 month old grandson.

I'm not sure if this is, strictly speaking, a small stone but it was such a preciousmoment that it had to be included. My little grandson has been seriously ill.In December he was rushed into hospital and spent five days in the HighDependency Unit, what we used to call Intensive Care. The doctors diagnosed Type 1 Diabetes. He now hasto have four injections a day. For a start it was traumatic for him, and for his Mum, Dad and sister, butthe jabs are now called ‘tickles’ and he’s accepting them as part of his life. He’sgrinning and playing and running around again and, with much thanks to theDoctors, we have our lively little grandson back... but sometimes life seems sounfair.

A furry grey paw, chenille-soft,stretches across my lap. I stroke it. Mabel purrs and, if I could, I would purrtoo.

When Mabel arrived from the cat rescuecentre last March she was traumatised and spent all her time hiding under the table.Her sister, Charlie, was traumatised too but she's more trusting. She’ll sit onanyone’s lap and insists on being stroked the whole time [like now while I'm trying to type this!] Mabel is moresuspicious. She has not yet sat on a lap but she’s gradually moving closer.She now sits either next to me on the settee or on the back of the settee by myhead and every now and again a cart-horse sized paw [she’s a big girl!] reachesout and she lets me hold it and stroke it while she purrs contentedly.

My First Nine Small Stones

1^st Jan Bamboo canes,sturdy and black against delicate lime leaves, move to the rhythm of the windlike arms at a rock concert.

2^nd Jan The smear acrossthe microwave door, a rainbow drained of colour.

3^rd Jan A hazy potato printagainst a marine blue sky. The moon has insomnia again.

4^th Jan With eyes closedthe wind in the trees becomes waves on a shingle beach.

5^th Jan A sparrow wipes hisbeak on the branch once, twice, fluffs out his sodden wings, nibbles a featherand he's away

6^thJan Metal wings slash white lines across a blue sky, tally marks to record yetmore pollution.

7^th Jan A furry grey paw,chenille-soft, stretches across my lap. I stroke it. Mabel purrs and, if Icould, I would purr too.

8^th Jan Waving arms together,clapping hands, hiding under the table and… boo! The joys of skyping with my 21month old grandson.

9^th Jan With Hockney's words in my head I looked at small stones. They are grey, white, yellow, blue, black, orange and green. They are shiny, rough, flat, oval and round and everything in-between.

A small postscript for those who are interested: JOur local newspaper, The Leicester Mercury, rang me up lastFriday and interviewed me about my opinion of David Cameron’s statement regarding hisintentions to see improvements in hospital care. This is the resulting article here: Plans to improve nursing

A Woolly Yarn

2012-01-06T15:52:00.000Z

I often go on nostalgia trips in these posts, rememberingthe ‘good old days’, but this one’s different. I was out with a knitting-lovingfriend and we popped into the wool shop. I prepared to glaze over but...

Wool has been born again. There were balls containingsequins, balls made of ‘rag rug’ pieces, balls of thick flat yarn that fannedout to create lace scallops. Using needles that resemble frankfurter sausages, ascarf can appear in a single evening. How different from Mum’s fine needles andeven finer wool, click clack click clack. Every few months a garment wouldemerge and next day there’d be different coloured wool and, click clack clickclack, she’d be off again.

Life today is all about quick and easy, like the microwave.You can make a delicious steamed pudding in three minutes, no splutteringsaucepan with string and cloth covered basin rattling around for hours. Grandmawould never have believed it.

And then there’s the computer. Can you remember when you hadto type out a manuscript or document with carbon paper for your copy? If youmade a mistake near the end of the page you had to type it all over again and it’snot that long ago!

Those who know me well will be amused to hear that I was seducedby that wool shop. I’m knitting a chenille scarf, one of those ‘knit up in anevening’ ones. I’ve been on it for three days now. I’ll let you know if it’sever completed!

For those who would like to buy some of this amazing wool, the shop is called Craft Corner Knits. It's at Thoresby Courtyard. Here is the link to their Facebook Page. and this is the link to Thorseby Courtyard.

An Alcoholic Admission

2012-01-01T19:12:00.001Z

When I was in my twenties I tried very hard to drink winebut it always made me sick which was a shame because it’s such a sociable thingto do. When I met Mr A he declared that it was because I’d only ever triedcheap plonk. Being a bit of a wine connoisseur (a posh way of saying he liked anoccasional glass) he lavished upon me the most expensive of wines. Still I wassick. So I’m making an admission to you all now. I’m standing up as I type thisand I’m saying loudly and seriously,

“My name is Rosalind Adam and I am ateetotaler.”

There I’ve said it. I can hear you all gasping and yes it doesmean that:

I’m always the designated driver home.
I never ‘get’ the jokes that are bandied about in the latterpart of a sociable evening.
And there are only so many glasses of juice that any one person can drink in an evening.

But:

I never get a thick head the morning after.
And Mr A hardly drinks at all now which is just as well inview of his kidney problems following his stem cell transplant. Had I been fondof a glass or two we could well be downing a bottle a night by now.

Last night, surrounded by my friends, I toasted the New Yearwith a glass of lemonade while they sipped at Champagne. We had a lovelyevening and I drove home afterwards. Today I shared a delicious lunch withfriends and washed it down with their infamous and highly non-alcoholic ‘redjuice’. We had a lovely day and I drove home afterwards.

I don’t need alcohol to have a good time and I’m now raisinga cup of tea in a toast to the New Year. May the rest of it be every bit asgood as the first 24 hours have been.

Cheers!!!

UK Writers and Small Stones

2011-12-28T13:55:00.001Z

I don’t do resolutions. They’re like rules. They’re madeto be broken, but this year I do want to get some of my longer manuscripts completedand out there. I’m always telling other people that their work will never getpublished if it's sitting in a pending file, so I suppose I really shouldlisten to myself. This means that I’ll be doing a fair bit of editing over thenext few months and, as editing can be tedious, I’ve planned two Twitter distractions:

#UKwriters

@mariaAsmith and myself, @RosalindAdam, thought it wouldbe useful for UK writers to have a tag so we can link up with each other toshare news on Twitter. The news can be writing opportunities, competitions,conferences, in fact anything that's relevant to UK writers.

If you'reinterested then please tweet ‘I'min #UKwriters’ to@mariaAsmith and she'll include your twitter name on her UKwriters twitterlist. If you're already on the list and want to follow more UK writers go to Maria Smith UK writers list where you can check it out. Do please use the #UKwriters tag whenever you tweet writingadvice etc. Who knows, we might even get it trending.

#smallstones

I’m having another try at taking part in the River ofStones project. It’srun by Fiona and Kaspa and this is how they explain what you have to do:

"You'll create a 'small stone' every day when you payproper attention to something (a cloudy sky, or your cat leaping lightly acrossthe lawn) and then write it down as accurately as you can.

Writing smallstones will help you to engage with the world around you - to enjoy every sipof your black coffee, to savour the scent of lemon wafting around your kitchen,to appreciate the grungy sliminess of your compost pile."

You can find out more on their website at Writing our Way Home. I triedto take part in last July’s project but life overtook me. Hopefully, if I cankeep ‘on task’, I’ll be tweeting a ‘small stone’daily throughout January using the tag #smallstones. I’ll post upthe best at the end of the month.

What are your plans for January?

Festival of Lights

2011-12-21T14:41:00.000Z

Today is the first day of Chanukah, the Jewish Festival ofLights. In the UK it also happens to be the shortest day of the year... so it’sa time when we all need light in our lives in more ways than one.

Chanukah lasts for eight days. We have special candlestickscalled Menorahs or Chanukiahs. When I was in Jerusalem in October I boughtmyself this lovely new Chanukiah. [Did I mention that we went to Jerusalem?! I did! Whoops, I do keep repeating myself!]

The photo doesn't really do it justice. It's soooo pretty.

The middle branch is the lighter candle, called the shamash, which is used tolight the other candles. Each night an extra candle is lit until on the eighth night there are nine candles burning. It’s a really fun time for the children who lookforward to a small gift as each candle is lit.

Chanukah commemorates a miracle, a historical event that tookplace over 2,300 years ago. The Jewish temple in Jerusalem had been ransacked. WhenJudah and the Maccabees reclaimed the temple they found that all the oil hadbeen contaminated except for one small jug which held enough for a single day. There’salways a light burning in a Jewish place of worship and so the oil lamp wasfilled and lit. Then a miracle happened as the tiny amount of oil stayed litnot for one day but for eight days, enough time for fresh oil to be prepared.

But when we light the Chanukah candles today we also celebratethe power of light. If our house is in darkness we stumble and fall over eachother. The same can be said of the world. If we light a candle to light theworld...

if we ALL light a candle to light the world,

then there’ll be no moredarkness, no one will stumble, none of us need fall. Maybe one day.

Here’s a fun message from a cartoon character called RabbiInfinity that shows us how light is more powerful than dark. It's called A Little Light.

Whatever festival you’re celebrating, or about to celebrate, mayit be a happy, healthy and peaceful time for everyone.

So Many Skills

2011-12-16T14:23:00.000Z

If I was to ask you to write down all your skills you’d runout of paper for sure. We’ve all acquired so many skills in life that we takemost of them for granted. I’ve had two email chats this week that have made methink about my skills. The first was about writing poetry. Sue from PoetrySpace Competition asked if I could write a post for her blog about my approachto poetry writing.

“Yes, no problem,” I said and I picked up my pen but I couldn’tfind the words to describe it. Of course, I managed to find some words in theend. I rarely am completely lost for words. [“That’s true!” says Mr A as he walks past mydesk.] The resulting article is here. I’d love to know if you approach yourpoetry-writing in the same way.

The second chat was with Sarah from Empty White Pages. I’d commentedon her blog that a song she’d featured in last week’s post has satisfying guitarchord changes. Sarah was surprised.

“You play guitar?” she said. “I never knew.”

“I’ll blog about it,” I said and we both agreed that it’sfascinating to find out about other things that bloggers can do so…

I learnt to play the classical guitar as a child and movedon to acoustic in my teens. I dabbled with the harmonica and for a short timewas an oboist in the school orchestra. I rarely play the guitar these days. Myonce hardened finger ends have gone all soft and soppy and it hurts too much. Iprefer to sit at the piano where I can just about plonk out a tune. Oh yes, andI also have a bodhran drum, a leaving gift from one of my teaching jobs, butdrumming is a skill that I’ve never quite mastered, although I can make the mostthunderous racket with it… especially when I’m stressed!

What skills have you got hiding under your bushel?

If we cared

2011-12-11T10:34:00.001Z

I’ve had a go at one of Jenny Matlock’s weekend challenges. I can't get Blogger to put a link on her badge but please visit her blog. There’s always something there to makeyou smile. This week her challenge is to post up a piece of writing in anystyle as long as it’s less than 100 words and includes the phrase:

It doesn’t have to be that way

‘Excellent!’ I thought when I read her prompt. ‘I now havean excuse for one of my regular moans.’ So here goes:

Why is it nation fighting nation,
Always man versus man,
Another journalist’s sensation
As the bad news hits the fan?

We say we care about each other
But that clearly isn’t true.
What with brother killing brother
I’m afraid for me and you.

If we cared we’d not permit
All of that murderous display.
It’s our world we’re messing up. It
Doesn’t have to be that way.

What does your computer screen wallpaper say about you?

2011-12-07T13:51:00.001Z

Some people don’t bother to upload personalised wallpaper[background] for their computer. They’re content to make do with the Windows defaultone. My theory is that these people are practical and business-like and don’twant to be distracted by personalised add-ons.

I, on the other hand, am neither practical nor business-likeand I’m more than happy to distract myself with personalised add-ons! I’mcertainly spending rather a lot of time trying to decide on suitable screenwallpaper right now. It all went wrong when the dog died just over a year agoand I couldn’t bear to look at his adorable face on my laptop screen each day.I decided to go impersonal. I started to photograph flowers in the garden but Isoon got bored with each one. The following three are some of my better attempts. [I've never been much of a photographer!]

Autumn Dahlia Clematis head Daisy

Every few days I would be out in the garden, camera in hand,but now that it’s winter there’s nothing inspiring out there to photograph soat the moment I’m using a picture from that lovely holiday we recently had inJerusalem [did I mention that we went to Jerusalem?!?] I’m sure that I’ll soonbe changing it again. I may go for ducks next time because, as I said in arecent blog post, ducks make me smile and we all need an excuse to smile whilewe’re working, don’t we!

What wallpaper do you have on your computer screen?
Do you keep changing it or have you had the same one for solong that you hardly notice it?
And what does that say about you?

Sticks in a Bundle are Unbreakable

2011-12-01T12:38:00.001Z

The title of this post is a Kenyan proverb and a lovely wayof talking about the security of being part of a group. Rather like ‘United westand divided we fall’, it’s the sort of feeling strikers get when they walkout together in order to raise awareness of a valid complaint.

I decided to Google the phrase and discovered that Sticks in a Bundle are Unbreakable is the name of a movement based in South Korea who want to...

"...reach to the needy through numbers, through working together andthrough spreading love. In unity lies strength and the more people who becomeaware of different humanitarian needs around the globe will seek out solutionsfaster."

Now that's an amazingly positive use of group strength. If only everybody had the same ideals. You can read more about them on their Facebook page.

I decided to look for more proverbs with a similar message. [Yes,I was supposed to be writing and no, this was not a strictly necessary activitybut it was enjoyable nevertheless!]

None of us is as smart as all of us:

Brainstorming ideas can produce much better results thansitting scratching your head and thinking on your own. It works particularlywell with a creative writing class, which brings me to writers' critique groups. They're not only helpful but they're enjoyable and inspiring too. If you're a writer and you don't belong to such a group then you must join one now!

A single leaf provides no shade:

I’m not sure if the two examples I’ve given here quite fitthis proverb. What do you think?

Firstly, singing in a choir has a totally different feel tosinging solo. I’ve only tried it once and it was amazing to be part of that wall ofsound.

Secondly, my most mind-blowing group experience was when Itook part in a group meditation. I’d tried meditating on my own several timeswith little success so when I joined a group I wasn’t expecting much, but asthe group leader talked us into the meditation I could feel an atmosphere surrounding me, almost like a presence. I felt calm and positive and there was something else that I can't put into words, something quite spiritual. I've never experienced anything like it before or since.

Have I interpreted the ‘single leaf’ proverb correctly?

And what has been your most powerful group experience?

The responsibilities of being a cook

2011-11-25T11:22:00.001Z

As the main cook and menu-preparer of the house I take totalresponsibility for the standard of our diet. If we eat rubbish then I’ve onlymyself to blame. Diet features high on the guidelines for caring for ourkidneys and that’s something that I now have to take very seriously.

We spent the last two days in the Amyloidosis Unit of theRoyal Free Hospital in London and we chatted with a lot of people whose kidneyfunctions are far worse than Mr A’s and who are consequently on dialysis. Amyloidosisproduces sticky platelets in the blood and so the kidneys are often the first organto be affected. These tests that Mr A has twice-a-year are designed to keep himoff dialysis for as long as possible but it’s not only Amyloidosis suffererswho have kidney problems...

...how many of us abuse our kidneys on a daily basis? *stickshand up in air*

As cook it’s up to me to take care of Mr A’s kidneys, tokeep them going as long as possible and to stop abusing my own at the same timeso here goes. I'm going to try and:

Eat lots of fruit and vegetables (includingpeas and beans) and grain-based food like bread, pasta, noodles and rice.
Eat some lean meat like chicken and fish eachweek.
Eat only small amounts of salty or fatty food.
Drink plenty of water instead of other drinks.
Maintain a healthy weight.
Stay fit. Do at least 30 minutes of physicalactivity that increases my heart rate on five or more days a week.
Not smoke.
Limit alcohol to one small drink a day. (That's because I'm a female. It's two small drinks a day if you're a bloke.)
Have my blood pressure checked regularly.
Do things to help me relax and reduce my stresslevels.

I don't really drink and I certainly don't smoke but my hardest ones are 3 (I can’t resist eating crisps!) 6 (I’mlazy!!!) and 10 (I get wound up too easily!)

Which ones are hard for you?

Ducks

2011-11-21T15:59:00.001Z

I do love ducks. In fact, I think they’re becoming something of an obsession.

These are my top three ‘Things About Ducks That I Love.’

1. I love the way theyappear to glide across the water with very little effort and yet you can seetheir feet pedalling manically beneath the surface.

2. I love the way theirquacks sound like hilarious laughter. Whenever I hear them I have to smile.

3. I love their beautifulmarkings, especially the ones with the petrol green/blue heads.

My favourite cartoon duck is Donald Duck. My son can do an amazing impersonation of him. Quacks me up every time! [Sorry]

And I love writing about ducks too.

Several years ago I had a picture book shortlisted in The Little Tiger Press' Picture Book Competition. The story was called A Day on Duck Park. Afterthe competition was over I submitted my story for publication with more than my usualamount of optimism. It went out to sixteen publishers and was rejected sixteen times.Apparently it’s not ‘strong enough to make it in the present competitive market’.*sigh*

I have now written two new duck picture book stories. The duckcharacters are lively. I think they’re funny. I’ve done all I can to make thestorylines ‘strong enough to make in in the present competitive market’ andthey’re about to be submitted. So, with webbed feet crossed, here's hoping theyhave more luck than my first duck story.

Trees

2011-11-16T11:50:00.001Z

We drove up to Manchester to see the family last weekendand, even though the doctors have said that Mr A is well enough to drive, I’mstill doing half of all our journeys so I don’t lose my nerve again. [What awuss I am!]

Mr A’s half of the journey took in a bleak stretch of the M6,so I grabbed my pencil and notebook and wrote this:

The trees beside the motorway
Cling to man-made banks,
Drop carbon-coated leaves
That crumple beneath wheels
Revealing fields
of apathetic animals,
Stubbled crops
And barns that at a glance
Could be our local B&Q warehouse.

On Sunday morning we walked on Manchester’s lovely HeatonPark and saw these amazing Beech trees... a world away from those weedy M6trees.

The Sleeper Train to Venice versus EL AL airlines

2011-11-10T16:12:00.001Z

From the inconceivable to the incomparable

[I’m still blogging on about holidays - Sorry!]

The inconceivable is what I think about the Sleeper Train to Venice. I’m terrified of flying so when, in 2009, we planned aholiday in Venice we decided to take the Sleeper Train from Paris. I thought it would beromantic to travel across the Alps by night and arrive in Venice next morning. Iwas wrong!

Firstly it was pitch black and you could see none of thatbeautiful scenery. Secondly, this was no Sleeper Train. This was a Wide-Awake-Screech-Lurch-ClangTrain with cabins that were hardly big enough to stand up in.

[Mr A has just asked me to point out that the only thing stoppinghim from sleeping was me moaning about not being able to sleep!]

The only compensation [and it was a massive compensation]was that this was our view of the Grand Canal as we had breakfast every morning on the hotel terrace.

On the other hand, the incomparable is my view of EL AL airlines. Like I said, I’m terrified of flying so when we planned a holiday inIsrael we decided to fly by EL AL, the Israeli airline. It’s more expensivethan a package flight but I suspected that it would be money well spent. I wasright!

Boarding an El Al flight was like entering a crazy village.I forgot that we were about to be suspended high in the air with no safety net.I didn’t even notice that we were over an hour late taking off. This was goldstandard people watching! When the staff tried to get us to prepare fortake-off few of the passengers saw the need to sit down, or fasten their seatbelts, or turn off their phones. The airline staff were very patient. They’d obviouslydone this before.

Once in the air there were cots to be assembled, babies tobe fed and changed, prayers to be said by the men gathering at the back of theplane, not to mention the drinks, nibbles, trays of food and, at the end ofeach aisle, drinks machines and snacks.

I’d been told that some people never fly to Israel. Theywalk and now I understand. This was a large plane with two aisles. A number ofthe passengers spent the entire flight walking up one aisle and down theother... even when we were coming in to land. On the flight home, as we wereabout to touch down at Luton airport, a lady casually wandered to the toilet asif she were in a cafe. That’s what it was! It was more like sitting in a cafethan being on an aeroplane and it was the first time I’d stepped from a planewith a relaxed smile on my face. As I said, El Al are incomparable.

Are you a 4p Worker or a Papillon?

2011-11-06T08:00:00.000Z

Plus some more photos of Israel!

I've made up the phrase 4p worker so please don’t rush for the dictionary. It stands for perseverance, persistence, pertinacity and patience. I do love alliteration. So a 4p worker is someone who has:

Perseverance – plain old-fashioned hard work

Persistence – sticking with that hard work

Pertinacity – stubbornly sticking with said hard work and

Patience – the ability to not be irritated by and so not be distractedfrom the hard work.

These are valuable skills, especially if you’re a writer,and I must mention all those people who have just launched themselves intothis year’s NaNoWriMo (write a novel in a month) challenge. I admire you all. I couldn’tstick to the strict regime, but then I’m not a 4p worker. So good luck everyone[assuming you’ve got time to read this blog post!]

Last week I saw two amazing 4p workers. [Did I mention thatwe were in Israel last week? Oh, you read my last blog post? Sorry. I’m still on a high!]

4p Worker Number One

We werevisiting an Italian Synagogue in Jerusalem. It was a beautiful, gold leaf-adornedSynagogue.

The Synagogue had a small museum for tourists and there we met an antique restorer. She worked constantly while we stood and gaped.

This is said to be one of the oldest Arks in the world. [TheArk is where the Torah Scrolls are kept in the Synagogue.] It had oncebeen very beautiful and the restorer was working hard to recreate that beauty.What a job!

4p Worker Number Two

Masada is in the Negevdesert and when we visited it was steaming hot. In the heat of the midday sun we were taken on a guided tour around the ancientruins.

We ended up at what had once been a Synagogue. The tour guide pointed to a smallstructure in the corner of the ruins of the Synagogue and said,

“There’s a scribe in there, writing out Torahscrolls.” But it was getting on for 90^o up there! Surely it must bea museum dummy-style mock-up, but no! There really was a man writing eachletter of the Torah with perfect precision.

Now that’s what I call a 4p worker. I only hope he hadair-conditioning!

If I was a 4p worker I wouldn’t have five half-finishedmanuscripts on my computer... or an ironing pile that keeps falling over. Iguess I’m one of those people who are destined to flit from one thing toanother, like a butterfly... or rather a papillon! [I do love alliteration.]

So, what are you, a 4p worker or a papillon?

Jerusalem

2011-11-01T09:51:00.000Z

We’ve just spent a week in Jerusalem. I was dubious aboutgoing. I’m not a great traveller but there were several reasons why I ~~forced~~encouraged myself to go.

1. I’d never been toIsrael before.

2. Everyone kepttelling me that I had to go at least once in my life.

3. When my Dad was very ill [he died in 1977] he said how he wished he'd gone to Israel.

So I went. This was my first view of the Old City. It didn’tfill me with awe but with trepidation...

A view of the outer wall from Jaffa Gate.

...because this was how we got lost in the Old City.

Don't know where we were, but it was somewhere in the Old City!

This was the start of our second day and the moment I fellin love with Jerusalem.

View from our hotel window as the sun rose over Jerusalem.

I don’t know how it happened but the rest of the week flewby in an emotional whirlwind. We went to Masada and floated in the Dead Sea.

Cable car about to take us up Masada.

A view of the Dead Sea from the top of Masada.

We walked right down to the Western Wall.

Men's section of the Western Wall.

And I was sad when it was time to come home.

El Al Departure Lounge and, yes, that clock does say 4.40 am!

I have a feeling that we’ll be going back sometime soon tosee a bit more of that amazing country but first I have to get my head out ofthe El Al clouds and back into doing some writing. This isn’t going to be easy.

Blogging Introspection

2011-10-25T09:30:00.000+01:00

Thank you Nutshell, from The Writing Nut, for the 7 x 7 LinkAward, especially as it’s provided me with a most useful morning. For this award I've got to post 7 links from my own blog and I must say that trawling through old posts has been fascinating. My blog style and outlook have changed without me noticing it. I'd recommend this activity to anybody who's been blogging for over a year.

[One thing I've discovered is that my blog's 2^nd birthday is imminent. I didn't know that! I’ll have to throw a party... again!]

According to the 7 x 7 Award rules I have to find posts in the following 7 categories: [You can click on the category title to visit thepost.]

My most beautiful post

This has to be the one where I travelled on 7 trains in oneday [nice link to 7 x 7, huh!] to visit my brand new grandson. There’s a photoof me holding him and, I know I’m biased, but he really is beautiful.

My most helpful post

OK, I’m being flippant, but the post does claim to be awarning about wishes. It’s my poem called My Little Nut Tree.

My most popular post

This was the virtual Macmillan World’s Biggest Coffee Morningpost which is no surprise as I worked hard to spread the word. This blogpostraised £215.50 for support for people with Cancer, a very worthwhile cause, and it was done in memory of my Mum.

My most pride-worthy post

This was my campaign to improve care for the frail elderlyin hospital. It was initiated by the appalling care that my Mum received whenshe was so very ill and the realisation that many people are too frightened tocomplain. I’m proud to say that changes were made at the Leicester General Hospitalin response to my campaign.

My most controversial post

This has to be the one where I itemised my complaints about myMum’s hospital stay.

My most surprisingly successful post

According to my stats the post about a shivering mid-wintervisit to the National Amyloidosis Centre is one of the most frequently visitedon my blog which is good as the main reason for starting this blog was to tryand link up with other people affected by Amyloidosis. Mr A is such a positiveperson that it’s easy to forget that there’s no cure, just courses ofchemotherapy to keep control of the accumulation of sticky platelets in hisblood.

My most underrated post

I love this one. I was hoping it might become an official UKsport with as big a following as football but sadly the sack race is still onlyenjoyed in primary schools during the annual sports day.

So once again, thank you Nutshell for encouraging me to partakein this session of introspection. I’m passing this award on to anyone who wouldlike to have as useful a morning as I’ve just had… and now I’m off toreorganise my labels. I can’t find a thing in this place!

My Strictly Secret

2011-10-20T20:02:00.000+01:00

Strictly Come Dancing is back on our screens.
I’m as happy as Len with a ten.
Cause for three months I’ll tango and jive in my dreams
With the Strictly Professional men.

I’ll dress up in sequins, a basque made of lace,
High heels and a teeny tight skirt,
Doing chasses and flicks with a smileon my face
Cause not one single muscle will hurt.

Now, I know that a dream should remain strictly that
But this dream is a much longed-for goal.
It's to dance a routine with a cane and a hat
In the arms of that cute Brendan Cole.

EXPLANATIONS [for those who need them!]: Strictly Come Dancing in the UK is similar toDancing with the Stars in the US. It runs for about three months and I bloggedabout it last year here.

Brendan Cole with
Lisa Snowdon in 2008

Len is one of the judges and he doesn’t often awardthe top mark of a ten. Brendan Cole, one of the Professionals, is pictured left... enough said!

Celebrities are paired with professional dancers and have toperform a dance each week. It’s tough, not least because they have to wear gloriouslyskimpy, glitzy outfits [and that’s just the men!]The public votes for theirfavourite couple and each week the least popular is voted off.

The main show is on a Saturday evening. The results show ison Sunday and every week day there’s a half hour show giving an update ontraining and interviewing the couples. So you see I’m quite contented for thenext three months. My TV viewing is sorted.

Across Borders

2011-10-16T18:11:00.000+01:00

A few posts ago I mentioned that I’d won a copy of Can’tSleep Without Sheep by Susanna Leonard Hill and that it hadn’t arrived yet.Well, thank you so much to Susanna because... it just arrived!! and what's more it’s travelled 3344.841 miles. Can you believe it? It’s crossed New York State, the Atlantic Ocean, Ireland and England. What abig journey for a little book [Actually, it’s quite a big book with greatpictures that include huge animals… but I was using poetic licence!]

I’ve been following Susanna’s blog for some time now and althoughwe live 3344.841 miles away from each other, there are many similarities betweenus. She’s an ex-teacher who loves animals [just like me]. She’s not so keen onhousework [definitely like me!] She writes children’s picture books [just likeme again!] and I now have one of them. The book is hilarious. It’s one of thosestories that you look at and say, “Why didn’t I think of that!” Well done,Susanna.

There may be similarities amongst us bloggers but there aredifferences too. This week’s posts hit a bit of a language problem and thanksto a number of my blog friends I now know that:

In the US a cooker is called anoven
US bakers do not use castor sugar [which is finely milled sugar andhas nothing to do with castor oil].
J. L. Campbell explained that in Jamaica electricity is soexpensive that they prefer to cook on gas.
And during a Twitter chat with Misha I discovered that‘holding thumbs’ in South Africa is the same as ‘crossing fingers’ in the UK.

I love it when there are similarities and I’m fascinated bythe differences but more importantly, I love the way that we can all blog andchat and get on with each other across all the borders of the world. In fact, wouldn’t itbe amazing if we could nurture world understanding and peace just by bloggingtogether? Maybe I should suggest it to the United Nations.

My New Cooker-thingummy and a recipe for Orange Biscuits

2011-10-12T16:56:00.000+01:00

I mentioned my new cooker in my last post and was takenaback to discover that in the US it’s not called a cooker. I don’t know what itis called. I’m hoping that one of my blogger buddies will tell me. To clear upany misunderstanding, this is it and you can even see my delicious Orange Biscuitscooking in the oven.

It’s a Belling electric cooker with induction hobs and Ilove it. The only down side was that we had to have new saucepans. Theinduction works by magnet and so the saucepans have to be able to stick to amagnet (there is a technical term but...) It was worth the extra investment. Theheat is almost instant... Hang on, I’m starting to sound like an advert so I’ll move swiftly on to the biscuits (cookies!).

These biscuits are so easy to make. All you need is:

5 oz self raising flour

2 oz castor sugar

4 oz butter

Grated zest of one orange

Put all the mixture into a bowl and rub together.

Mix until it forms a dough and then roll small pieces into balls and place them on an ungreased baking tin.

Press downwith a fork and bake at 180C/Gas 4 for about 15 minutes. Sprinkle with caster sugar, let them cool and eat them... if you can wait that long. The smell of orange oil is mouth watering!

I can’t promise they’ll do much for your dietor your cholesterol but they never hang around for very long in our house.

That’s it. I’m off to put the kettle on so I can have a cup of teaand an Orange Biscuit... but I’m still curious to know what people in the US cook their dinners on.

Winning Books

2011-10-10T16:00:00.000+01:00

I’ve won four books this week!

Two books arrived in the postthe other day from John Dougherty. I’d entered a book title competition on the AwfullyBig Blog Adventure site during their Litfest 2011 and have won a signed copy of ‘Zeuson the Loose!’ and ‘Bansi O’Hara and the Bloodline Prophecy’. They both looklike wacky reads and have joined my tbr pile.

Susanna Leonard Hill had a competition on her blog recently and I've won a signed copy of one of her picture books, ‘Can’t Sleep Without Sheep’. Itsounds like fun but I haven’t received it yet as it’s having to travelall the way from the US.

And this morning the postman delivered a signed copy of RebeccaEmin’s book, ‘New Beginnings’. I entered a caption competition on her blog andthis is my prize. It sounds fascinating.

Here's the sales blurb: Sam Hendry is not looking forward to starting at her newschool. Things go from bad to worse as the day of truth arrives and all of herfears come true... and then some. When Sam meets a different group of peoplewho immediately accept her as a friend, she begins to feel more positive. Withher new friends and interests, will Sam finally feel able to face the bully whotaunts her, and to summon up the courage to perform on stage?

So when I’ve finished here I’m going to settle down with amug of tea and a piece of homemade fruit bread and start Rebecca’s books.

[Yes, you did read that correctly... homemade fruit bread. Wehave a new cooker and it’s amazing. I now know why I haven't been able to bake recently.This new cooker can be set to different temperatures unlike the old one which I now realise was cooking everything on a temperature akin to furnace level.]

Before I settle down with Rebecca’s book I’d just like tothank everyone again for their support during our virtual Macmillan World’sBiggest Coffee Morning. We raised £215.50 for the charity. If you missed it youcan still visit the blog post and the JustGiving page that we set up in memoryof our Mum.

That only leaves the fancy dress and coffee morning jokeawards to dish out.

The fancy dress award goes to *roll of drums*

JO for her amazingly outlandish fairy costume.

And the coffeemorning joke award goes to *another roll of drums*

Sarah Pearson for:

Doctor doctor, my right eye hurts whenever I drinkcoffee.
Well take the spoon out then!

Well we did ask for coffee jokesand that’s what Sarah gave us!

Are words more powerful than photographs?

2011-10-06T10:43:00.000+01:00

I think so. Photos show the superficial. You don’t get tosee the thoughts, the before and the after. On the other hand they can bepieces of art, carefully framed, pleasing to the eye... except when I’m behindthe camera. I’m very much a novice. If one of my photos is pleasingly framed,it’ll be a complete accident but I’m working on my skills. I’ve just signed upto the 365 Project which means that I’m posting a photo a day on this website.

I suppose the idea behind it is to produce a diary inpicture form. If this was a written diary I would have no problems. I could recordand relive any number of experiences in just a few short sentences but as you’reonly allowed one photo each day I’m finding it difficult... and I’ve gone and setoff in my usual unplanned panster style. The first two photos were of the cats[naturally]. The second two were flowers in the garden and now I’m wondering, shouldI decide on a theme or should I just snap and post?

This was yesterday’s contribution. It’s a close-up of a deadclematis head but it looked so pretty sitting amongst the yellowing leaves thatI thought I’d capture it. [Between you and me I’m a bit pleased and a lotsurprised at how it came out.]

Today’s contribution could be a lunch table filled with food...provided I remember to get my camera out. I’ve lost count of the number of timesI’ve arrived home from a visually spectacular outing and realised that,although my camera was in my bag, I’ve not used it once! Today is my book group/ladieswho lunch time again. We each take a dish to contribute to the meal and italways works deliciously. All I’ve got to do is to remember to take a photo beforewe’ve eaten it all.

What theme would you choose for a 365 Project or would yoube a panster?

We Raised Money

2011-10-03T11:21:00.000+01:00

Having a virtual coffee morning was always going tobe a bit of an experiment. It’s one thing throwing a virtual party for a bit offun. It’s quite another inviting people to a virtual fund raising event... butit worked!

Some party statistics:
172 visitors shared virtual coffee and cake with us overthe last three days.
There were 20 fancy dress outfits and 5 jokes. [awardsannounced later this week.]
More importantly, we’ve raised £177.50 so far for the MacmillanCancer Support charity (and there are a few more donations still to come in!)

TheJustGiving website has been a great help, ensuring that all your donations wentstraight to the Macmillan Cancer Support team. If you haven’t visited the memorial page thatwe set up then please feel free to do so. There’s no obligation to donateand we’ve talked a bit about Mum and about the way we lost Dad to cancer too.The page, which you can find here, will stay live for the next few weeks.

There has been an additional bonus for me over thisweekend. As I explained a few posts ago, my sister, Hilary Rifka, and I have lived200 miles away from each other for over 15 years now. We’re always talking onthe phone but we don’t often see each other and we weren’t sure quite how runninga joint virtual party would work... but it did!

We’ve giggled our way through herthree fancy dress outfits, my deteriorating parrot costume and we even ended theparty in the way we always used to end parties when we were kids...

We sang “Sisters, Sisters”.

Members of the family reading this now will be grimacing and nodding theirheads and saying,

“This is true. They did. And they still can’t sing it in tune!”But do we care? No! We thoroughly enjoyed our weekend so thank you to everyonewho came along and turned it into a real virtual party!

Hilary Rifka has asked me to include this messagefrom her:

It’s been a fantastic party. I've lovedmeeting everyone, the jokes, the fancy dress, the endless coffee making and thefeather clearing. But on a serious note this was all for a really goodcause and something very close to our hearts. Our way of giving something backto the Macmillian Nurses who do such a wonderful job. A big thank you forsharing this with us - and honestly Ros has been the brainsbehind it all - I'm just the clown playing for laughs and clearing up themess!!!!!! So Ros (my lovely little sister), credit where its due - Well Done sis..... *big hugs*.

And *big hugs* back...in fact let’s all pat ourselves on the back and have a group hug. [or is that a physical impossibility... hmmm!]

Macmillan's World's Biggest Coffee Morning

2011-09-30T07:57:00.000+01:00

Welcome! It's lovely to see you

This party will continue until Sunday evening

so everyone gets a chance to come along

Would you like tea? Coffee?Something cold? My sister, Hilary, is in charge of the drinks. Herspeciality is coffee, freshly ground. [She’s the classy one of thefamily. I prefer instant! I’m such a pleb.] Perhaps you’d rather have a glass of wine? She can rustle up absolutely anything! Notrouble!

As for me, I’ve been busy in the kitchen

*fingers crossed behind back*

I've been making ice cream and snacks so do help yourself.

[Justthink how much easier life would be if it was all virtual. We could haveanything we wanted by just thinking about it... or would the novelty wear off?]

Ah! You noticed that I’m wearing FANCY DRESS! I betyou thought I was a real parrot for a minute there. Difficult to do? Not atall! I stitched each feather on by hand. Every feather is a different colour and my wings are tied on with wire. Good, isn't it! "Squawk!"

Do tell me what you’ve come as. I can't wait to hear about it. *jumps up and down with excitement* There’ll be a CoffeeMorning Fancy Dress Award for the most ingenious/amusing fancy dress outfit.

Which reminds me... COFFEE MORNING JOKES!
There’s a Coffee Morning JokesAward too. [Clean jokes only please. Remember that I’m a Grandma!] Extra points will be awarded for coffee morning topics and they don't have to be hilariously funny. I’ll start us off to show you what I mean... *clears throat*

Knock, Knock... Come on!!... someone answer me!!!!...
“Who’sthere?”
Thank you! That’s more like it! Honey bee.
“Honey bee who?”
Honey bee a dear and get me a nice cup of tea.

And now for theserious bit. This coffee morning has been registered with the Macmillan CancerSupport team and they have given us the ok to run our coffee morning virtually.

As regular visitors to this blog will know, our mother, Frances Denning, died of cancer in April of this year. The Macmillan nurses were there for her during those last few weeks and this is our way of thanking them.

We've set up a memorial page through JustGiving so that donations will go straight to the Macmillan Cancer Support team. Please visit the page at http://www.justgiving.com/Frances-Denning.

Thank you for coming along and we hope you've enjoyed our

Macmillan World's Biggest Coffee Morning.

The fun will continue until Sunday evening.

Do pop back after you've visited the Frances Denning memorial page.

There'll still be plenty of tea in that pot.

Busy, busy week

2011-09-28T17:13:00.001+01:00

What a busy, busy week! We’ve been to Wales and now we’re back!We’ve been visiting my sister-in-law in her amazing cottage in the side of amountain with its steep drive and terraced lawns, damp with dew and steepenough to whisk your feet from beneath you. I’m a city girl at heart.

Now it’s time for apple and honey and

Happy New Year messages to everyone.

Let’s hope it’s a sweet and healthy one.

And soon it’ll be time for our virtual Macmillan's World's Biggest Coffee Morning. I hope you’re getting your Coffee Morning Fancy Dress Outfitsready. I’ve got mine all sorted and hanging in my virtual wardrobe. There’ll beawards for the most original outfits. You can describe them to me when youarrive any time between Friday 30th September and Sunday 2nd October... and don’t forget to bring your Coffee Morning Jokes with you.

Of course, there is a more serious side to the event. TheMacMillan nurses were there for Mum in those last few weeks and that’s why we (meand my sister, Hilary) have set up a Frances Denning memorial page throughJustGiving so that people can donate. You can find it at http://www.justgiving.com/Frances-Denningand all donations go directly to MacMillan Cancer Support. Friends have alreadystarted donating. You don’t have to wait.

...now to unpack the suitcases. What a busy, busy week!

I had a dream... and some awards. Yay!

2011-09-25T12:41:00.000+01:00

Over the last few weeks I’ve received three awards. Thank you,thank you. They’re from three lovely new blogger friends who I met throughRachael’s Platform Building Campaign. They’re well worth a visit.

Catherine from Catherine Johnson, Writer

Diane from Writer and Dreamer at Work

Michele from A Wanderer in Paris

I love receiving awards but as ever I’m going to break therules. I’m now supposed to tell you things that you don’t know about me but I’vedecided to turn it on its head. I want you to tell me something I don’t knowabout me. You see, I had a dream...

...no really! The other night I dreamt that my diary wasfilled in for years into the future. Page after page of my scribbledhandwriting told of events that hadn’t yet occurred, emotions that hadn’t yetbeen felt. I tried hard not to look at the words. I didn’t want to know but Icouldn’t help myself. I started to turn the pages beyond today... and then Iwoke up. It was such a relief but I can’t get it out of my mind. The dreammust have meant something only I can’t work out what. So, can you tell me somethingabout me that I don’t know... please?

And now for the passing on of the awards and again I’vebroken the rules. I’ve created a brand new Friendly Blogger Award.

It’s forthose bloggers who chat to me, who take the time to comment on my blog. I lovehaving visitors and thank you all for reading my blog but those who comment havegradually become friends. We know about each others’ lives, care about the badand celebrate the good. I’d like to give all of you the award but I’m delightedto say that, at a rough count, I have are over 60 regular commenters... so howto decide?

I've had to select names randomly from the comments listof the last few posts. Many apologies to those who comment regularly and havenot been recognised this time but I’m going to make another Friendly BloggerAward following my virtual Macmillan's World's Biggest Coffee Morning. It will take place here on my blog next weekend, 30th Sept to 2nd October, so come along, support a very worthwhile cause and have a fun time with all my competitions/virtual coffee and cake.

Finally my Friendly Blogger Award goes to:

Amy at The Green Bathtub

Barbara at From my Kitchen Table

Christine at 'And so the story goes...'

Giggles and Guns at GigglesandGuns

Hilary at Positive Letters.... Inspirational Stories....

Julie at Empty Nest Insider

Jemi at Just Jemi

Manzanita at Wanna Buy a Duck

Pauline at Scribbles

Rebecca at Rebecca Emin: Ramblings of a Rusty Writer

Robyn at Life by Chocolate

Talli at Talli Roland

Award rules: Send this award to about 10 people who regularly comment on your blog. A link back to my blog would be good...

...and don't forget to keeeeeep commenting! [as they almost say on my favourite TV programme, Strictly Come Dancing, which is back next weekend!! Can’t wait!!]

The Imago Stage

2011-09-25T11:47:00.000+01:00

Well, really, Rachael! What have you done to us now?

Rachaelof Rach Writes... has given all the Campaigners a task to write, in 200 wordsor less, a piece with the word Imago in the titles and including the words miasma,lacuna, oscitate and synchronicity. Hummph! Here’s my contribution to the task:

The Imago Stage

There’s movement among the miasma of rotting vegetation

Pupae have too long been huddled together in diapauses

Now they are shuddering,

Straining against fine lacunas in their membranes

Each pupa has a weak spot,

The lacuna oscitates and

A crushed, distorted creature emerges.

Glistening wings dry, extend,

Colours obscure the rotting background

And with perfect synchronicity butterflies take to flight.

Such is the imago stage of holometabolism.

[If you should happen to want to 'like' this, it's number 90 on the Linkytools page here.]

Peace One Day

2011-09-21T15:17:00.000+01:00

Today is Global PeaceDay and had I not been on Twitter yesterday I would never have known. The following is PeaceOne Day’s official aim for the day:

For Peace Day 2012, Peace One Day is calling for andworking towards a Global Truce - a day of ceasefire and non-violence observedby all sectors of society globally ... POD hopes this will be thelargest reduction in global violence in recorded history, both domestically andinternationally.

Peace One Day wasthe idea of the film-maker, Jeremy Gilley, and in 2001 the UnitedNations announced that an official day of global ceasefire and non-violence wouldbe held annually on 21 September.

You only have to visit their website to see that they're doing a lot of good in troubled areas but I'm afraid that it won't bring us lasting worldpeace... wouldn’t it be amazing if it could! I suspect that aggression ishardwired into our behaviour long before we’re old enough to make decisionsabout war. You only have to watch a group of kids playing in the playground toappreciate how close we all are to arguments and fighting. As an ex-primaryschool teacher I know how true this is.

I couldn’t possibly say how many times I’ve made young childrenface each other after a fight and say,
"Sorry!"
The words tumble fromtheir mouths but there’s no meaning in them.

This is a time of year when the Jewish High Holy Days areapproaching. It’s traditional to think back over the past year. Maybe you've wronged someone. Maybe you've said something hurtful to a family member or friend. Well nowis the time to tell them you’re sorry... with words that don’t just tumble fromyour mouth!

If we could all do that all the time, then maybe there would be no war andno need for a Peace One Day movement. In the meantime I salute Jeremy Gilleyand his work. Let’s hope that it can help towards making a difference.

~~~~~

Only 10 days until our virtual

Macmillan's World's Biggest Coffee Morning.

From Friday 30^th September to Sunday 2^nd October.

Come to this blog for cakes, drinks, fun and lots of awards to be won.

Don't forget, we’ll be asking for donations to Macmillan Cancer Support at JustGiving.

[This event has been registered with the Macmillan Cancer Support Charity

and every penny of your donation goes to the Macmillan charity. Thank you.]

~~~~~

Wickedness

2011-09-18T16:55:00.001+01:00

There’s a new book out that’s really wicked. *sigh* [That’sthe sound of someone who’s feeling old.] I’d like to know how the word ‘wicked’first came to mean cool and, while I’m on the subject, where did the term ‘cool’come from? Everyone’s using it these days, except for me. Apparently it embarrassesmy kids.

“You’re too old to say ‘cool’,Mum!” Charming! In my day it was ‘swinging’, ‘groovy’ or even ‘hip’. Youknew where you were with terms like that. I wonder if it’s better to be cool thanhot and how can wicked be both good and bad? What word do you use to describesomething that’s really good?

...which brings me back to the book. I’ve mentioned beforeabout our writing critique group. We’re all children’s authors and we meet twicea month, once to crit each other’s work and once to have lunch and discuss novelswritten by other children’s authors. [ok, ok, so it’s mostly to have lunch!!] Oneof our group, Deborah White, was recently signed up to a two book deal with Templar.The first book is now out. It’s called Wickedness and, like I say, it’s wicked.It’s about two flame-haired girls, both fourteen, both living in London, butfour hundred years apart. It’s a full-on adventure story that includes history,fantasy and romance... something for everyone!

Seeing Deborah’s book emerge into the real world is a bitlike watching a friend’s baby grow. We saw it develop and mature. We know bothflame-haired girls as if they were our nieces. I can’t wait for you all to readit so we can discuss the story. It’s cool... sorry, I mean wicked.

Wickedness by Deborah White ISBN 9781848775312 It’s outin paperback at £6.99 [but if you scoot over to Amazon now you can pick up acopy for £3.91 – how do they do that?]

~~~~~

There are only 12 days until our virtual

Macmillan's World's Biggest Coffee Morning.

From Friday 30^th September to Sunday 2^ndOctober we’ll be having cakes, drinks and fun right here on this blog and there’llbe lots of awards to be won... but most importantly, we’ll be asking fordonations to Macmillan Cancer Support at JustGiving in memory ofour Mum who died five months ago from cancer. We miss her very much.

[This event has been registered with the Macmillan Cancer Support Charity and everypenny of your donation goes to the Macmillan charity. Thank you.]

~~~~~

What People do for Charity

2011-09-13T19:46:00.000+01:00

I’ve been watching with a certain degree of ghoulishfascination as David Walliams completed his gruelling eight-day, 140 mile charityswim along the River Thames. He’s suffered from ‘Thames Tummy’ [all that rawsewage - yuk!] He’s been bitten by water-fleas and attacked by swans. He’ssaved a dog from drowning and almost passed out from hypothermia but he hasmanaged to raise over £1,000,000 for Sport Relief. Amazing!

We did our bit for charity last night. We went out for acurry. It was Mr A’s first visit to an Indian Restaurant since he had his stemcell transplant last year. The dietary restrictions were over long ago but wejust hadn’t managed to get out for an authentic curry. [Apparently mine don’tcount!] He seems to have survived the meal. He had a tender tummy this morning but nothing on the scaleof Walliams’ troubles. The evening was in aid of Save the Children so it was worth a bitof a rumbling tum. Our friend regularly organises events for this charity and last night raised over £700. Excellent!

A charity that’s very close to my heart has a special event comingup. On Friday 30th September The World’s Biggest Coffee Morning will be held byMacmillan Cancer Support.

I’ve decided that this year I’m going to organise...

~ avirtual coffee morning ~

The added advantage is that my sister, Hilary, can joinme. Well she does live 200 miles away and this is the nearest thing we’ll get to doinganything together this autumn!

I’ll be posting up more about the event nextweek but we’ve already set up a page for donations to Macmillan Cancer Support inmemory of our mum and we’ve said a few words about her so please go along and visit our page by clicking the following link...

Rosalind and Hilary's page in memory of Frances Denning

The coffee morning will last all weekend [that’s the greatthing about being virtual!] so if you can’t make it on the Friday or Saturdaythen you can join in the fun on Sunday. There’ll be lots of cake [guaranteededible unlike my non-virtual ones!] and a continual supply of freshly ground coffee, plus de-caff if you prefer. I’ll be wearing fancy dress [more aboutthat next week] and there’ll be awards given out [more about that next weektoo] but above all it’ll be about raising money to help people with cancer andright now I can’t think of a more worthy cause.

Behind Front Doors

2011-09-08T17:55:00.000+01:00

Do you wonder what’s behind front doors,

Wishing for a life that isn't yours?

Do you look at neighbours with regret?

You think you want to live their life and yet...

I bet those neighbours often look at you.

I bet they envy everything you do.

They’d love to have the life they think is yours.

So many things can hide behind front doors.

Pet Points

2011-09-06T19:28:00.001+01:00

I’ve been tagged by Maria at First Draft Café. Maria isone of the few bloggers who I know in real life. We joined together to present a creative writing evening for local residents... a most successful event. Now Maria has tagged me and the rules are thatI must tell you 10 random things about myself but I'm changing that slightly to 10 facts about me andmy pets (not forgetting some cat photos at the end of the post.)

1. The first fact has to be that I still miss my darling dogJosh who died suddenly exactly a year ago.

2. Josh was only my second ever dog. When I met Mr A he cameas one of a pair, him and Ben. It was definitely a case of ‘love Mr A, love hisdog’.

3. I’ve always had cats since I was a little girl. My firstcat was called Timothy.

4. For many years I was the slightly embarrassed owner oftwo cats who my ex-husband named Plink and Plonk. They were lovely boys but, with names like that, I preferred not to call them in from the front ofthe house.

5. When I moved in with Mr A we had to introduce Plink andPlonk to Ben. Ben was a very excited dog. ‘Living with cats! Yo and woof!’ Howwrong can a dog be? They sat on the dining table and took swipes athis muzzle as he trotted past. ‘What did I do to deserve that?’

6. I had Plink and Plonk for about 19 years... and then came Rosie, a loving little tortoiseshell cat. She had been rescued from afamily where the toddler had stabbed one of her kittens with a scissors andthrown another down the stairs. The social services removed Rosie and hersurviving kittens and rehomed all but Rosie… until we came along. We hadher for almost 17 years. She died two years ago.

7. Long before Rosie was born my mum embroidered a picture of a cat. To our surprise it was our Rosie. She wasalways being held up next to it to show off thelikeness whenever we had visitors.

Wasn't my Mum clever!

8. In March this year, just before mum died, she told me thatit was time I got cats again. On her advice I did just that. It was goodadvice.

9. In March Mabel and Charlie entered our lives. They aremiddle-aged, blue/grey, girl cats who desperately needed a new home. When wefirst got them they were very nervous and timid.

10. Mable and Charlie are no longer nervous and timid. Onlylast night they were racing each other up and down the stairs and leapingacross us as we watched the television. It’s good to have pets in the house again.

Mabel: Why are you disturbing our breakfast?

Charlie: What's this camera doing here?

Now it's time to pass the tag on. I've tried to choose bloggers who I haven't sent awards to recently but who are regular visitors to my blog. Apologies to those I've missed.

Sarah Pearson at Empty White Pages

Rebecca Emin at Ramblings of a Rusty Writer

Ali Bacon at Between the Lines

D. J. Kirkby at D. J. Kirkby

L. G. Smith at Bards and Prophets

Blow Your Own Trumpet

2011-09-01T18:05:00.000+01:00

Self-promotion doesn’t come naturally. I’m more likely tomake apologetic noises than positive ones when talking about myself and my work.This approach is not ideal for a writer. I need to be able to say,

“Heyeverybody, I’ve just written a hilarious story that would make a brilliant children’spicture book.”

*cringe, cringe, squirm*

It makes me feel conceited. I can hear lots of imaginary people telling me that it’s not nice to... Blow Your Own Trumpet!

I can hear them saying that... I’m Too Big for my Boots!

And to watch out because... Pride Cometh Before a Fall!

Writers are meant to promote their work and I should be used to that sort of thing because we’re surrounded by advertising all the time. It's on the TV, theradio, in the newspapers. They’re all promoting themselves. Some of the thingsthat we buy continue to promote themselves even after we’ve bought them. I’mthinking here about a pair of jeans that I bought yesterday. I had a mostenjoyable shopping expedition with my daughter, a Bank Holiday treat, and ahelpful shop assistant asked me,

“Have you tried not your daughter’sjeans?”

I was confused because I didn’t at the time know that NotYour Daughter’s Jeans is the name of a make of jeans. My daughter and the shopassistant were amused because obviously they did know.

The jeans were amazing. I treated myself to a pair and whenI put them on today I found a label stuck to the inside one of the legs. Itsaid,

“NYDJcannot be held responsible for any positive consequence

that may arise due toyour fabulous appearance when wearing our jeans.”

My first thought was, “How funny!”

My second thought was, “How cheeky!”

My third thought was, “Yeah, that’s how to promote yourself!I’m going to blog about that.”

What's it like to be five?

2011-08-28T11:06:00.002+01:00

I suspect most people can remember being five but can youremember what it felt like to be five? I don’t mean what TV programmes youwatched or which school you went to. I mean your emotions and reactions as yousaw those cartoon cats or Dr Who’s daleks. The programmes may have changed butthe emotions are still the same.

Even if you remember the emotions, it’s not always easy to put them into words. I can remember watching the grey and white flower openingup on the TV screen at the beginning of ‘Watchwith Mother’ but how can I describe the feeling in simple terms? It was a mixture of excitement at the anticipation of afamiliar programme and the exclusivity that this programme was being screened justfor me. There may have been more emotions going on inside me. I can’t remember.

And I’m really not sure how I would describe my emotions on myfirst day at school. The other children were confident, comfortable in theirenvironment, or so I thought. I was scared to step on each strange section offloor in case it sucked me in and ate me up and I cried until I made myselfsick. It was probably a way to try and get Mum to come back for me. I’m notsure. One thing I do know is that I was a real pain!

So what’s brought on this latest bout of introspection? Itreated myself to the 'Children’s Writers’ and Artists’ Yearbook 2012'. The lastone I bought was the 2005 edition. This new one is much thicker. Excellent, Ithought, that means there’ll be more publishers waiting for my manuscripts.Wrong! There are more articles about writing for children though and it was anarticle by Anne Fine that got me thinking.

Anne fine in ‘WritingBooks to Read Aloud’ says that a child has to care about the character in astory so we must make sure that we give the character thoughts and emotionsthat young children will recognise. Her example is, rather than saying what ashame it is that it’s raining, show the water dripping down the child’s neck.It’s the old adage of ‘show don’t tell’ but does it go far enough to touchthose real emotions, the disappointment when rain has stopped a longed-foractivity?

Another article by Geraldine McCaughrean called ‘Writingfor a Variety of Ages’ tells us that she embarks on a picture book as shewould poetry rather than prose, “pouring on the word play and euphoniousvocabulary, making the most of the aural splendour of words.” [auralsplendour... I like that. I must try and use it in conversation today!]

I can do word play. I can even do euphonious vocabulary, butI’m still not sure about the feelings. Does the English language have enoughchild-accessible words to accurately describe those childhood emotions?

How would you put into words the way it felt to have a storyread to you at night?

Or the emotions you experienced during your first funfairride?

Or is there another childhood emotion that you could sharein words?

Shattered

2011-08-25T10:44:00.000+01:00

I love cooking main meals. Didn’t I share a favourite chicken supper dish with you recently? And didn’t you say how delicious it was when youtried it out? But there’s a magic spell people use when they bake cakes and Idon’t know the words. I’ve tried many times and yesterday, because I don’t giveup easily, I tried again. I baked a jam sponge cake.

I do get myself into a bit of a state when I bake but I managedto hold it together. I even remembered to sieve the flour!! I measured thingsout and I whisked like a crazy thing [well you have to get lots of air into it,don’t you?] I watched through the oven door as it started to rise. I evenallowed myself to get a little excited.

When I took it out of the oven it looked a bit knobbly, evenbiscuit-like in places. No matter, I thought. I bet it’ll taste delicious. Iused half a jar of ‘high quality’ strawberry jam, sandwiched it together, sprinkledit with icing sugar, put all the dirty utensils into the sticky mixing bowl,filled the bowl with water and stood back to admire my cake but...

...I stepped back into water. There was water was pouringfrom the work surface. Where was it coming from? I called for Mr A. [It’s whatI always do in times of crisis!] He helped me to mop the water but then he heldup the plastic mixing bowl. There was a shattered, splintered hole in its side.We searched for the broken pieces but it was no good. They weren’t there and weboth knew that there was only one place they could be.

I couldn’t do it myself. I got Mr A. to throw my beautiful,knobbly cake into the dustbin and I went to the corner shop and bought somebiscuits instead. I may try to bake another cake, but not for a while, notuntil I get over this one... and I even remembered to sieve the flour!!

I Love Campaigns

2011-08-22T16:30:00.000+01:00

I’ve joined a blog campaign.

Not another one!

Yes, I am a bit of a one for joining things, aren’t I.

You’ll be telling me next that it’s good for your health orsomething.

Well it’s funny you should say that. I did blog a few monthsago about research which shows that people who join groups live longer.

No! How does that work then?

I’m not sure but I enjoy joining groups and if it’s good forme, well... *shrugs shoulders*

Point taken! So, tell me more about this blog campaign.

I thought you’d never ask. I am now officially a Platform-Building Campaigner.

Rachael Harrieat Rach Writes... is in charge. She says and I quote:

“The Campaign is a way tolink those of us in the writing community together with the aim of helping tobuild our online platforms.”

The Twitter tag is #writecampaignand there are chat groups to join and activities to keep us on our toes. There’sstill time to join up. Just call in at Racheal’s blog.

I might well do that but I still don't get all this 'joining groups is good for your health' malarkey.

As it happens, I had a go at Googling that today and I found 'Our Community' who have been running a campaign called ‘Join in Join up’. Their research has shown that, and once again, I quote:

“joininga community group can significantly improve people's wellbeing, and reduce thechance of ill-health.”

Hang on. If I join loads of groups will it increase my lifeexpectancy accordingly?

I can't say for sure but I reckon it’s worth a try! In fact, this month, as well as joining Rachael's Campaigner group, I’m planning to sign up to our local U3A(University of the Third Age) and see if they’ve got room in their Drawing and Paintingclass.

What group are you going to join this month?

Or do you already belong toloads of groups?

Pyjamas and toothbrush...

2011-08-21T11:18:00.001+01:00

...but where’s the bed?

I’m going to the SCBWI Conference in November. SCBWI standsfor The Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators. I’ve never been to one of their events before. Their annualconference is held in Winchester, quite a distance from Leicester and I’m such areluctant traveller but two friends from my writing critique group are goingand I wasn’t about to be left out.

We booked our places. We even chose the sessions we wantedto attend [I’m going for Picture Book writing] and we thought we weresorted. Wrong!

Two days later a kind writing friend pointed out that theconference doesn’t include accommodation... but... I assumed... *sigh* Ivolunteered to book us into a nearby Bed and Breakfast.

There are a lot of B & Bs in Winchester and they all saidthe same thing.

“We can do any other weekend butthat weekend’s fully booked.”

‘Any other weekend’ was not an option.

Mr A. gallantly offered us free use of his tent. He was oncea boy scout [many years ago] and he still has an old tent in the loft. Hereally believes that one day I’ll go on a camping holiday with him and histent...

...Dream on, Mr A!

Having disregarded the tent and exhausted my list ofB & Bs I contacted the Winchester Tourist Information. Had I tried local pubs?I’m just a bit girly and local pubs can be just a bit scary but they suggested a ‘nice’ one. Irang the pub and snapped up their last two rooms.

So if any of you are planning to go to the SCBWI Conferenceand you haven’t yet booked your accommodation we have a perfectly adequate tentin our loft that you are very welcome to borrow.

I’m now having a recurring nightmare. Three of us in a carwith pyjamas, toothbrushes and nowhere to sleep! Aaagh!!!

...oh yes, and I promise to blog about the conference when I get back.

Three Free Frog Facts

2011-08-17T13:52:00.001+01:00

Trysaying that after a glass of wine!

Iwas talking to my sister on the phone the other morning when I noticed twolarge eyes blinking out at me from the corner of the room.

“Please help me,” the eyes were saying.“I don’t like it in here.”

FactNo. 1 Cats like to catch frogs at this time of the year. Mabel and Charliebring them into the house without apparently harming them physically...although goodness knows what damage they do to the frog’s mental state ofhealth!

Beinga wimp I screamed and Mr A came to the rescue. He scooped up the frog andcarried it gently into the garden. He returned with slimy hands and I yelled,

“Don’t lick your fingers!”

FactNo. 2 Frogs give off a poisonous slimewhen they get hot. The slime causes hallucinations and can be lethal in largedoses. It does explain why princesses keep seeing handsome princes every timethey kiss a frog but I wouldn’t recommend it as an alternative to Internetdating!

MrA was only too pleased to return the frog to the garden as they love eatingslugs [that was an extra frog fact thrown in for good luck!] but the frog didn’t hang around long enough for us to check if it was a boy or a girl frog.

FactNo. 3 Frogs have ears just behind theireyes. Boy frogs’ ears are as big as their eyes. Girl frogs’ ears are smallerthan their eyes. It could be that girl frogs got fed up of listening to thoseamorous fellers with their extremely loud croaking calls and evolved smallerears... or it could just be one of those strange facts of nature.

Frogs are so cute... as long as I don’t have to pickthem up!

You are invited to a Tea Party

2011-08-14T18:09:00.003+01:00

Location: The bottom of this blog post

Time: Now

Dress Code: Something flowery

What a lovely idea to have a blog award celebratingfriendship. The Liebster Award has been given to me by my blogger friend RebeccaBradley at Life in Clarity. Do pop along and visit her [but not until you’ve joinedme in our tea party, of course.]

I don’t understand loners. I’m best as part of a group [evenif I am a bit bossy]. Friends are the most important part of my life. When Isay ‘friends’ I mean members of the family too. My best friends are my amazing kids, my long-suffering husband and my lovely sister.

And when I say ‘friends’ I don’t mean all those people onFacebook. I mean the ones who turn up when you’re in trouble, who phone whenthings are going wrong, who offer to do something... anything and who genuinelywant to make you feel better.

Some of the people I’ve met through this blog have becomefriends and I know that quite a lot of my friends read this blog. I also know thatyou know how awful this last year has been. Last August Rod was seriouslyill in hospital, last September my darling dog Josh died, in December Mumcollapsed and this April Mum died. I’ve needed my friends more than I ever havedone before. So, to say thank you for being there, I’m throwing a Jvirtual tea partyJ

Friends who read blogs have no idea how exciting it isto get a new follower. It’s not the same as making a new friend but it showsthat there’s someone out there who I’ve connected with and that’s important. So do please follow my blog before partaking of cake and a cuppa and then you might like to go and visit some of my blog friends, because I must now pass on the Liebster Award to six bloggers who, in the spirit of Rebecca’s wishes, have less than 250 followers.

So I award the Liebster Blog Award to:

Kathy McKendry at Imagine Today

Pauline Barclay at Scribbles

Amy Sonnichsen at The Green Bathtub

Julie Kemp Pick at Empty Nest Insider

Miriam Drori at An’ de walls came tumblin’ down

Damyanti at Writing on Writing: Amlokiblogs

And now...

It's party time!!!

Do have a cup of tea.

Sugar or sweeteners?

Or are you sweet enough?

*giggles at polite joke*

Help yourself to cake.

Anyone fancy jelly and ice cream?

Isn't the weather fabulous. We're lucky the rain's held off for our party. Are you going on holiday this year? Top up of tea? Thank you so much for coming along. I love parties...

Do you remember old-fashioned TV sets?

2011-08-09T17:52:00.001+01:00

Dad was an electronic fanatic and so we had all the latest gadgetsin our house long before they became commonplace. I can’t remember ever nothaving a television, although TV viewing in those days was very different totoday. In the 1950s:

The BBC was the one and only station. The picturewas in black and white and the screen was tiny.

Daily transmissions didn’t start until 5 pm but you had toturn the TV set on a good five minutes beforehand to let it ‘warm up’.

The Epilogue ended the day’s transmissions with a religious talk and then the picture disappeared in on itselfleaving just a white dot in the middle of the screen that lasted long after youpulled out the plug.

Dad was always adjusting either the horizontal or the verticalline hold and sometimes both. The picture would scroll up and over the screen orit would skid round sideways.

There were often gaps in-between the programmes. It wasn’tas slick and professional as it is today. Whenever there was a bit of sparetime they would have an Intermission. One of these was The Potter’s Wheel.

Our whole family would sit down together to watch programmes like Dixon ofDock Green. I saw an extract from an old episode not so long ago and it was painfullynaive. We were so unsophisticated and easily pleased in those days.

How far back does your TV memory go?

Planet Jupiter - some questions

2011-08-05T15:28:00.001+01:00

Today Nasa is sending a rocket to Jupiter. Juno will do aquick circuit of Mars, back for a once around Earth to give it an extra boost,and then away. Amazing! Mind blowing!

It’s an impressive rocket by anyone’s standards. Once it’son its way, all its power will come from the Sun and it’ll be travelling at160,000 mph. Incredible! Nigh-onunbelievable!

The down side is the cost... $1.1 billion!

Yesthat’s $1.1 billion!

So here are my questions:

1. Do we really needto know what lurks beneath the clouds that shroud this gassy, mysteriousplanet?

2. As a writer doesthis sort of exploration inspire your writing of other-planetary worlds or doesit detract from the mystery?

3. And is it just meor does $1.1 billion dollars sound like a lot of money to spend when there areso many financial problems in the world, so many people starving, so many communitiesstruggling to survive, so many charities desperate for donations, so much stillto be done here on Earth?

I felt I had to add a note here. This post has almost causeda domestic. Mr A has asked me to say that he thinks it is well worth everydollar as it’s furthering our knowledge of our world and the Universe. What doyou think?

The inspiration for this blog was brought to you via Jenny Matlock's Alphabe-Thursday and the letter P.

Are you a violin or a big bass drum?

2011-08-01T12:25:00.001+01:00

I was listening to BBC Radio 2 the other morning. I always enjoytheir Thought for the Day and that morning it was given by Rabbi YY Rubinstein.He was talking about the terrible killings in Norway and expressed his regretthat the perpetrator was so full of hate for others. Rabbi YY went on to likenthe human race to an orchestra. It's made up of many different instruments whicheach create very different sounds and yet, when they all play together, they canharmonise so beautifully.

I love this analogy and it also works on a smaller scale...our community, our family and friends, even the characters in our writing.

A number of my friends are pianos. They’re happy to join inwith the others but they’re just as comfortable assuming a solo role.

I know a kettle drum. She rarely speaks, prefers to sit andlisten, but when she does say something, everyone takes notice and her wordsresonate.

I suspect that a lot of us, myself included, are second violins.As long as we’re not too tightly strung, we’ll harmonise with the rest of theorchestra and not stand out in a discordant way.

It’s sometimes quite the opposite with my writing. All mycharacters want to be a solo piano and, although I tend to throw in the odd glockenspiel,I wonder if I have enough second violins, enough support characters, to ensurethat my scenes are realistic.

If I could choose an instrument to be, I’d be asilver saxophone... mellow, sensual and commanding everyone’s attention... butthen even a violin can dream.

What instrument would you like to be?

Rabbi YY is a well-know Jewish speaker. You can read the transcripts of some of his talks here.

Misha's Guest

2011-07-29T16:25:00.002+01:00

I’m a guest over at Misha’s blog today. I’m talking about memories.Regulars to this blog will know that I’m a bit of a nostalgia obsessive. Haven’t I warnedyou all about it in my bio? But I’ve also made money through memory writing. It’s notall self-indulgence, so do please go on over to Misha’s blog and find out how.

Talking of nostalgia, I’ve looked back over some of my oldblog posts and, it’s true. I am somewhat obsessive.

Here I’ve talked about quirky old cars from when I was akid....

...and here and here I’ve posted up some old sepia photographsof my Grandma and Great Aunts.

...and... hmm... there are too many posts to list. Even postsabout other things seem to come back to the topic of memories, right down to myrecent blog post here about swinging in the back garden.

So what’s your favourite childhood memory?

Have you ever used a memory as a starting point for writing?

And have you been over to Misha’s blog yet? ;-)

Good news at last...

2011-07-26T15:34:00.000+01:00

... even if it does mean another change.

I’m always going on about how much I hate changes and it’strue. Even as I type this, Mr A is cutting down a wisteria. I fought for thatwisteria to live. It provides green leaves outside our bedroom window but Mr Awas adamant. The problem is that it hasn’t flowered for about ten years now and,as Mr A says, “What use is a wisteria that doesn’t flower?”

He’s got a new one to take its place but it’ll be yearsbefore it reaches those heights and now I’m going to have to look at bricksfrom my window instead of leaves... I hate changes.

But there’s one change soon to arrive in our house that Iwon’t hate at all. Mr A is getting his driving licence back!! After one and ahalf years of having to rely on me to drive him everywhere he’ll be regaininghis independence. All he’s waiting for is the licence to arrive in the post. It’salmost like a kid waiting for the postman on his birthday.

When his eye sight was first affected he was on a course ofchemotherapy, high dose steroids and Gabapentin. The specialists still aren’tsure if it was his condition or the treatment that caused the problem buteither way he couldn't see well enough to drive. I’ve always been a reluctantdistance driver and so we were both uncomfortable in our new roles as 'me thedriver' and 'him the passenger'.

For much of last year I drove no further than the hospitaland back because he was so ill, but over the last few months his health hasimproved and he’s been eager to travel once more. I’ve had no choice and in a way it’s done megood. My driving confidence has improved no end. I’ve driven to Manchester andback two weekends ago and down to London last weekend and I’m determined not tolose that confidence once he’s driving again...

...although there is something that I definitely will belosing, exclusive use of our car! But one look at the grin on his face makes itwell worth it... I think!

A Tiny History of Shoes

2011-07-22T15:16:00.002+01:00

I’ve been walking for well over fifty years now
It’s no wonder my feet are so sore.
Perhaps it's got something to do with my stance
Or it could be the shoes that I wore.

My first shoes were Clarks, always measured to fit
Then checked with an X-ray machine*.
In those days we none of us knew of the risks
And we all loved to look at the screen.

I moved on to stilettos with heels thin as darts
And I tottered and swayed down the street
With the weight of my body all pushed to my toes
But I never considered my feet.

Nowadays all my shoes are the sensible sort,
Flat soles not a high heel in sight.
But I don’t understand it. I’m being so good,
Yet my feet give me grief every night!

*Shoe Fitting Fluoroscopes using x-rays to check that our precious baby toes weren’t squashed were in most shoe shops in the 1950s. They started to be withdrawn in the 1960s but some were still in use as late as 1970... scary but true!

Have we run out of stories...

2011-07-19T14:56:00.001+01:00

...and does it matter?

Last night we went to see West Side Story at Leicester’sCurve Theatre, a modern and cavernous structure that I can’t quite decide if Ilike or not, but this post is not about the theatre, it’s about the show. Althoughit was an amateur production, it managed to pack the punch of that well-worn plot, two warring groups and two young lovers.

The story is as relevant today as it was when Shakespearewrote Romeo and Juliet in the 1590s and as relevant as when Jerome Robbinswrote West Side Story in 1957 and Mansoor Khan wrote the Bollywood version, Josh,in 2000. It’s such a powerful story that I believe it can stand any number ofretellings.

But is it true that there are no new stories left to tell? Shakespeare’sRomeo and Juliet was itself influenced by the Roman myth of Pyramus and Thisbe.Lord of the Rings has elements of Greek mythology in it and dare I suggest thatHarry Potter has elements of Lord of the Rings.

If we were to select a piece of literature, say from the 19^thcentury, and pair it down to the bare bones of the story, and then if we wereto rewrite that story placing it in today’s world, would it be denounced as plagiarismor welcomed as a fresh piece of writing?

And if you know the answer do please tell me... is there sucha thing as a completely new story?

That Special Thinking Place

2011-07-15T08:19:00.001+01:00

Do you have a special thinking place in your home, a place where you can ponder a difficult plot twist, work out a supper menu for guests or maybe chant a meditation mantra?

When I was a kid I used to escape to the end of our garden.It was only a small garden but through my little eyes it was a long way from ourhouse. I used to sit on our swing and lose myself in the movement of the sky.This is a much-cherished photo of that swing with mybig sister and me.

These days I have a few favourite places to sit in our house. A lot ofmy writing is done at the dining table. It’s a substantial piece of furniturewhich Mr A had made from old, oak floor joists. If we ever have to shiftit we’ll need an elephant and tackle.

For inspiration I sometimes sit halfway down the stairs. Thelanding window looks out over the tops of the fir trees. I love that view...even if it does make me feel a bit like Kermit’s nephew, [a TV Muppet Showreference!]

The best view of all is from our bedroom window. The sun setsbehind a row of poplar trees and some evenings the colours are so amazing I canhardly believe they’re real. This is my special place for a quiet thought, ahope, a prayer...

...and now I have a new favourite place which takes me rightback to my childhood... only in a more sedate fashion. We’ve bought a gardenswing-seat.

I thought it would be an ideal place to get on with someserious writing but there’s only one problem. This is the view...

Where’s your favourite place?

More Needles than a Hedgehog

2011-07-12T16:36:00.001+01:00

A nurse came to the house today to teach Rod how to injecthimself. It’s all to do with his low kidney function. He’s got to administer weekly jabs of EPO to boost his red blood cells. But that’s not all. Two weeks ago they gave him all his childhoodinjections at the hospital. At the same time they started him on a twice weeklycourse of B12 jabs... and I’m not even trying to count how many times they keeptaking samples of blood to ‘see how it’s all going’.

I decided to use a picture of a cute hedgehog here rather than a not-so-cute hypodermic needle.

This time last year he was preparing himself for a sevenweek hospital stay which was to include a ridiculously high dose ofchemotherapy, a stem cell transplant, four weeks in isolation and a period ofkidney failure. The doctors are pleased with the way his Amyloidosis hasresponded to this onslaught. The levels of nasties in his blood have reducedconsiderably but every time I look at him I have this picture in my mind of a man leakingwater...

My Chicken Soup Supper

2011-07-10T17:02:00.001+01:00

Once or twice recently I’ve mentioned a useful all-in-one-potchicken supper that I’ve created with the added advantage of having an almostauthentic, just-like-my-Great-Auntie-Lena-used-to-make chicken soup thefollowing day. A lot of you asked for the recipe and so I forced my friends tocome over and share this meal with us so that I, in turn, could share it withyou.

All you need are two carrots, a parsnip, two sticks of celery, aleek, an onion, two cloves of garlic, some potatoes (freshly dug from thegarden, I might add!) and some chicken pieces placed in a large, shallowcasserole dish.

Par-boil the potatoes, chop the vegetables and sprinkle it all over the chicken.

Add chicken stock, Telma stock cubes preferably, until it almost reaches the top of thedish. Cover with tin foiland cook for two hours. Check it every half hour, turning the vegetables andpotatoes so they don’t dry out. For the last half hour leave the tin foil offso it all goes lovely and brown.

Not quite cooked yet!

The dish can go straight onto the table... which Mr A prepared earlier.

And the proof of the ~~pudding~~ supper...

Is in the eating!

Important point: The gravy is not gravy. It’s chicken soup!

Put it in the fridge and don't worry that it turns into jelly. Heat it up next day and enjoy your chicken soup with lokshen (vermicelli) or knedlach (dumplings).

Who said cooking was difficult? J

I Love Lyrics

2011-07-07T17:40:00.002+01:00

This blog has been inspired by Jenny Matlock's blog and this week's Alphabe-Thursday which is the letter L for Lovely Lyrics and I do so love lyrics...

I believe that lyrics are even more powerful than poetry. Iknow three, maybe four poems by heart, but I know the words to hundreds and hundredsof songs and can produce them at a moment’s notice from that mysterious place that is the bottomdrawer of my brain.

There are some moving and thought-provoking lyrics out there including Bob Dylan's 'The times they are a-changing' and John Lennon's 'Imagine'. There are also plenty of dramatic ones, like Gloria Gaynor’s ‘I will survive’ (by Freddie Perren and Dino Fekaris) for those moments when arelationship has hurt you so much that you’re not quite sure if you actually willsurvive.

Hands up all those of you who have pointed aggressively towards thedoor as you’ve sung the lines:

“Go on now, GO!
Walk out the door.
Just turn around now.
Cause you’re not welcome anymore.”

Me too! *Hand waving in air and bottom half off chair.*

In my last life, when I was a primary school teacher, I oftenused songs as an introduction to a new topic. I’m talking about the days whenteachers were not throttled by the constraints of the National Curriculum, when, if a child brought in a birds nest that was no longer being used torear baby birds, we would abandon all our plans for the day and use it as ateaching aid... yes, with no prepared curriculum aims and objectives except to avoid catching bird fleas and lice.

I have precious memories of a term in the early 1990s spentwith my Year 3 and 4 class (ages 7 to 9). We used the words of Michael Jackson's ‘Heal the World’ as an introduction to our term’s topic. The work covered English, the environment, politics, geography, history, music,drama and personal development. We had a great time and I’d like to think thatmy class can remember it as clearly as I can. I wonder if today’s Year 3 and 4classes will remember their National Curriculum constrained lessons in 20 yearstime.

Michael Jackson’s words have since been marred by the revelationsabout his alleged relations with the children who surrounded him. There is also asadness that his plea to make the world a better place 'for you, and forme, and the entire human race’ has not been realised. Naive of me I know but Ireally thought our generation might be able to make a difference. There’s stilltime, but while I’m waiting at least I can sing about it...

‘There are people dying.
If you care enough for the living
Make a better place for you and for me.’

Which song lyrics do it for you?

Rock and Roll! At my Age!

2011-07-05T18:23:00.001+01:00

I’mjust about recovering from our nice, restful weekend away, but then I’ve onlygot myself to blame. We’ve been to the Warners Holiday Hotel near Harrogate andI dragged Rod along to one of their Rock and Roll classes. Warners is the sortof place where you have to join a class or two, get involved, or you haven’thad the full “Warners experience”. Theproblem is, I never think these things through. I mean, one and a half hours ofRock and Roll! At my age! I ask you!

Itnever looks that tiring when you watch the celebrities doing their routines on BBCTV’s Strictly Come Dancing. They don’t ever have to sprawl across a table gaspingand sipping water and I’ve never seen any of them having trouble walkingafterwards. But that’s them. This was me! And what a shock it was! Not only is the musicscarily fast, but the teacher wouldn’t let us get away with walking through theroutine. Oh no! She kept shouting out, ‘Remember to bounce!’...

...One and a halfhours of bouncing! At my age! I ask you!

Andso that’s why I’m only just recovering from our nice, restful weekend away. Infuture, if I want to have a dance I’ll stick to the hand jive. It’s so muchmore dignified.

Anyonewho can remember the Hand Jive first time around, the one with Johnny Otis,will have a bit of a nostalgia trip watching this You Tube clip. I don’t rememberit myself, of course... honest I don’t! But I dare say some of you will. *dives for cover asassorted blogger missiles whistle through the air*

Me, my dad and a Knickerbocker Glory

2011-06-30T15:44:00.003+01:00

I forget the year, nineteen-fifty-something

We went for a week to the sea

We stayed in a caravan, nothing too grand

Just enough for my Mum, Dad and me.

I forget the name of the ice cream parlour

I remember it opened at 10.

I remember that Dad took me there every day

Our treat, it was just me and him.

I forget what he ordered to have for himself

I’m guessing a strong cup a tea.

I remember exactly what I had each day

A Knickerbocker Glory that was bigger than me...

...Now I’m all grown up I realise that it wasn’t actuallybigger than me, but in nineteen-fifty-something it certainly felt as if it was...

...and the memory is even bigger and very precious.

This post was in response to Jenny Matlock’s Alphabe Thursday. Jenny issues all sorts of tasks for all her followers. This week’s task was toblog about something beginning with K. Knickerbocker, as you no doubt have noticed, has three Ks init and it’s a bit of a special memory for me right now.

For some perversereason, since Mum died in April, I’ve been thinking a lot about Dad, who diedin 1977. I’ve been thinking about the precious times we had together, just thetwo of us. It’s not only Knickerbocker Glory memories. In the school holidays Iused to go with him to buy jewellery for his market business. We went to Londonon the train, travelled to Hatton Garden on the tube and, when he’d bought allthe new stock, we went for a salt beef sandwich before heading home. Happydays.

I’m going to be taking part in A River of Stones duringJuly. It involves close observation, picking on one thing each day and writingdown exactly what I see. I’ll be tweeting them daily using the tag #aros. I'm also planning to post upmy favourites once a week so yet again, watch this space.

My words through an artist’s eyes

2011-06-28T15:05:00.002+01:00

I’m trying something new with my writing. I’m working withan illustrator. I suspect a couple of sharp-eyed followers will already have noticeda contradiction. Two posts ago I wrote of my dislike for change and now I’mabout to embrace it. But when it comes to writing, I’m always keen to exploredifferent styles and if I ever stop trying to improve my work then it’ll betime to hang up the keyboard.

Sue Hague

I have my writing group to thank for this idea, yet again. [They’relovely, are my writing group!] We all belong to a children’s book group whichmeets once a month to read and discuss children’s books... and to have lunch,of course! One of the members is an artist. Her name is Sue Hague and wheneverwe have a meeting at her house we are in awe of her artwork, especially the finelydetailed flower paintings. She is passionate about observing and recording all those tiny details in the world around us, the details that mostpeople don’t notice... the same details that I, as a writer, try to record with words, whereas Sue uses a mixture of acrylic, watercolourand soft pencil.

Last week Sue ran an art workshop for us writers. We’venever done anything like this as a group before. It was an amazingexperience if a little messy...

Our first task was to rub oil paint onto an acetate sheet and scratch a picture onto paper which had been placed over the top of the paint. My result was a little smudgy but the activity had been satisfying and absorbing in a compulsive sort of a way.

Alex Gutteridge (left), me in the middle and Debbie White who I suspect had prior art training!

Pippa Goodhart

We worked with materials that I never thought could go together... like a pen, some bleach and a sheet of soft coloured paper. The effect appears gradually. It’s another fascinating process. This isn’t my attempt. It’s Pippa's.

I didn’t produce anything that would hang on my walls but then that wasn't the aim of the morning. What I did comeaway with was a lot of inspiration, especially when it comes to looking at those finer detailsof life that are all around us... but there was more. I had a chat with Sue about the art ofillustrating and it was then that we planned our collaboration. I have a numberof children’s picture book manuscripts, words only, with written illustrationguidelines where relevant. I have a roughidea of what the pictures might look like but I was interested to see if Sue’sexpert input would add another dimension to my work.

As soon as I got home I emailed a manuscript to her. She came straight back to me with ideas that were already ‘running through herhead’. Changes began to happen, improvements began to emerge, as she suggestedsome fine tuning to my story line, things that I wouldn’t have thought about onmy own. She’s now working on some rough drafts and we’ll be meeting up verysoon to merge our ideas. We’re hoping to make a joint submission and althoughwe both know that it could well join my list of rejections, it’s been extremelyuseful to look at my words through an artist’s eyes... and who knows, it might evenbe accepted!

Cool cats on a hot day

2011-06-27T11:31:00.001+01:00

Charlie says: "What was Mabel doing in my conservatory?"

Charlie says: "You can't beat a cool doorstep on a hot day. Lovely!"

Charlie says. "Oh no! Mabel's back again!"

Summer has arrived in the UK! Hope you're all keeping cool.

What do you mean it’s as good as a rest?

2011-06-22T23:34:00.002+01:00

Changes are not restful. Changes make me tired. I don’t mean the dailythings, like changing the sheets. There’s nothing nicer than snuggling beneatha freshly laundered quilt cover… or changing the dish cloth and washing upsponge. Apparently there are so many different kinds of bacteria living in dishcloths that it’s impossible to count them all. We’re supposed to change themevery day and the same goes for underwear, but possibly for slightly differentreasons. I sometimes change our daily newspaper order, although I don’t knowwhy. They’re all as bad as each other and I have been known to try a differentbrand of toothpaste but only rarely. You see, the problem is that I don’t likechanges.

I know that we have to have changes. If the world never changed then therewould be no new inventions or discoveries, and that includes everything from antibioticsto astronauts, but given a choice I’d rather not. This could be the reason whyI’ve lived in Leicester all my life. I can’t imagine what it would be like tolive in a completely new location. I even have trouble when they change thelayout of our local supermarket. I suspect they do it to increase sales but itjust makes me irritable.

Sometimes we decide to change things round in the kitchen but this isnever good for me. It throws me into a tizzy. I spend weeks reaching for plateswhere we now keep mugs or cereal bowls where the teapot now lives. It’s thesame in the garden. Alan Titmarsh can dig up shrubs and replace them with differentvarieties all he likes. I prefer the garden to look exactly as it did last year…and the year before… and the year before that.

You may have noticed by now that I’ve recently faced a pretty majorchange. I’ve changed my blog template. I have to admit to being thrown into a clammypanic when I did it. You see, I didn’t intend to change it. I was trying to getrid of the embedded comments box and replace it with the pop-up variety. Itshould have been a simple case of ticking a button but the button hasdisappeared. A kind fellow blogger suggested it might reappear if I updated myblog template. It didn’t reappear but it is the reason why you’re now lookingat this freshly designed page. I suppose I’ll get used to it soon. It’s just abit of a… change.

What changes make you hopping mad? Or do you revel in variety?

Cute and Tagged all in one week

2011-06-19T16:42:00.002+01:00

A Seriously Cute Blogger

Yes, it would seem that I’ve had my cover blown. Under this serious, stern, assiduous exterior I am cute.

It must be true because the lovely Pauline Barclay said so. All I have to do is to list out 5 books/films/TV prgrammes I've read/watched in the last 12 months so:

1. FILM: I’m not a film fanatic but I have recently seen Casablanca again. I love that film. “Here’sh looking at ya, kid.”

2. BOOK: Wuthering Heights for my book group. I fell in love with it as a teenager but we all agreed that read through mature eyes it’s a brutal book rather than a love story.

3. BOOK: The Hating Game by blogger friend, Talli Roland, was a great read and a good laugh. Looking forward to the next one, Talli.

4. TV: Have I got news for you. I just love the banter between Paul Merton and Ian Hislop.

5. TV: Strictly Come Dancing. Isn't it time for the next series yet?!

And here's my award, 'Aaah, cute!'

Tagged: And now Jemi Fraser has tagged me with 7 questions sohere goes:

Are you hot?

Yes, I’m roasting*waves face with hand*... no, I’m frozen *grabs jumper*... yes, I’m on fire *clutchesburning cheeks*... [How long do I have to put up with these sweats!?]

Upload a picture or wall paper you are using at the moment.

Delphiniums fromthe garden.

Mum used to read me the poem about geraniums red and delphiniumsblue. I talked with her about it the day before she died and told her that theflowers would always remind me of her.

They’re beautiful.

When was the last time you ate chicken meat?

Last Friday night.I’ve devised this great way of cooking chicken, potatoes and root vegetables ina large shallow dish in the oven. Hardly any washing up and it gives us chickensoup for starters too. Delicious.

Songs you listened to recently?

Loving You byMinnie Ripperton on my car CD.

Summertime by CleoLaine to remind me of the Strictly Gershwin programme we went to see at theRoyal Albert Hall last Thursday. Fabulous.

What were you thinking as you were doing this?

The Royal Albert Hall.It was my first ever visit and entering the auditorium brought tears to myeyes.

Do you have nicknames?

Dad used to call meRosie. Rod calls me Petal. There’s a theme emerging.

Tag eight Blogger friends.
In keepingwith my recent blog about childhood games, this tagging business has made me think about thegame of tic tic in the playground. Quite often I’d be one of those kids runningaway from no one. I’d not even get ticked if I stood still. I’d try to pretendit didn’t matter but it did.

It’s lovely to betagged but it’s hard to choose those who I want to tag because I’d like to tagyou all.

If you’re a regular visitor here then I may have recently sent you anaward or maybe I don’t know you’re a regular.

[Do please leave acomment. Just ‘hi’ would be great and then I’ll know you’ve popped by.]

Ormaybe you’ve just been tagged in which case I’m going to give you a choice...

So I’m goingto pass either Jemi’s tag with its 7 questions or Pauline’sSeriously Cute Blogger with its 5 books/programmes [you choose] to:

Nutshell at The Writing Nut

Amy at The Green Bathtub

Julie at Empty Nest Insider

Robyn at Life by Chocolate

Mary at Giggles and Guns

Bob at Bob’s Home for Writing

K. C. Woolf at The Woman Condition

Canyon Girl at Desert Canyon Living

Ann at Ann Best’s Blog

Christine at And so the story goes...

Ann at Writing in Jerusalem

Barbara at From my Kitchen Table

Sepia Memories 2 – The Private Dressmakers

2011-06-15T08:49:00.055+01:00

I’m still working my way around to writing a tribute to mymum. I’ll write it soon but in the meantime I’ve been looking through thephotograph albums again and doing a lot of thinking.

This is my Grandma Bessie. [They don't make cardboard mounts like that any more!]

And this is Grandma and Mum.

Grandma and her siblings arrived in London as refugees. Theyhad been forced to leave their tiny shtetl [town] near Riga, Latvia. It wasaround the time of the pogroms when the Tsar was ordering entire Jewishcommunities to leave their homes. I don’t know the exact date, most likely the early1900s. I can only guess at their ages... ranging from about 10 to20 years old.

Arriving in the Port of London must have been confusing,alienating, terrifying, coming as they did from a totally different culture andenvironment. They spoke only Yiddish and although they went on to learn Englishthey always struggled to read and write the language.

I recently blogged about one of Grandma’s sisters, Great Auntie Lena. This is Grandma (on the right) with Great Auntie Lena.

This is another of her sisters, Great Auntie Alice, whose talent for creating fabulous fashionable clothes was the driving force behind the dressmaking business.

Once they had settled, they sent for my Great Grandma andGreat Grandad. Some of the siblings went on to South Africa but Grandma stayed in the East End of London and, with no formal education, she and Great AuntieAlice set up a private dressmaking business. The business must have thrivedbecause it survived their Second World War evacuation to Leicester and this iswhere my memory of them kicks in...

By now three elderly sisters were living together in asmall terraced house. The workshop was in the front room and they lived in theback. Grandma Bessie and Great Auntie Alice cut, measured, tacked and treadledin the workshop while Great Auntie Lena cooked and kept house.

I loved that workshop. It was my playground. I’d pick uppins with a large magnet while Grandma and Great Auntie Alice sang. The only thing I can remember them singing is, ‘Let’s all godown the Strand, have a banana!’ over and over again and I loved it. Asthey sang they worked the trestles on their black Singer sewing machines.

In mymemory these were happy times. I wonder if they saw it in the same way. This is my tribute to them:

Tailors chalk, smooth and waxy,

Sketches out points across a sea of cloth.

Flashing shears slice swiftly, expertly

No pattern is needed

Just an inner vision

A feel for the fashion of the day.

Full beaded bodice

Edges piped

Buttons made to match^*

For the mother of the bride.

And for her daughter

A cloud of white satin,

Rolls of spiky lace to trim.

But first the cutting table is cleaned

The Singers wiped

Every smidgeon of machine oil removed…

And as for me,

I am banished to the scullery.

^*In the workshop was a button making machine.You placed two small metal circles and a cut out circle of fabric into the machine, pulled down a lever and – abracadabra – a fabricbutton emerged. I was repeatedly told, ‘those buttons cost a lot of money,’ butI couldn’t resist doing it again and again. It really was magic… but then isn’teverything magical when you’re a child?

Chwee... chwee... chwee... chwee...

2011-06-13T17:44:00.022+01:00

I’m trying to prepare a second sepia blog. I’ve selected photographsof my family in the 1920s and I’ve scanned them onto the computer but everytime I try to think about the words...

Chwee... chwee... chwee... chwee...

Daddy Chaffinch is at it again. He’s been chwee... chwee... chwee-ingall day, every day for almost a week now and it’s driving me crazy. I think itmust be his way of telling his babies that he’s just popped out for some nicejuicy insects and he’ll be back soon.

‘Aaah, sweet,’ I hear you say.

No! It’s not sweet. It’s aural torture. Please Chaffinchbabies, grow up and fly away... preferably this afternoon.

This is the second brood that Mummy and Daddy Chaffinch havebrought into the world this year. Their nursery is hidden in the depths of ourwisteria. The wisteria is up against our bedroom wall and yes, chaffinches getup early... very early indeed!

I was excited when The Chaffinch Family chose our garden fortheir nursery. I was feeling virtuous that our home-made compost (that writhingmass of brown which Mr A keeps spreading furiously across the garden) isproviding them with lots of fresh food. I’m also grateful that Mabel andCharlie were never educated in the ways of hunting cats.

So this should be a positive experience and it would havebeen if only Daddy Chaffinch hadn’t turned into such a repetitively rowdyfather. That bird is pushing us all to the limit. Even Mabel and Charliehave been doing a few of those silent I’m-coming-to-get-you meows today and ifthis goes on any longer I’ll be making I’m-coming-to-get-you noises too...

... It’s ok. I feel better now I’ve got that off my chest. I’mgoing to go back to writing my sepia blog now but don’t bother trying to talkto me because I’m wearing ear plugs.

Chwee... chwee... chwee... chwee... chwee... chwee... chwee... chwee... chwee... chwee...

I Feel Dizzy

2011-06-10T14:15:00.023+01:00

There are two reasons for this. The 1^st reason isboring and I’ll give it no more than 3 sentences...

1. Theanti-depressants that the doctor gave me just before Mum died did what they hadto do and got me through the horrible bits but they also kidnapped my brain.

2. Last week Idecided to get my brain back so I stopped taking the pills.

3. Yes, yes, I nowknow that you’re not supposed to come off pills just like that and that Ishould have cut them in half, taken them every other day and all that sort ofthing, but I didn’t and now it’s too late and I feel dizzy.

There! Let that be the end of the discussion! I shall moveswiftly on...

I loved all your comments this week about the skipping andball games and, what with that pill incident that we’re not supposed to bediscussing, I got to thinking about all those twizzling, twirling games weused to play.

I really did have an old fashioned spinning top and I loved toplay with it but I much preferred to spin myself. A favourite game was to crossarms, hold a friend’s hands tightly and spin round until we dropped. Then we’dlie on the ground and watch the sky slowly moving, vortex style. I don’t knowwhy we did it but I’m guessing that kids are still doing it and always will.

There were lots of gentler circle games that we played inthe playground. Did I say gentler? ‘The Farmer’s in his Den’ was anything butgentle. It was also just a tad middle-class and sexist now I come to thinkabout it. The farmer (always a boy) stood in the middle of the circle and therest of us would walk round holding hands and singing,

The farmer’s in his den
The farmer’s in his den
Eee, eye, addy, oh
The farmer’s in his den

Next he chose a wife (a girl of course) ...

Then the wife wanted a child (usually a girl) ...

And the child wanted a nurse (a girl again) ...

Finally the nurse wanted a dog. This could be either a girlor a boy but, for reasons that I never understood, I was often that dog. Thiswas not good because the final verse went...

We all pat the dog
We all pat the dog
Eee, eye, addy, oh
We all pat the dog

And ‘patting’ meant beating the back of the poor unfortunate‘dog’ until a teacher came to rescue her (me!)

As the years went on the games changed but still I had this needto make myself dizzy. My favourite fairground ride was The Waltzers. The ridespun one way and the seat spun the other. I’d ride it again and again. What wasI thinking of?

I put it all down to the recklessness of youth. Now please excuseme while I go and lie down in a darkened room... *sigh*

Games from my Childhood

2011-06-06T15:42:00.000+01:00

I'm taking part in Alex J. Cavanaugh’s Fun and Games Blogfest.

‘Blog about your three favourite games,’ said Alex.

‘Easy,’ I thought...

...but there are so many games to choose from that it’s almost impossible to select three.

Can Wii games be judged in the same category as board games?
Can a game of Spider Solitaire compete with a game of Pooh Sticks with the grandkids?

When I was a girl, games really were games. You could lose yourself for hours and hours without using a single battery or charger pack and so, in reverse order, my top 3 games are as follows:

In 3rd place is Snobs

(in other areas of the UK it was also known as Stones, Fives or Jacks)

I had five small cube shaped stones. They were made of china clay and each one was a different (and very pretty) pastel shade. The idea of the game was to throw them on the floor and throw one up in the air while picking them up one at a time, then two at a time, then three and one.

Finally we threw the handful up and tried to catch them all on the back of our hand. [I can’t quite remember why but I remember loving it.]

In 2nd place is Skipping

I had a small rope of my own (no fancy handles, just a piece of rope) and I’d skip for hours in the back yard but the best Skipping took place in the playground. There was always someone who had a very long rope and this very long rope was always being turned by two kids. The rest of us would stand in line, run under the rope skip and run out again.

I can only remember one skipping song:

‘Two fat sausages

Sizzling in the pan,

One went pop

And the other went bang.’

On the word bang we had to stop skipping and jump astride the rope.

You see what I mean. Life doesn't get any more exciting than that! Today's kids don't know what they're missing!

And now for the winning game

In 1st place and a clear winner is *roll of drums*

Double Ball

With two rubber balls and one brick wall I could spend a whole morning – a whole day – playing Double Ball. I’d chant endless rhymes (but I can’t remember a single one!) and I’d throw the balls under arm, over arm, bounce on the ground, clap my hands between catches, one ball up in the air and then back onto the wall. The combinations were endless and I’d pride myself on never dropping them. I could even have kept going right through dinner (except Mum didn’t let me).

[These days my favourite game is far less active. I’m totally addicted to Bridge. It’s the best thing I learned to do since Double Ball.]

Can anyone think of those songs we used to sing while we threw two balls up against a wall? I'm going crazy trying to remember them!

Tomorrow

2011-06-03T08:39:00.001+01:00

Just to confuse everyone, including myself, I wrote this yesterday when I was supposed to be planning my 'to do' list of jobs for today (which was, of course, tomorrow yesterday) and so I've called it Tomorrow.

Tomorrow I’ll finish the ironing.
Tomorrow I’ll change all the sheets.
Tomorrow I’ll vacuum the whole of the house
And get cat fur off all of the seats.

Tomorrow I’ll sort out the wardrobes.
Tomorrow I’ll tidy the drawers.
Tomorrow I might even bake us a cake
And some daintily iced petits-fours.

But today I will just put my feet up,
Have a bit of a rest and some tea,
Cause the thought of tomorrow’s work schedule
Is getting the better of me.

When I read this to Rod he said, ‘That’s you to a tea!’ I’m not sure quite what he means!

You'll never guess what happened on 30 May...

2011-05-30T12:40:00.000+01:00

So it’s the May Bank Holiday and I’m sitting up in bed sipping a mug of tea (made for me by my lovely Rod.)

I’ve got Charlie on my lap

(sitting on a silk scarf because I don’t like cat fur on the quilt)

and Mabel sitting under the dressing table

(because she doesn’t do laps).

BBC Radio 2 with Miranda Hart and Jon Holmes is making me laugh and then they run a feature on this day in history and...

“Yessss!” I say. Charlie opens one eye in a moderately disinterested way. “That’s what I’ll blog about today!”

And this is it... except that I’ve done a bit of research and discovered some different events so that the BBC can’t complain about me ‘stealing’ their script (assuming that the BBC even know I exist.)

Did you know that on 30^th May...

In 542 King Arthur died following a battle with Modred (assuming that either men actually existed!)

In 1431 Joan of Arc was burnt at the stake in the market place at Rouen, France. (She was only a young girl of 19. Humans can be so cruel.)

In 1536 Henry VIII married Jane Seymour. She had been the lady-in-waiting to Anne Boleyn who had been beheaded just 11 days earlier. (Like I say, humans are cruel.)

In 1821 James Boyd patented the rubber fire hose. (Not amazingly interesting but the only item from the Radio 2 programme that was verifiable!)

In 1842 John Francis tried to assassinate Queen Victoria. (How different the history of our monarchy would have been if he’d succeeded.)

In 1939 the Labour Party had their first General Election win. (In those days many people despised working class men and thought they wouldn’t be able to rule the country. Haven’t we moved on.... erm... have we moved on?)

In 1989 Cliff Richard released his 100^th single record called ‘The Best of Me’. (No, I’ve never heard of it either but you can see an ever-youthful Cliff singing it on the You Tube link below.)

And in 2011 in Leicester UK it poured with rain (which means that Rod’s vegetables are coming on a treat. The broad bean flowers are almost ready to turn into yummy pods. I may even blog about our first home-grown meal of the year.)

4 for Friday: a trip to London

2011-05-27T13:00:00.001+01:00

1. A London Hospital

Every six months Rod has to go to London for a two-day series of tests to check on his Amyloidosis. The specialists at the National Amyloidosis Centre were very pleased with his progress following last year’s stem cell transplant. We came away with grins on our faces.

The NAC is a specialist unit tucked round the back of the Royal Free Hospital, which incidentally featured on the National news when we returned home. The hospital had scored badly on its care of the frail elderly. Doctors are having to write out prescriptions for water so that elderly patients don’t die of dehydration. I’ve blogged about this problem here and here. I was featured in the local newspaper and I was interviewed for BBC TV News.

I know that I can't make a difference on my own but I'm about to throw myself back into this campaign. There are so many issues still to be addressed and, of course, I'll blog about it.

2. London Taxis

The cost of using the London Underground is now so expensive that we decided to go for a bit of comfort. There’s nothing quite like hailing a black cab and jumping in. I’m an excited kid again, being treated to a day out by my Dad.

Chatty London Taxi drivers took us from St Pancras Station to the Royal Free Hospital and back with no problems and the added advantage of being able to watch the tourists milling round Camden Market.

But at the end of the first day, when the hospital had finished with Rod until the next morning, we headed for the West End... and, oh my word, the traffic! Admittedly Barack Obama was in town and the Chelsea Flower Show was in full swing but even so! The taxi crawled. The meter ticked. When it clicked above £22 we paid up and walked the rest of the way... and a lovely walk it was too.

3. London's West End

Street upon street of shops selling all things Union Jack, (I’m choosing to ignore the occasional seedy sex joint,) permanently full eateries and swathes of tourists wandering the streets. I suspect that many of them had tickets for the theatre and were passing their time, just as we were, in the London sunshine.

We had a drink in a London pub and we ate spaghetti in a London Italian Restaurant. It's all so different from Leicester. Even the spaghetti had more taste... or was it the holiday mood that we'd adopted?

4. A London Show: The Jersey Boys

People had been urging me to go for ages.

“You’ll love it,” they said. “It’s just your sort of show.”

And they were right. The Jersey Boys, showing at The Prince of Edward Theatre, makes clever used of the Four Seasons’ hit songs to tell the story of their fame and infamy. I never knew about the New Jersey underworld, the debts and prison sentences. I just loved their songs. I still do. The show was brilliant and you can hear some of the music here.