Prepping

As I type this the overhead light burns into my eyes with the force of a thousand suns.  My head dances to the tune of a million jack hammers desperate to break through my cranium.  Pain lances down the front of my forehead terminating in my eye socket.  I am preparing for a big day.

On Monday I get the opportunity to pitch my novel to HarperCollins.  I still can't quite believe it and I'm hoping to come away with some excellent feedback at the very least.  And so to prepping.  I have been going over my answers to the questions I think they might ask me.  I have determined that my book has many levels and is bursting with storylines and interconnected themes making it fairly difficult to encapsulate into a few words but I'm getting there.  

I don't have the headache from prepping for the pitch, although I am excitedly nervous about it.  I have the head bursting agony from only drinking two cups of tea today and trying to use a printer. Honestly. . . . I reckon hell is an office where you teter from broken photocopiers to jammed paper trays and ink toners that have run out and not been reordered to the wrong colour/thickness/size of paper and no black pens left.  

First I ran out of ink.  Then I bought a colour cartridge by mistake. Then I couldn't find the right black ink cartridge.  Then it rained (while I was trying to carry a ream of paper back).  Then I still haven't had a god-damn cup of tea.  Then I had to share my ice cream.  Then I figured I probably ought to read the first three chapters to make sure they were actually worth submitting.  Then I did congratulate myself on a tiny bit of awesomeness.  Then I realised I printed out the first three chapters without my name in the header.  So now I have a spare copy.  I've just looked at the info bar on the bottom of the laptop and I'm almost out of battery.  And now Windows 10 wants to install.  

Deep breath.  

30-Day Writing Challenge - Day 30

Something you're excited for

I'm excited about Author Day on 30th November because I have a 10-minute slot to pitch my book to HarperCollins so I can't really think about anything else!!  It's thrilling and scary and hopeful a great opportunity to get some excellent feedback if nothing more.  In a wonderful world they'll love the novel and I'll be on my way but let's not get too excited.

I'm also excited for January and I know you shouldn't wish your life away but in January we will be looking for somewhere new to live - due to the fact that the council are knocking down our flats. Living in a new area I am hoping that I will be able to find a little job and start building my worth up more.  And of course there is the sequel bubbling away in the crevices of my mind.

I've enjoyed this writing challenge however those with the eagle eyes will know that I forgot to post yesterday - on the last day!  Can you believe that?  I think it would be interesting to try and find another challenge to keep stretching myself and  of course to keep blogging.  Somehow I don't think I'll run out of things to say.

30-day Writing Challenge - Day 29

How you spent your 21st birthday


Do you remember that previous post about earliest memory and how awful my memory actually is? Well..I can't remember what I did for my 21st birthday.  I can remember my 18th because I was in the jungles of Borneo with classmates on a World Challenge Expedition and they gave me a slice of watermelon with a candle in it and a locally made bracelet which I still have.  The bracelet, not the watermelon.

On my 21st birthday I would have been in Peterborough, I remember getting a postcard birthday poem from Repro so I know I was working at Pims national.  I wouldn't have gone out and got wasted because that's not my style so I don't have any amusing drunk stories - those are from my friends 18th and not repeatable here.

In a ideal world I would have gone out for a delicious italian meal with all my friends and family and laughed and laughed and made world peace.  Or something equally as awesome.

30-day Writing Challenge - Day 28

The word or phrase you use constantly

I like to think a have a good grasp of the english language and give most words their fair turn at being spoken.  I'd also love to have my very own catchphrase.  As far as I know I don't have one.

My husband and I have certain phrases that we use towards each other but I don't use them for anyone else.  I call my little boy a wide range of odd things like moo-ma and puff and poo-pa.  They don't have a particular meaning except to convey love and fondness.

I'm not a basically or an actually kinda person.  I don't say like all the time.  I may be accused of the over use of the word cool.  And possibly awesome.  But then I'm a sci-fi geek with fandoms so I have to use those words.  It would be interesting if there was a way to find out my most used word.  I hope it would be one of love and happiness and not a horrid nasty word.

I do try real hard not to swear, especially round small ears, so I have modified some swear words. Mother fudgebuckets is a favourite of mine and I do like son of a nutcracker but I don't think I use them constantly or at least I hope not.  It's probably cake you know or biscuit.  My little man picked those words up very quickly.  Oh, and cup of tea.  That is a well used phrase.  Conveys so much - oooh I'm a bit peckish so I'll have a cup of tea (and try not to eat anything)  - are you ok?  Do you want a cup of tea (sit here and tell me all about it) - long period of silence then, do you want a cup of tea? (filler for boredom) - out shopping, shall we have a sit down and a cup of tea (I only really came out for the cake so lets get to it).  That's the one.

30-day Writing Challenge - Day 27

What you wore today

Really?

*sigh*

My feet found themselves enclosed within a rather fetching black ensemble with green fringing and a black and green stripe across the toes making me think of a witches stocking.  A great find in that store of huge queues and paper bags, Primark.

Long ago I gave up on the dream of matching underwear, it's unachievable.  These days if the pants match the bra it's usually because I washed whites with darks too often and my underwear is about a 1000 years old.  It's a rather fetching shade of grey - you can't buy that.  Today however you can just about tell the difference and it's lighter on top then it is below.  A sensible M&S and Asda amalgamation.

Jeans.  I hate jeans.  They're just so.... ugh.  If you're not of the drain pipe leg persuasion then a decent pair of jeans is hard to find.  If you browse the racks of high street shops apparently everyone has skinny leg.  I don't have skinny legs.  I'm hipular and rounded with powerful thighs and a definite pear shape.  And that's when I am at my lightest.  When I'm yoyoing up I'm more of a blobette with boobs but we won't go into that.  I own one pair of jeans.  They are....blue!  And currently ripped at the bottom on both legs because they were slightly too long when I bought them.  When I purchased them from Dotty Ps I went for a larger size then I am because I was expecting some happy growth however as that wasn't to be I ended up doing my own misery growth so I guess it worked out in the end.  But don't make me run.  If I run in them they fall down.  They don't fit round the waist so I spend all day hoiking them up and they spend all day falling back down to my hips making them too long in the crotchal area which is just annoying and uncomfortable.

My delightful floral top is blue and white and grey with three quarter sleeves and a v-neck with buttons.  It flares at the bottom slightly with two slits either side of the hips so my jelly belly is nicely covered.  The v accentuates the bust.  When a good rack is all you have then accentuate accentuate accentuate.  Top is from H&M which I have to say is excellent.  I have bought many many things from them ranging from floor length dresses to hareem trousers to maternity stuff and tops of all colours and styles.  I like that they stuff their shops with so much merchandise it takes you seven trips before you realise you have actually seen everything in there and seeing as I avoid clothes shopping like the plague there is always something new.

What did you wear today?

30-day Writing Challenge - Day 26

Things you'd say to an ex


I actually keep in touch with a few of my ex's in the sense that we are facebook friends and send each other Happy Birthdays with the occasional thumbs up for an extremely awesome post.  I think the problem with talking about  your ex is that time warps the thoughts and feelings that you had into fuzzyness.  At the end of the day you spent a chunk of your life with that person so it can't have been all bad and if you managed to come to the end amicably it means you both took what you needed from the relationship and were both ready to move on.

I'd like to say to most of my ex's - thank you for putting up with me and count yourselves lucky you don't have to put up with the old woman version as I seem to be getting worse with ripening.  Thank you for listening, for giving me your advice, for calming me down and keeping me going.  For being my strength at a time when I had none and for helping me to believe in myself when I never thought I could.

30-day Writing Challenge - Day 25

Four weird habits

1.  The correct way to eat a Mr Kiplings Fruit Pie (or Custard Tart or Mince Pie - or indeed any small pie with a lid [although I do realise custard tarts don't have lids]) is to nibble your way around the fringe, lever up and scoff the lid then lick the insides out and finally eat the empty pastry shell.  This is usually done in the privacy of my own home. Other people seem to think it pushes the boundaries of polite public behaviour.

2.  When I'm driving and the music is blaring, I have to turn it down to see better.

3.  I compulsively eat polos crunching them one after the other after the other but I won't eat the sugar free ones because they, according to urban myth, have a laxative-like side effect.

Wow - this is actually really hard.  Obviously I don't think that anything I do is weird so trying to think of 4 that I am prepared to share with the rest of you is quite tricksy.  My husband was no help at all, he said that my OCD was weird and pointless and it's my life which I took to mean my entire existence was pointless so there was a moment.  Once we cleared that up and I asked for an example he told me he thought it was idiotic I kept certain towels in certain places for certain reasons.  I merely responded with at least you always know where your towel is, something that I'm sure a lot of us would be extremely grateful for.

4.  Ok fine.  I have OCD in some odd parts of the house but struggle to actually do any cleaning.

*grumble grumble grumble*

30-day Writing Challenge - Day 24

Something you miss

I miss my car.  I actually miss an awful lots of things but if I talk about all of them I shall probably dissolve into a puddle on the laptop which wouldn't be very good for either of us.

My car was a black Vauxhall Astra 1.8 Sport which had been owned by a boy racer and was geared low so it had great poke.  It was delightful to drive and I was distraught when I had to sell it.

I really miss having a car because of the freedom it gave you to shop wherever you wanted to shop, to just get in it and go somewhere, to pop in for a cuppa whenever you wanted to.  I could just drive over to my Mums whenever I liked and I really, really miss that.  I even miss washing it - I always felt it deserved to be washed by hand and not taken through a car wash.

I don't really like driving these days.  In fact I will do almost anything to avoid it but back then I loved going for a drive.  I had my car CD's and my travel sweets and a funky yummy smelling car freshner.  I knew how to check my oil, my tyres and my water - I even knew how to change my spare. If I still had my car I'd be driving all the time.

I had my one and only car accident in this car.  I skidded round a corner on black ice and flew into a ditch but I didn't panic and I drove into the skid and we made it in one piece.  I've been hailed on, obviously rained on, snowed on and aquaplaned in this car.  I've driven short little skits and several long hour journeys in this car.  I especially enjoyed driving the windy hill roads of Wales.  I raced motorbikes in this car, done over a 100 mph and used to follow the straight racing lines across the large roundabouts on the parkway where I used to live.

I really really miss my car.

30-day Writing Challenge - Day-23

A family member you dislike

Now I know this is a writing challenge but ...... let's look at the definition of dislike - feel distaste for or hostility towards.

Honestly I do not feel distaste or hostility towards any of my family members.  That may be because I barely know most of them so everything is kept extremely civil.  I always think I have a fairly small family but then when you sit down and work it out, it's actually a lot of people.

Mum - Step Dad - Step Sister + partner & 2 kids - Step Sister + partner - Half Sister
Nan
Aunt - Uncle - Cousin + partner
Great Aunt + partner - 2nd Cousin + partner & 2 kids - 2nd Cousin and unknown quantities
Great Aunt + partner - 2nd Cousin + partner & 2 kids x2 - 2nd Cousin
Dad + partner
Uncle
Step Mum + partner - Half Sister + partner - Half Brother + partner - Half Brother

I ring my Mum everyday.  Yes, I am one of those people.  Because I ring my Mum everyday I usually speak to my Step-Dad daily as well.  We have a healthy relationship.  That means if I do something they think is idiotic they'll tell me, I'll pout and then we'll all have a good laugh about it later.

My little half sister and I stalk each other on Facebook.  This is because we have similar fandoms and don't want to miss out on any epicness that the other may find on the web.  My step-sisters and I see each other about once a year.  It's comforting, we check everyone is still the same, we hug, we may imbibe and then we carry on with our separate lives confident in the knowledge that the other is there if we need them.  I don't talk to my Nan as much as I ought to.  I dislike myself for that.

You are only supposed to speak to Great-Aunts, Uncles and various forms of cousin at family events such as Births, Deaths and Weddings.  It's like the unspoken family law or something.  There is no additional requirement to speak to or engage in any way shape or form.  We have gone above and beyond said criteria and are attached via the book of face.  This helps us keep tabs on each other and instills healthy keeping up with the Joneses.  Not really - I feel quite sure we have the same apathetic reaction to each other.  And that's not a negative.  It's just normal family relations.

Flip over to my father's side.  My half sister lives in Norway and we've recently started Skyping once a month.  It's good.  We actually have things to talk about because we leave it a month between each session and as we've been siblings for a quarter of a century we don't stumble over forced politeness. My baby brother and I facebook when we need to, my older baby brother is far too busy for such old fashioned social media and as I don't snapchat we don't chat however we all meet up at least two times a year and now that older younger is practically settled down I feel sure we will be meeting up with bouncing bonny babies in tow in the not too distant future.

It's all good.  I feel if I knew my more extended family better (not parentals or siblings) I would have to start making decisions about whether I agreed with them or wanted to hang out on a regular basis. I have my friends for that kind of thing.  Plus if you ever do fall out with a family member it ripples through the rest and lines are drawn - let's just all continue to nod and smile, nod and smile, nod and smile.

30-day Writing Challenge - Day 22

Your morning routine

My morning usually begins in the early hours when a small person comes pitter patter down the hallway and bangs the bedroom door open.  He stands next to me and puts a little cold hand on my arm.  I sweep him into bed whilst trying to check the mobile to see what the time is.  If it's before 5am, which it undoubtedly is, a brief cuddle ensues as the wee monster usually falls asleep instantly. He is then scooped with love and deposited back in his own bed.  If it happens to be after 5am, which is usually the second early morning visit, he is swept in and snuggled until I physically cannot restrain him any longer and he gets up.  This is usually between 6-7am.  We once slept in until 7.38. It was amazing.

I lay in a semi-doze fugue listening to the various crashes and bashes from the front room and send silent apologies to our downstairs neighbours.  Although it's not my fault they have their bedrooms where we have our front room.  Eventually (actually time frame is a couple of minutes but it feels like an age) I heave myself out of bed and stumble to the toilet.  Then I clatter back into the bedroom and unplug my phone, ipad and grab my latest book.  You can never have too many wishful thoughts. These are deposited in the kitchen with gate carefully closed while I clatter back into the bedroom and retrieve nappy, wipe and bum cream.  The items cannot be left within arms reach of the child. Ever.

After bum changing and inevitably getting dressed at stupid o'clock due to a leaky nappy, I ask the very important question.  'What would you like?'  Current favourite is Mickey Mouse Club House DVD but we have cycled through three Peppa Pigs and an Upsy Daisy one.  Once the incredibly loud and psychedelic DVD is playing the kettle goes on.  At this point I may weep quietly in the kitchen depending on how tired I feel.  Sometimes I get to drink my cup of tea.  Sometimes.

We then move on to the demands of bisfest.  This can either run very smoothly or be a sleep deprived nightmare, depends on the previous night.  It can be very difficult to accurately pour cereal and milk if you can't actually remember what the function of your limbs are.  Bisfest is eaten in high spirits whilst I continue to nurse the cup of tea.  Sometimes I get to drink my cup of tea.  Sometimes.

After bisfest we have CBeebies and in theory this is the optimum time of day for me to work out.  This can either run very smoothly or be a sleep deprived nightmare, depends on the previous night.  It can be very difficult to find any kind of motivation when you can't actually be bothered to breathe.  Once the workout has either been successfully knocked out of the park or sheepishly swept under the rug it is time to decide whether to run the shower gauntlet.  If I take too long the entire front room could be swallowed by lego, everything not meant to be touched moved and a small person standing on the dining room table looking rather pleased with himself.  If I make too much of the fact that I am trying to have a shower then small person will try to join in which results in the horrific wet skin shower curtain duel to the death and a soaking wet right arm of small child.

I do eventually manage to get washed and dressed.  Occasionally I remember to brush my teeth and apply lipstick - usually in the wrong order.  Next up is Mummy's bisfest.  This can either run very smooethly or be a sleep deprived nightmare, depends on the previous night.  It can be very difficult to decide what to have for breakfast when your brain has ceased to function.  A small person will demand their fair share of whatever is eventually decided upon, especially if it something they wouldn't eat themselves.  That's usually when they'll take more than half.  Sometimes I get to drink my cup of tea.  Sometimes.

30-day Writing Challenge - Day 21

Your zodiac sign and whether it suits you

I am a proud Leo.  On the cusp to be sure but a lion through and through.  A fire sign, so mercurial and bossy with temper flare.  You know when you get on the wrong side, it might be slow to boil but you know.  Once I blow, that's it - over and done with, move on.  Fiercely protective of close friends and family until you abuse my belief in you and then there is no going back.  Need constant reassurance of my awesomeness but in return I'm there for you whenever you need me.  Get me on the right day and I'll be the life and soul of the party, get me on the wrong day and you'll wish you never knew me.  Takes time to recharge but loves being the centre of attention for the right reasons. Often feels desperately lonely and self doubts but soon swings into manic overload of all things wonderful.

Ok - that's my personal take on the sign.  Let's see what the powers that be have to say about it.

A Leo is confident, generous and loyal but also melodramatic, stubborn and vain.  Leo's are independent but they need to be in control of something and require someone to appreciate them. They prefer not to be alone.  Leo's can lift your spirits and encourage you when times are tough. A Leo is the ultimate friend.  Leo's love the new and despite dull, regular routines so they can stir up situations just for something to do.  Leo's have an amazing capacity to bounce back from any feelings of despair or unfortunate events and they do not like being unhappy.  Leos will not budge their opinion, they will accept the opinions of others but they do not appreciate those who try to impose their beliefs.  If you step on the boundaries of their kingdom they may seem like a demanding, spoilt child but they are only  being territorial.  Leos are extremely sensitive but hide it well.  They are usually full of pride.  Leos need to be needed.  Leos are very generous, kind and openhearted people. If a Leo is crossed, they will strike back with force but they are not one to hold a grudge, they easily forgive, forget and move on.   The lion symbol suits them well.  They posses a kingdom which they protect and cherish.

Sounds about right to me.

30-day Writing Challenge - Day 20

Put your music player on shuffle and write the first three songs that play and what your initial thoughts are:


Song One - Beauty and the Beast by Angela Lansbury


Song Two - Born to Make you Happy by Britney Spears


Song Three - Teenage Dirtbag by Wheetus


Initial thoughts - ha!  I love it actually.  Some romance, some 90s pop and a bit of alternative rock, who could ask for more?  I adore the songs from Beauty and the Beast, I think I've listened to them more times then I've watched the film and I'm delighted there's a bit of Disney in there.  Child of the eighties means I'm a teenager of the nineties so a bit of Britney actually reflects my life, plus it's not a terrible Spears number.  I could've done much worse.  Then there's that high pitched whine which takes me right back. Teenage Dirtbag is one of those songs that people tend to love or hate and many music aficionados think it's possibly one of the worst songs ever but I think it's awesome.   Chuffed to mint balls with my random selection.  Good job itunes.

30-day Writing Challenge - Day 19

Five Fears

1.  It's a normal day like any other.  Husband is at work, me and the kid are hanging out doing play doh or lego.  Just chilling out, thinking about going to the park and seeing the ducks or maybe sneaking to the supermarket for some yummies when the doorbell goes.  Little man gets super excited and I wonder who it can be.  I buzz them through and open the door.  Two police officers walk up the stairs with solemn looks on their face.  There's been an incident.  Injured in the line of duty.  Died at the scene.  Words words words but nothing going in.  The whole world crashing down around, white noise buzzing and a little voice saying 'Hello Mum-ma' as I fall to my knees in disbelief.



2.  They should've been back by now.  Looks at phone again.  No messages.  I know they went out to give me a bit of time off.  A chance to catch up on Downton Abbey.  But now I feel guilty and it's getting dark and they should've been back by now and maybe I should ring them.  Don't be silly.  Go do some hoovering or something.  It's nearly dinner time.  Starts to prep the dinner.  They really should be home by now.  Finally!  The door opens.  It's just the husband.  Where's the baby?  Where's my little boy?  What the hell has happened?  Official looking people follow through the door.  I'm frantic but they're holding me back.  Where is he?  He was snatched.  At the park.  I have to do something.  I can't even look at him.  They've got my baby.  I will end them.



3. If I ever fall pregnant again.  Those first 12 weeks.  That excitement when you realise you're late and then you do the test and it's positive and you spend hours and hours and hours whispering to each other about it because you don't want anyone to know.  And then you tell the parentals and they get excited and then it becomes even more excited because it's 6 weeks now and you've seen the Nurse and the appointment for the 12-week scan has come through the post.  It's just an exciting waiting game now before you see them.  But.. something just doesn't feel quite right.  It's not the same as before.  But you keep quiet because you don't want to jinx it.  11 weeks and then it happens.  At first you try to pretend there's nothing there.  Its just spotting.  But you know.  You just know.  And then the pain. The gut wrenching agony both physically and mentally as you sit in A&E and no-one seems to care.  No-one does anything.  They just stare at you, bent double, tears streaming down your face. 1 in 4, very common, try again, off you go.  Two days later and .... we chose to bury.  I can't do that again.



4.  The dark.  Not only that darkness at night that hides the monsters and witches and fiends out to get you but also that darkness within.  That ability to be mean, to do bad things, to think nasty thoughts. Knowing that some people give in to that darkness, seeing examples of human atrocities on the news every day and realising that everyone is capable of that and much much worse.  The darkness of being alone and having no-one to love you.  The darkness of being misunderstood and having no-one to talk to.  The darkness of fear induced nightmares after reading deliciously dark and evil literature. The darkness of an overactive imagination in a creaky house with flickering lights and cold spots.



5.  Death.  I'd like to say I'll great him like an old friend in many many years time but I cannot know that for sure.  I have no guarantee that he will be Pratchett-esque, that he even exists at all.  What frightens me most is ending and having no idea it happened.  When we fall asleep we have no memory of doing so.  We know we go to bed, we know we wake up in the morning but we don't know the moment of sleep nor are we aware of being asleep.  It is said that dying is like sleeping. We exist and then nothing.  Gone.  To blackness.  To being unaware.  To the void.  How can we not be frightened of that.

30-day Writing Challenge - Day 18

Favourite colour and why

BLUE!!

I love blue.  At age 18 all my clothes were blue - it was pointed out to me that it was a bit odd.  Right now I am typing in a blue top and blue jeans.  Blue rocks.  My husband and my baby boy's eyes are both blue.  The boys bedroom is painted B&Q's electric blue and looks bluetabulous.

Five pound notes are the happiest looking of the paper money.  That's the blue.  Cold people look more attractive than hot ones.  All in the blue.  Blue biro looks better than black.  Blue can be as slimming as black but doesn't make you look like you're dead.  There's a reason why the blue rinse is so popular.  

There are 52 shades of blue ranging from dark to bright to light.  Blue represents dignity, intelligence, strength, coolness, peace and serenity.  It is nature's colour for water and sky - two of the Earth's elements.  53% of the world's flags contain the colour blue.  The whole world wears blue jeans.  

Blue is also used for feeling of sadness but strangely this a relatively new concept as 'to feel blue' has no equivalent in any other language bar English.  Best of all blue has few connections to taste or smell which explains why blue slushies are just plain wrong and that blue could act as an appetite suppressor.  So not only is it the world's number one favourite colour, it will also make you lose weight.  Bluetastic.

30-day Writing Challenge - Day 17

A quote you try to live by


I remember the first time I heard Sir Terry Pratchett speak.  As he took to the stage he belted out 'Never Give Up!'   The entire crowd, bar me, roared back 'Never Surrender!'  It wasn't the first time I have felt ridiculously out of my depth and yes I had seen the film before that day.  I just hadn't clung onto the catchphrase.

There are many good ones.  I particularly like the one used in an episode of Buffy - 'Carpe Diem' 'Fish of the Day?'  The dialogue goes on but the point I'm trying to make is that living by a quote seems like a bit of a odd thing to do.  I have morals and scruples and probably a few loose marbles rolling around the place.  I try not to be a bad person and usually feel extremely guilty when my temper gets the better of me.

I do believe that you give what you get and considering I've been rather miserable and grumpy lately, the rest of my year doesn't look too sparkly.  Karma is a bitch and what comes around, goes around. But are of all these just your subconscious trying to feel better?  If the universe really was trying to balance everything out then why do we have over 250 news channels telling us about the latest atrocities to befell our fellow man, usual committed by his neighbour.

I shall leave you with an extract from the Wiccan Rede - a rather comforting collection of words:

An ye harm none, do what ye will.

What ye send forth comes back to thee,

so ever mind the rule of Three.

Follow this with mind and heart,

Merry ye meet and merry ye part.

30-day Writing Challenge - Day 16

Bullet your day

• 4am-ish and the darling boy comes in for a cuddle
• Comfort is given and child replaced in bed
• Dammit - toilet
• 6am-ish baby crying
• 6.30-ish little man visit
• Endure being punched and kicked 'accidentally'
• Feel child clamber over limbs and leave
• Hear the pitter patter of little feet up and down the hallway
• Hear the crash of toys
• Hear the plinky plonky piano
• Finally get up at 7
• Cup of Tea
• Finish watching Fantasia
• Clear notifications on phone
• Demands for bisfest
• Call Mother
• CBeebies on TV followed by couple of pages of CBeebies magazine & colouring
• Baby wipe table after all extra colouring
• 9ish husband surfaces
• Cup of Tea
• My own breakfast - eaten stood up in the kitchen, away from small person eyes
• Ironing
• Intense panic stations every time little man comes anywhere near ironing board onn account of Inspector Gadget arms
• Husband leaves, claims work
• Get dressed and actually remember to clean everyone's teeth
• Sit on cold laminate floor and play stackers - 3 times
• Play shapes - 3 times
• Small person demands bug bug
• Look at the rain
• Go to supermarket in the rain
• Walk round supermarket talking to toddler and ignoring strange looks from other shoppers
• Walk home in the rain
• Transport shopping, child and buggy up one flight of stairs in three trips
• Change of clothes for damp mother and after observation lower clothes change for bottom damp toddler
• Amidst pleas for bisfest, put away shopping
• Lunch
• Cup of Tea
• Storytime in the big chair, lots of giggling at the word Grendel
• Cup of Tea
• Attempt to watch an episode of Bake Off 
• Small child on one knee playing on ipad
• Notepad on other knee in an effort to re-write book synopsis
• Cup of Tea
• Remembers housework and washes dishes
• Small person plays with farm animals on kitchen floor
• Join in
• Make many farmyard animal noises
• Notices fridge is leaking on the floor again
• Has a timeout to start making a note of what doing today for bullet point blog writing later
• Still raining
• Feels guilty for lack of activity 
• 10 minutes of madness 
• playing catch and kick with ball
• dancing
• playing scary roaring game
• Put sticker on Change4Life 10min movement chart
• Demands for window - watch cars
• Snack time for small person who begs for banana but is persuaded to apple
• Cup of Tea
• Put Dumbo on
• play with Legos
• sing row rows
• play with farmyard animals
• read stories
• remove nail varnish
• play Soda Crush
• 3.30pmish an extremely tired small person crawls onto knee
• Multiple nursery rhymes are sung lustily
• Requests for Peppa
• The pig reigns supreme
• Remembers housework and attempts to tidy up a little
• Banking
• Social Visit!  Another grown up and their darling little girl
• Cup of Tea
• Heart wrenching pleas/sobs for bisfest/dinner
• Reheat leftovers
• Thank the gods for leftovers
• Dinner
• Biggest, longest story book bought over with huge smiles
• Biggest, longest story book read
• Half-way through realise nappy is leaking
• Continue reading
• Remembers housework, does dishes
• Rings Mother about leaky fridge
• Jabs drain hole at back of fridge (inside) with knitting needle - water disappears
• Silently thanks the gods for fridge not being dead
• Rings husband in fridge relief
• Discusses cake
• Remembers housework and puts washing on
• Remembers little person and runs bath
• Light in boys room stops working
• All bedtime paraphernalia set up in my room
• Little man splashed into bath
• Wash rack emptied, folded and put away
• Risk life and limb stepping into bathroom to wash child
• Remove child from bathroom much damper than before
• Attempt to dry toddler doing his best impression of Tigger
• Remember furniture barricade hasn't been set up
• Quickly create barricade
• Thanks the gods for CBeebies bedtime hour
• Light in front room dies
• Creative use of lamp
• Tidies bathroom
• Tidies my bedroom
• Checks light in boys room - working
• Tidies boys room and gets bed ready
• Goes to tidy kitchen, realise it's already done
• Feels smug
• Puts away all the toys
• Gives in to biscuit demands
• Cup of Tea
• Contemplates the evening ahead and writes blog before run out of steam

Hopes for the evening:

• Husband will arrive home from work on time
• Dr Who will be watched
• Cake
• Cups of Tea
• Will remember to empty the washing machine and rack it before bedtime
• Time to stitch
• Time to read
• Attempt to fall into bed before midnight

30-day Writing Challenge - Day 15

Three Pet Peeves

I'm not sure I can contain myself to only three but I will do my best, I don't want to come across as a grumpy curmudgeon.

One - Chuggers and their counterparts that don't work for charities.  I understand the importance of charities and the great work they achieve, I realise that in order to complete that work they require donations and I applaud the philanthropist attitude of mankind that enjoys donating to worthy causes. However, I do not appreciate being chugged repeatedly every time I leave my house.  There is a small shopping centre in my town which houses a pound shop, seventeen different mobile phone shops, ethnic barbers, multiple handbag and shoe shops, a wig shop and one or two other oddities.  It is quite possible to get stopped up to four times as you enter the shopping centre by a variety of different chuggers.  Usually ridiculously bubbly individuals with catchy little pick up lines and manic grins made of coffee and high sugar levels.  They survive on Tangfastics.

"Looking good there super mum - can I just have a minute of your time?"

"You have a beautiful smile.  Come and have a chat with me about <INSERT CHARITY>"

"Good morning Madam, do you know what your credit score is?"

"Whose your broadband provider?"

"Lyca mobile! Lyca mobile!"

To all I smile politely and shake my head as all attempts at appearing as unobtrusive as possible never work.  Then when I have finished my journey into the bowels of mediocrity, I turn and am bombarded by the same people AGAIN.  Who have all apparently forgotten that five minutes ago I said no.  I maintain my calm exterior and refuse to give in to my inner self who wants to retort angrily.  Possibly with some level of violence.

I do not wish to be spoken to by a stranger in the middle of the street.  I certainly don't want to indulge in any kind of personal small talk about my appearance, child or type of shopping bags I'm carrying.  I want to enjoy walking in peace.  If you ask me again I may be forced to kneecap you. Thankfully our landline doesn't work so we aren't bothered with cold callers.  Junk mail is easily binned and the least offensive intruder.  But don't get me started on the door knockers.  Politeness only stretches so far.


Two - People who ask you a question but don't really care about the answer and either don't listen or talk over you.  If you don't want to talk then don't speak.  I am quite content to sit in comfortable or uncomfortable silence.  I own a brain and an extensive imagination, plus I usually have a book about my person and so forced human conversation is not necessary.

This is why I often choose not to contribute at social gatherings.  Sadly I have lost count of the number of times I have answered a question and realised that no-one is listening so I just trail off into nothingness.  Either I am an incredibly boring individual - a possibility - or the other person is so far up their arse that they can't hear anything else.  There may be some kind of middle ground.  So until I find out whether you are actually interested in what I have to say I won't say anything.  Potentially there is a flaw in that plan but at least it means everyone thinks I am the quiet one and I get to go home early.


Three - When you are sat in a chair reading and someone comes up to you and says 'What you doing?'.  Seriously?   Are you that stupid?  I used to answer with some incredible sarcastic response which would result in extensive hurt feelings so now I tend to just ignore the question completely. Usually they go away.  After all I can't stand on my head and whistle God Save The Queen while you are bothering me with silly questions can I?

Oh, and this.

 

 

 

30-day Writing Challenge - Day 14

Your life in 7 years

The year is 2022.  Flying cars still haven't been invented and the cost of living has skyrocketed. Fortunately I am now a best selling author, finally able to contribute something to the table and we are able to live rather than scrape by each month.

We were made homeless in 2016, bouncing around from shabby rental to bedsit nightmare before a distant relative no-one ever knew of left us a house in their will.  After several years of living in rented rooms and grotty flats I finally had a house with a garden.  All my dreams came true, we bought a dog and called him Nicodemus.

Having self-published and promoted my book in 2016 it finally broke through mainstream consciousness and was picked up by Orion.  There was an instant cult following.  I wrote a screenplay based on the book which was picked up by New Line and made into a film.  Miles Teller played the male lead.  Thankfully I had believed in myself and already written a sequel which was considered, for once, as good as the original.  I took my toddler on a book tour and became the darling of dystopian literature.

Now that I had literary credit I was able to push the TV script for [TOP SECRET CONCEPT] which was picked up and became an instant hit thanks to the huge phalanx of Firefly fans who thought it was the best thing since Serenity flew.  I was invited to write for Dr Who and Supernatural, finally making that trip across the pond.  American readers were slightly confused by my englishisms and so I became an instant hit based on the idea that if no-one could understand it, it must be good.  I was invited on the Jimmy Fallon show and our skit went down in YouTube fame.

During 2018, we found out I was pregnant again and to celebrate we took a family cruise to Norway to see melting icebergs, northern lights and confused whales.  Inspired by our Norwegian experience we named the baby Gerd.  Husband was promoted and we finally bought a car however exorbitant oil prices in the middle east meant there was a chronic fuel shortage so it became a rather grand lawn ornament.

2019 was quiet as I juggled a husband, two children, a dog and a three-book deal.  The first of those books came out in 2020.  I could now consider myself to have achieved my dream as a writer.  Our little family lived in blissful happiness until disaster struck in 2021.  I don't know what kind of disaster as I don't like to dwell on such things but the good times can't roll forever so something bad has to happen - right?

Either that or the goddamn zombie apocalypse happened.  Luckily they can still read so all writers were corralled into safety zones to continue to churn out zombie-lit as fast as we could.  If your book wasn't liked then family members were eaten.  There was a sharpening of literary output.  E L James didn't make it.  

Look - the future changed in the 6 paragraphs since the opener - who knows what my life will be in 7 years time?  How exciting.