Holiday Reading

It's been a while since my last post I know and I did promise a post the next day, slaps own wrist, but life sometimes has a habit of getting in the way, especially now. Ever since I got back from holiday I don't seem to have stopped running either at home or at work and I'm desperately trying to carve out writing time on top of all that.

The holiday seems like a long time ago but it was a much needed break and helped me get my head round the news that my current job will be ending at the end of the next academic year. Now I'm trying to look on the positive - a year is more than most people have in job expectancy and it could be the era of change for the best. So I want to spend the next year saving as much money as I can, writing as much as I can and trying to find some freelance options, writing or otherwise, so that I can organise my life a bit better around childcare. You never know it might be a much needed opportunity to kick start a new career (fingers crossed).

I digress, what I was going to blog about was reading. One of the things I look forward to in a beach holiday is all that lovely reading time. Picking the books I'm going to take with me probably takes me longer than packing my clothes, because its a difficult choice from my ever increasing tbr pile.

Now, I'm going to tell you a little bit about my choice of books and if the technology works this will be complete with pictures. If not I may be asking for advice. So here goes.

The first book I read was Barbara Taylor-Bradford's Being Elizabeth.

I grew up reading The Woman of Substance series and dreamed of being as successful as Elizabeth Harte, so I’ve always had a soft spot for this author.

This book was a present for Christmas so has been on my TBR pile for a while now. The story is about Elizabeth Turner, a young woman who inherits a dynasty from the Deravenal family and is one of a series.

Barbara Taylor-Bradford paints the settings with her usual carefully detailed brushstrokes, and I enjoyed reading about the lifestyle of the rich, however, I was largely disappointed by this book. I must admit I didn’t really like the main character very much. Everyone else in the book revered her, thought she was brilliant business woman and was deserving of her success but I felt that this was down to both her inheritance and the people around her rather than from anything she had succeeded for herself and as such I found her character unconvincing.

I did, though, read the author’s note at the back of the book and was intrigued to find that the author had based the story on the life of Elizabeth I but had set it in the present day. I’m a big fan of Tudor history so I enjoyed seeing how she had replicated history in modern times and this was probably the biggest incentive for me to keep reading.

Next time, I'll tell you about some of my other reading.

Have a good weekend everyone.

I'm Back

Hello to anyone out there, I'm back from my hols. Well actually I've been back for nearly a week now but it seems like a lifetime and lying by the pool with the sun beating down on me is but a distant memory. But at least I got there.

The week before we went was a bit traumatic to say the least what with little one breaking his arm on the Saturday. I apologise for my outpouring on Saturday night but despite my attempt at being up beat it did deal me with a bit of a blow initially.

But I pulled myself together and decided that the best way to deal with the situation was to look at the possitive - he was OK.

I knew we wouldn't find out from the hospital until the day before we were due to fly whether they would let him so I carried on as though we were going and started the mamoth packing job.

And the stripping the bathroom out job. Oh yes, we had decided to have our bathroom revamped while we were away so that had to be prepared, bathroom suite ordered, tiles ordered and chosen, so in addition to packing we were rushing around town trying to sort that out too.

And then on Thursday our tiler snapped his achilles and it was all off! Incidentally, this was also a football injury - how I cursed football. But seriously, I do feel sorry for him because it will take ages to heal and to anyone who is self-employed knows just how damagng that can be.

I must admit I did begin to get spooked again - what's going to happen next? But on Friday, despite an horrendous wait at the hospital all was well. The fracture wasn't as bad as last time and we were fit to go. The problem with broken limbs is that they can swell up during the flight. So what they do is cut the cast part way through so it is still secure but in case of an emergency someone can pull the cast off and stop the circulation from being cut off (or have to prepare for an emergency landing!)

And then all I had to do was finish doing everything and then pile us all on the plane an exhausted wreck.

I'll tell you more tommorrow

Life is What Happens When You’re Busy Making Other Plans

Nineteen months ago my husband and I were idly watching tele with a glass of wine late one Friday night when we received a phone call. We were told that my husband’s best friend, who lived in Ireland, had died very suddenly, on a football pitch as he was training his youth team. He was fit, he was healthy, he was the life and soul of the party. He was forty seven and suddenly he was no more.

We were devastated.

My husband had known his friend since the first day at high school. They had shared everything. And despite the fact that they lived quite far apart he was closer to my husband than some of his own relatives.

In Ireland funerals are supposed to happen within 48 hours, so plans were quickly made to travel and my parents stepped into the breach to look after our children. The funeral itself was the was most emotionally traumatic experience I have ever encountered. And then during the wake I phoned home to check on the kids, only to find out that my youngest son (4 years old) had been playing football at school and had broken his arm.

My baby was out there, in pain, needing me and I wasn’t there. The only thing I wanted to do was to get on a plane and get back to him. But I couldn’t. My only consolation was that he was with my parents - if me or my husband couldn’t be with him then as far as I was concerned they were the next best thing.

Those were a bleak few days and to be honest I almost became afraid to get out of bed because I was wondering what was going to happen next - they say things come in threes.

We were due to go on holiday to Egypt a few weeks later. Then we were told that the break to his arm wasn’t a clean one and he would need a full plaster cast which would prevent him from flying.

We cancelled the holiday.

We never got to Egypt but in retrospect, we were both grieving and I’m not sure we could have coped with being together with two children twenty four seven for a week so perhaps it was for the best.

We’ve been on holiday since and had a great time, so we were really looking forward to the holiday we’ve booked for 12 days starting next Saturday.

Today the boys went to a friend’s party at his house. Two hours after I’d dropped them off I got a phonecall - my youngest had hurt his arm playing football. Deja vue! The hospital confirmed that he has broken his arm - the other one this time. Not as bad as the last but I won’t find out until the day before we go whether or not he is fit to fly. Thank God he is OK that’s the main thing but the phrase “Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans” keeps running through my mind. I think it’s a lyric from a John Lennon song, but today as far as I’m concerned its particularly resonant.

I'm trying to be positive. - worse things happen at sea and all that, but it's stirred up alot of questions and painful memories.

Take care everyone out there and be safe - you never know what's going to happen next.

Five Years and when life gets in the way

Don’t you just hate in when real life gets in the way of doing the things you really want to do? That’s what my life has been like recently. My head is so busy trying to remember the things I’m supposed to be doing that I can’t seem to clear enough space in it to write about anything in fact.

So thank you to the lovely Jayne from A Novice Novelist who tagged me with five years and who has given me something to blog about. I don’t think my answers are very original but they may strike a cord with all of you jugglers out there.

Where were you five years ago?

1. In the same house and in the same job

2. Looking after a one year old and a three year old and spending most of my wages on childcare

3. Watching Thomas the Tank Engine and Bob the Builder (so some things have improved – actually I quite liked the Thomas stories, I’ve got a thing about model railways – quite keen on miniature everything in fact – always wanted a proper doll’s house too).

4. Trying to write short stories and my first ever novel (now in a draw where it deservedly belongs to be) in my spare time which was limited.

5. Falling into bed each day exhausted with the thought of facing another day on the hamster wheel.


Where would you like to be five years from now?

1. I would like to work from home making my living from writing. Not asking for mega fame and fortune, just enough for me to be able to get by.

2. I would like to have sorted out my work/life balance a bit better and have more time to myself to do what I want to do and not the constant round of tidying and cleaning up after other people.

3. I would like to have visited more of the places of interest and historic houses in Cheshire which I keep meaning to go and visit.

4. I would like to have a revamped my garden so it’s a nice place to sit and read or write on sunny days.

5. I would still like to be with my husband and have a good relationship with my kids who will then be approaching dreading teanagedom.

What is on your to do list today?

1. Work

2. Having son’s friend round to play and for tea

3. Exercise – going on holiday in two weeks and need desperately to get rid of the flabby bits (Ha ha dream on! Will probably end up covering them up.)

4. Gardening - garden is a shambles – especially at the front and feel like we are The Clampitts compared to our neighbours who all have immaculately clipped lawns and hedges. (Kind of hoping it will rain which will give me a good excuse not to do it.)

5. Watching Midsummer Murders – I do like a bit of cosy crime

Oops left out writing – will have to squeeze that in somewhere in between – as ever

What five snacks do you enjoy?

1. Crisps

2. Cheese – Grommit

3. Chocolate brownies

4. Flapjacks – especially sticky gooey ones.

5. White chocolate chip cookies – extra large from Sainsburys.


What would you do if you were a billionaire?

1. Give some away to local charities – somewhere where I can see that it has made a difference to people’s lives rather than filtered into the pockets of institutions less deserving.

2. Put some in trust for my kids but not hand it to them on a plate

3. Share it around the rest of the family and friends but not so that I’m seen as a soft touch and only good because of the money.

4. Buy a large ramshackle house by the sea and do it up and buy another house aboard in the sun to escape to.

5. Get a housekeeper and gardener so I don’t have to do the chores anymore!

So there you have it my five years. I’m not going to tag anyone but if anyone wants to take up the mantle please feel free – and let me know so that I can read your answers.

Now I’m off to my to do list. Going to have a relaxing weekend with the family this weekend a) because I’ve earned it after the week I’ve had so far this week and b) because its my birthday on Saturday– and if you can’t lounge around on you birthday when can you?

St George's Day - To Celebrate or Not?

So do you think we should celebrate our Saint’s day? Personally I think we should. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that I named my youngest son George, so now we always make an occasion of it, but on reflection I think why not? Why are we Englishers afraid of celebrating our history? Or perhaps we are just apathetic? I’m not sure, but with my husband’s family having Irish roots I’ve certainly learnt how you can celebrate something if you want to put your mind to it.
So how did we celebrate St George’s day - or should I say weekend?
We live not far from Beeston Castle- a medieval ruin which stands 500ft above the Cheshire plain. On a normal day it’s a great place to g - once you’ve puffed your way to the top - the views are out of this world.
This weekend my two little knights jousted all the way to the top where we then enjoyed a picnic. It was a beautiful sunny day but all that way up it was a little windy so after we’d eaten our fill and the boys had explored the ruins, we made our way back down to the bottom where we enjoyed the real entertainment.
A re-enactment group was in full force - brightly coloured tents were sent up and the wood fires were burning - they should have been roasting a hog - and it was just like something out of Merlin.
A juggler was entertaining the crowds - and boy was he funny, whilst entertaining the youngsters, he also threw in enough double entendres to keep the adults chuckling away. This was followed by an re-enactment of St George slaying the dragon and then a jousting tournament with the clashing of swords and the clanking of full armour. With the sun beating down on us it was really an afternoon to remember and afterwards the boys even got to try out the helmets for size and feel the weight of the swords - I don’t think they’ll forget that in a hurry.
Then on Sunday my eldest took part in the St George’s day parade with cubs. We all met at Chester Castle - not quite as impressive as the views from Beeston but just as steeped in history - and then the boys, and girls, marched through the city centre to the sound of the brass band. Do you what? Its great when the police actually stop the traffic for you and a brass band is always rather stirring.
But whilst we were following the parade a thought struck me. We’re really good at the pomp and ceremony, so why don’t wee do it more often?
In my opinion when we try we’re pretty good at blowing our own trumpet when we make the effort, so why don’t we do it more often? Celebrating what’s good about being English isn’t something we should be afraid of. And it shouldn’t mean that we don’t embrace other races or religions either. Just that this country does have a history and we should be proud of what is good about it.

What do you think?

Shirley Valentine and Times Gone By

The other night as I was idly flicking through the television channels I came across the film Shirley Valentine. No matter how many times I’ve watched the flim, it always comes across as fresh as the first time I watched it and is just as poignant.

The film was at the hilarious point where Shirley meets her old school friend (Joanna Lumley). Shirley admits that she thought her friend was an air hostess and Joanna comes back as says, “Good Lord no, I’m a hooker.” or words to that affect.

The bit that really got to me though is when Shirley is on the bus going home, and is remembering how she used to be when she was a girl, full of hopes and dreams for the future.

I think that bit really got to me because I had a similar experience recently. At the end of March I celebrated my 10th wedding anniversary. Ten years – where did they go then?

We decided to celebrate by going away for a weekend without the children which we have done so rarely in the last ten years. (I was pregnant with our first son on our first anniversary, so technically we haven’t yet had an anniversary on our own).

We looked at various different options but settled on a weekend in London. On the Friday morning we travelled down on the train, stayed at a really nice hotel close to Tower Bridge (with swimming pool and spar), had a champagne flight on the London Eye and went to see Phantom of the Opera at the theatre. All in all a wonderful and memorable occasion.

I enjoy going to visit London because for nine years I used to live there. I’ve always had a fascination for our capital city and decided to go to polytechnic in north London when I was 18. I didn’t come back to the north west until I was 27. I lived in a variety of places and had so many experiences there that I can barely remember them all. But sitting on the tube and exploring places where I used to go or live brought a lot of them back to me. On the Saturday we got the tube to Richmond where I used to live and work and then followed the river all the way round to Chiswick; also a place I have lived in.

It was really weird, as though those things had happened to a different person in another lifetime and I found it really hard to reconcile the person I am now to the person I was then.

I’m not saying that I’m unhappy with my life or how things have turned out just that the years have flown by so quickly. In my head I’m still in my early twenties and sometimes it comes as a bit of a shock to realise that I’m actually in my early forties (despite the continual reminders from my boys).

I also began to think about all the time I wasted when I was down there, when I should have been out and about and making the most of the attractions of such a wonderful city and its made me more determined to make the most of what I have here, especially now the sun has started to shine.

Have you had any profound or thought provoking experiences recently?

Aiming High

Hello to anyone out there.

I've been away from blogland for a while, mainly due to juggling Easter school holidays with work. I really wish that I had a term time only job, but then again at the moment I'm one of the lucky few who does have a job so I shouldn't really complain. But I'm back now and will try to be a bit more of a consistent blogger!

One of the questions which niggles me as an unpublished writer is: "Am I any good?" followed closely by: "Will I ever be any good?" and its those kind of questions which can drag you down and mean that you don't write anything at all. A self fulfilling prophecy is ever there was one!

But this Easter I was taught a lesson in self-belief from my 6 year old son.

He was telling me that he was sad because it was Good Friday and it was the day that Jesus died. My eldest son is about to take his first communion next month and little fella is taking a keen interest in everything his older brother is learning. He's actually one of the few children I know who enjoys going to church (I don't suppose it will last). So with his current interest at a high I casually asked if he wanted to be a priest when he grew up to which he promptly answered "no". I then asked him what he did want to be expecting the usual answer of a footballer or a chef.

So I was completely floored when his answer was "I want to be God". Now if that isn't aiming for the top I don't know what is.

So there you have it. If my six year old can aim to be God then becoming a published writer should be a piece of cake. Shouldn't it?

Perhaps if we all reach for the stars we may at least end up a little bit nearer to the sky.

Take care everyone out there and aim high. You know you want to.

Linda