I’m not big on reflecting back on the year about to end etc, etc. I do however capture a lot of my life in photographs and hold the memories close to my heart. I have thousands of photos from 2016 so here are the severely edited highlights (one per month)
and then there were some of the gigs I enjoyed……
Lots of happy memories there.
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged #2016, #amblogging, #art, #blogging, #photoblog, memories, photography
Ever have a day where all the stars align and everything falls into place? They’re rare, I know, but recently I experienced one of them.
Six months ago, I’d bought a ticket to a rock show and made the decision to set out on a solo adventure.
Those six months disappeared in the blink of an eye and, on the last Saturday in November, I found myself sitting at Glasgow Airport with a coffee and a cinnamon whirl, waiting for my flight to East Midlands Airport.
I was heading to Nottingham for the weekend. No, I wasn’t in search of Robin Hood or the sheriff. I was going to see Alter Bridge headline a show at the Motorpoint Arena.
Those who know me, know how much those guys mean to me, especially the front man, Myles Kennedy.
Those of you who are going “Alter who?”, Alter Bridge are a rock band from the USA, fronted by Myles Kennedy. (Look then up on You Tube!)
The flight from Glasgow to East Midlands was a hop skip and a jump on a rather small propeller plane..eek!!
An hour after leaving Glasgow I was sitting in the café at East Midlands Airport with a coffee and a panini for lunch, waiting for my American friend, Miss Janette, to arrive from Amsterdam. (Her devotion to Myles and all things RnFnR makes the rest of us look like rank amateurs!)
Bang on time, her flight arrived and we were soon in a taxi, chatting at a million miles an hour as we sped towards the city. (I hadn’t seen her for two years so we had a lot of catching up to cram in!)
The whole day almost came to a spectacular halt a short while later. Having checked in to my Travel Lodge home for the night, we set off on foot in search of the rest of the “AB Family” who were lunching at Annie’s Burger Shack.
Round the corner from the hotel we found a Kitty Café!!!
Both of us have Crazy Cat Lady tendencies and it took a lot of will power to drag ourselves past the Kitty Café and to resist the temptation of kitty cuddles!
Without too much bother we found Annie’s. (Gotta love Google maps!) Cue lots of hugs and hellos as we caught up with some of the members of our “AB Family.” It was a little surreal being face to face with friends I’d only seen on Facebook up until now. It really was an international family gathering!
Apart from a love of Alter Bridge, we all had one more thing in common. We were all doing the “Meet & Greet/VIP Package” before the show.
The city’s Motorpoint Arena was only a short walk from the restaurant and, by three o’clock, the AB Family gathering had expanded considerably. Some of these people have been following this tour, The Last Hero Tour, all over the UK and Scandinavia, having already followed it through the USA. I really felt like an AB lightweight but each and every one of them made me feel so welcome and a part of it all.
I’ll not bore you with a blow by blow account of the Meet & Greet but the whole experience was amazing! Even standing in the centre of that huge almost empty arena was a breath-taking experience. I can’t begin to imagine what it is like to stand on that stage and perform in front of a sell-out crowd!
The Meet & Greet package allows you entry to part of the band’s sound check before you are whisked back out of the arena to briefly meet the band, when they will happily sign stuff for you. (“One item each” we were told. “And don’t talk to Myles. He’s on vocal rest.” I had three. I chanced my luck and got two signed. Huge thanks to Miss Janette for getting the third item, my CD insert, personalised and autographed.) The next part was a photo opportunity with the band. There’s no denying that it is all a bit of a conveyor belt that involves a lot of standing in line. There wasn’t much time to speak to the band other than to say hello and exchange a few precious words, including a few with Myles to wish him an early “Happy Birthday.”
The final part of the deal is that you get priority entry to the venue for the show.
By five fifteen I was standing on the rail beside my new friend, Miss Monica and Miss Janette. Cue one of the best evenings of my life. The show was incredible! (You can read all about it on my sister blog, The525to Glasgow https://the525toglasgow.wordpress.com/2016/12/01/alter-bridge-at-the-motorpoint-arena-nottingham-261116 )
It was eleven o’clock before the last notes faded away and the lights went up.
The tired smiles on everyone’s faces said it all! The mad dash up the arena to the loo was hilarious. Six hours in one spot is a LONG time!
In the foyer of the arena and outside there were small pockets of AB family chatting and posing for photos with one another and with one of the support bands, Like A Storm.
A few minutes later we gathered again as an AB Family in the bar next to the arena. We’d picked up a few extra family members along the way. Tired and weary, and in my case starving (that panini at the airport almost 12 hours earlier had long since worn off), we sat and chatted, reliving the musical adventure we had just shared. We posed for “family” photos. We took photos for each other with various family members then the bar called “last orders”. It was time to head back to the hotel and bed.
There were hugs and kisses. There were some goodbyes. There were some arrangements made to meet up again in a few days in Glasgow when the tour reached the SSE Hydro.
A lovely member of the AB Family walked me most of the way back to my hotel. (Thanks, Marin)
Once safely back in my room, sleep refused to come. I lay snuggled under the duvet smiling to myself in the dark.
It really had been a surreal perfect day. It brought it home to me the combined power of social media and a common interest (rock music). Without those, none of it would have happened. Without the online interaction, I’d never have met these people. I’d have missed the opportunity to make new friendships.
Memories were created that will last a lifetime.
Oh and by the way, I found Robin Hood next morning. (It would have been rude not to while in Nottingham) He too happily posed for a photo!
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged #AlterBridge, #amblogging, #blogging, #MondayBlogs, #MylesKennedy, family, rockmusic
Confession – I have the intended blog post for this week half written but I paused…
The past week has been busy, busy. There’s been incredible highs and one or two lows.
It’s been surreal so it’s time to pause, breathe and reflect.
Normal service will resume once repairs are complete 🙂
image sourced via Google
All around her was the buzz of conversation. In her mind, there was the constant murmur of unspoken thoughts.
Silently, she sipped her coffee and continued to gaze out of the window at the river view outside. The local ferry was passing the cafe, it’s bow wave disturbing the calm water.
Entering a crowded café was always a challenge to her sensitive soul. Venturing out from her cottage into town was a weekly endurance event.
Voices everywhere!
The constant babble almost drove her insane.
As she took a bite of her scone, she tried to block out the cacophony of conversation.
“I can hear you listening,” came a clear male voice in her mind.
She dropped the scone back onto the plate. Eyes wide, she scanned the café, searching for the face that went with the voice.
“I can see you searching for me.”
A chill ran down her spine and she began to tremble.
For over twenty years she had gone to great lengths to hide her enhanced listening abilities. Coping with it as a child had been torture. Being a teenager had been even worse. School and college had been like a prison sentence to her. As soon as she had graduated, she had sought out a job that allowed her to work from home, saved up for the mortgage deposit then bought her secluded cottage and retired from the world around her as much as was possible.
She’d heard millions of unspoken conversations over the years. Inadvertently eavesdropped on innermost thoughts. Every unspoken word ringing in her mind as clearly as if they’d been spoken out loud beside her.
Never had someone spoken to her in her own mind before.
She felt instantly violated.
“You appear to have dropped your scone.”
“Who are you?” she asked silently. “Where are you?”
Silence.
Carefully she filtered through the dozens of conversations going on around her. Breaking all of her own unwritten rules, she searched the thoughts of the customers in the café in an effort to find “him”.
None of the voices matched.
Her senses picked up a strange silent spot near a table where six guys, all in their twenties or early thirties, were sitting. All of them had long hair, tattoos, biker jackets and had their motorcycle helmets stowed under the high stools they sat on. None of them were looking her direction. All of them were pouring over a map spread out on the table.
With shaking hands, she picked up her scone and took a nervous bite. A bead of jam stuck to her lip. She deftly licked it away.
“Strawberry or raspberry?” asked the voice, its tone mildly curious.
“Raspberry,” she replied silently before realising what she was doing.
“I prefer blackcurrant myself.”
“Who are you?” she asked again, scanning the room.
“A fellow soul searcher.”
“A what?”
“A soul searcher. At least that’s what I like to think I am.”
“Well, you’re not searching mine,” she snapped indignantly.
“Too late. I already have,” mused the voice. “You’re worried that you’ll miss the deadline on the article that’s open on your laptop at home. You’re going to pick up your dry cleaning when you leave here. You have chicken simmering in the slow cooker in your kitchen for dinner. Enough for two meals. Oh, and you forgot to put wine in the fridge before you left. Pinot Grigio.”
Her blood ran cold. Fear began to seize her.
All thoughts of finishing her scone and the coffee vanished.
Grabbing her bag, she paid for her coffee and fled from the café into the street.
By the time she had walked the three miles homes, carrying her dry cleaning, she had almost calmed down. As her beach front cottage came into view, she spotted a large Harley Davidson parked on the pavement. There was no sign of the rider.
Quickly she ran down the steps to her front door. A shadow at the side of the whitewashed house caught her eye.
Someone was sitting on her bench gazing out at the river.
Slowly she made her way round the narrow path .
A young man, more or less her own age, sat there with his long denim clad legs stretched out in front of him. His leather jacket and helmet lay beside him on the bench. Long dark hair tumbled down over his shoulders, cascading down his back. His eyes were closed and she wondered for a moment if he was asleep.
Suddenly his eyes opened. They were deep, dark brown, liquid pools of melted chocolate. He smiled.
“I brought the Pinot Grigio.”
To be continued…….
November is National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo).
The challenge is to commit to writing 50 000 words during the month of November.
I’ll be honest, I considered taking up the challenge then consulted my own planned writing schedule, my social calendar, my “real work” commitments and laughed….not a snowball’s hope in hell!
It has got me thinking though – seldom a good thing!
It’s got me thinking about the prompts that inspire people to write.
As I’m currently knee-deep in Book Baby 3, I don’t have a huge amount of time to write anything new but a part of me is already looking ahead. There’s this wee voice whispering in my ear, “What’s next?”
I have a reasonable idea of “what’s next” after Book Baby 3 and the prompts have come from the Silver Lake series (no more hints!)
However, what other prompts do writers use to trigger their creative juices?
If, like me, you follow some of the writing pages on social media, you will have seen that they have been flooded with well-intentioned prompts over the past few days.
There are whole websites dedicated to providing prompts for aspiring writers. There are literally thousands of inspirational ideas on Pinterest and Tumblr. There are apps available to download to your phone dedicated to prompts.
It would seem there’s a whole creative writing business that’s centred on providing assistance to generate more creative writing ideas.
I may use some of the prompts I’ve stumbled across recently at some point in the future. Never say never and all that.
Another method to prompt a tale or two is to keep a file of random photos. This was a method one of my high school English teachers used. He kept a manila folder full of magazine pictures, newspaper photos and postcards. Every now and again we were asked to pick one then go forth and write an essay inspired by it.
I used this method for a while and, in fact, only recently rediscovered my “inspiration folder” from twenty some years ago.
In recent years, I’ve used more personal prompts – song lyrics that struck a chord, memories of a particular place, throw away comments from friends. While I’d never deliberately create a fictional character that mirrors someone in my “real world”, there are character traits manifesting themselves in my book babies. My own character traits as well as those of friends and family. One example of that is Lori from the Silver Lake Series’ ideal breakfast of a toasted cinnamon raisin bagel, streaky bacon and coffee is my own personal favourite breakfast.
Daydreams also inspire some of my shorter pieces of fiction.
I guess that’s what makes someone a writer – not that I am claiming any great literary ability here, let’s get that straight.
I write primarily for enjoyment and relaxation. It is my stress reliever at the end of a day. It’s my escape from the real world. It’s a huge bonus if other people happen to enjoy the tales that I spin.
Now I wonder….can I squeeze in time to write 50 000 words of a new story by 30 November?……..
images source from Google
More information on NaNoWriMo can be found at http://www.nanowrimo.org
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged #blogging, #creativewriting, #nanowrimo, #writingchallenge, inspiration, writing
Another summer had come and gone. Safe in the abandoned mausoleum the dark angel had been biding her time.
The small village had been in mourning throughout the summer months following the unexplained disappearance of two young waitresses from the local hotel. Both girls had left work at the same time together late one evening. Neither of them had been seen alive again; neither of them had been seen since. A local runner had found a mobile phone belonging to one of them near the entrance to the cemetery and, a few feet away, the Radley purse belonging to the other girl. Nothing else had ever been traced.
As the sun set on a late October evening, the angel stretched her wings, stepped daintily over the desiccated remains of her last two victims and ventured out of the mausoleum. The youthful fertile feminine blood of the two waitresses had restored her strength. With her vitality fully recovered, the dark angel was ready to resume her hunt.
Noise from the nearby church hall disrupted her train of thought.
Effortlessly she spread her magnificent black wings and flew silently through the trees. Discretely perched on the hall’s roof, hidden from prying eyes by the shadow of the trees, she watched as a group of mothers, some in costume, shepherded a dozen or more children, all in fancy dress, out of the building.
“All Hallows Eve,” she thought as she admired some of the costumes. “How sweet would the blood of a child be!”
Licking her crimson lips, the angel watched as the mothers chaperoned the children as they set off guising through the village. In her cold heart, much as she desired it, the angel knew there were fruits that were forbidden even to her.
Flexing her wings, she prepared to head off to the nearby farm estate in search of an alternative meal when her nostrils detected a welcome aroma. Her senses heightened as the ferrous musk mixed with sweat wafted along on the light autumn breeze.
A rhythmic thud thud, thud filled her ear and was then drowned out by music, if you could call it that. How could he bear that infernal racket in his ears?
A second lighter set of footsteps echoed round, accompanied by lighter more melodic music.
There were two of them.
Glancing up the hill, she watches the two runners approach.
A wicked smile played on her lips.
As the two men drew level with the church hall’s driveway, the angel spread her wings and rose soundlessly in flight.
For almost an hour she followed them, soaring high above, keeping close to the tree line where possible as they pounded their way through the marina, along the beach footpath then back towards the village along the busy coast road.
Darkness had long since fallen. Using it to camouflage her, the angel risked flying lower and closer. His heavenly perfume was arousing her every sense. If only he was alone…..
Eventually their route brought them back to the village and, breathing heavily, the weary athletes began to head up the steep hill towards the church.
As they reached the fork in the road, they parted company – one ran straight on up the hill; the other, the source of her desires, ran along the single track road past the cemetery where he’d found the dead girls’ belongings.
She could see the veins in his neck pulsing, teasing her desire to finally taste his rich blood. Could this be her ideal opportunity?
In the distance she could hear the guisers and their chaperones coming down the road, Torchlight was flickering up ahead as they drew closer with every step.
It was now or never.
Silently she dropped down onto the road a few feet in front of him. Spreading her black, purple tipped wings, she sighed as he slowed in his progress towards her. The beads of sweat on his brow shone like pearls in the moonlight. Feeling an uncontrollable lust stirring deep within her, she licked her lips. Their eyes met.
“Great costume,” he gasped as he was almost within her reach.
She rocked onto the balls of her slender feet, preparing to feast at last on his blood.
Suddenly, out of the darkness a cry shattered the moment.
“Daddy!”
The footsteps of a child were thundering rapidly down the dark road towards them.
“Soon,” hissed the angel, still staring into the depths of his soul.
With one strong beat of her magnificent wings, she vanished into the night.
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged #blogging, #darkangel, #Halloween, #MondayBlogs, #vampiretale, horror
Confession time – I am quite a cluttered person.
Over the years, my tendency to live in a cluttered world compared to the Big Green Gummi Bear’s tendency to neatness have led to a few heated exchanges.
Simple fact – I like my things around me to create my comfort zone. I’m possibly borderline at hoarding certain things too, if I’m being honest. I like to keep things that I have an emotional attachment to but even I have to acknowledge that every now and then a cull of the clutter is required.
Usually there’s a catalyst to this and this time round it’s been no different. We decided to overhaul the bedroom (new flooring, new bed etc- cue expedition to Ikea)
The Big Green Gummi Bear said that the free-standing triple wardrobe had to go to create more space in the room and decreed that I needed to make space in the fitted wardrobe for his belongings…GULP!!!
That wardrobe hasn’t been properly cleared out in over ten years (hangs head in shame).
Hanging space was dealt with relatively painlessly. Most of my summer clothes and some of my other outfits have been packed into suitcases and, for me, I was ruthless in what I added to the charity bag. (OK, I confess, I kept the dress I’ve had since I was 16 but I love it and it still fits.)
Two or three bags made their way to the charity shop.
Part one of the mission was accomplished and the Big Green Gummi Bear moved his clothes into “my” wardrobe.
Part two involved tackling the “stuff” stashed at the bottom of the wardrobe and the treasure that were weighing down the top shelf. (There’s a huge amount of space in this TARDIS of a wardobe)
In the midst of this wardrobe mission, I was given a side assignment. I had to clear out three chests of drawers (well about six drawers across the three sets.)
All this upheaval was sending my stress levels soaring!
I felt like I was being hauled out of my comfort zone by the hair!
“Get a grip, girl!”
Over a few evenings, I dealt with the drawers. It was a trip down memory lane as I found countless old photos, theatre programmes, handmade cards from the kids, letters from my penfriends dating back years (yes, folk used to put pen to paper and write actual letters to each other). I had no choice but to be ruthless and, much as it almost killed me, I had to bin several black bags worth of memories. The photos I kept…and most of the theatre programmes…and the occasional handmade card from the kids.
Now to the wardrobe……I was dreading that task!
I had a few days holiday from work pre-arranged for this week so I decided to tackle the bottom of the wardrobe on Monday and the top shelf on Tuesday.
Trying to keep my anxiety at binning things in check, I split the stuff into bundles-
Keep
Bin
Donate to charity
Progress was hampered by the willing assistance of Girl Child’s kitten, Stinky. He felt the need to explore every bag and every box and every corner of the wardrobe at least a dozen times!
The bottom of the wardrobe generated four black bags of rubbish (See, I was being strict with myself, Big Green Gummi Bear), two more bags for charity and a huge pile of personal papers to be destroyed. (Over ten years’ worth of bills and bank statements!)
How to safely dispose of them? Still trying to work that out! It’s too big a job for our aging shredder. I tried burning some but that proved unsuccessful….hmm…more thought required on that conundrum.
Next morning, I got the stepladders out to tackle the top shelf. Stinky parked himself under the ladders to supervise. In fairness, the top shelf wasn’t too bad…..well, bad enough but not awful!
One of the hardest things to part with lay up there.
Don’t laugh, please. I’m about to get a bit sentimental here.
There was a large black holdall full of old baby/toddler clothes. It was a mix of Boy Child’s and Girl Child’s outfits, although largely hers. As I lifted them out to fold them up and put them into the charity bag, I could see them in each of the outfits. (Bear in mind he’s now almost 19 and she’s 16) I could smell the freshly bathed baby smell as I gave Boy Child’s tiny Tigger sleepsuit a final hug. Girl Child’s little denim dresses reminded me of her as a toddler, always busy at something. Her burgundy velvet tunic top and leggings that brought out the blue in her eyes….oh I could go on … I won’t. You get the picture, right? It seemed like only yesterday that I was dressing them in those clothes. Precious memories. I was an emotional wreck by the time the holdall was empty.
It generated another two bags for the charity shop.
After a couple of hours, I was done.
Mission accomplished.
A trip to the dump (sorry, recycling centre) took care of the five black bags of rubbish.
A trip into town to see my friend at the charity shop took care of the four bulky bags destined for there. (Huge thanks to the lovely lady who was passing and helped me to get the shop door open as I heaved the bags into the shop.)
So the bedroom and the wardrobe have been de-cluttered. It looks good. (Ok, there’s three small boxes of books and photos still to be put away in the loft sitting in a corner)
I think, slowly, my “roots” are uncurling and beginning to settle back into my comfort zone. Stress levels are gradually returning to normal.
I’ve made a deal with myself not to be so “cluttered” going forward. Will I manage to stick to it? Time will tell…..
Before..
During
After
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged #amblogging, #blogging, #clearout, #recycling, clutter, confession, memories
When did you last pause in your hectic day to look around you and appreciate the beauty of the Autumn colours?
They are spectacular!
Much as I love a hot sunny summer’s day, a crisp sunny Autumn day comes a close second. I was out for a meander at lunchtime today and that was when the variety of colours that Mother Nature has created for us really struck me.
The sun was hitting the leaves of the trees around the area where the salt mine is and they were positively glowing gold. There were scarlet berries in the hedgerow. Some of the green plants and bushes were turning to their autumn orange and reds. Oh so pretty!
It’s as though we’re being treated to a last colourful display before the dark days of winter are upon us.
If you haven’t looked around you, here’s a few photos to remind you of what you are missing.
When The Big Green Gummi Bear came home and said that he’d arranged for us to go to a gin tasting, I was somewhat surprised.
Neither of us drink gin!
However, having bought tickets for the event, it would’ve been rude not to.
I was a little unsure of what to expect as the date approached.
When we arrived at the boat club, our host for the evening had a long table set up beautifully with plastic martini glasses, each with a slice of fruit in it, divided into four groups – one for each type of gin he’s brought along for sampling.
(“Whew”, thought my inner self. Being a light weight when it comes to drinking alcohol, I thought, “I can cope with four small gins of an evening.”)
The event began with a brief history of the drink. I learned a few interesting facts.
Gin is the shortened form of the Old English word genever and derived from the Latin juniperus meaning juniper, one of the main constituents of the drink. Gin was originally drunk for its medicinal properties. It can be traced as far back as the Ancient Egyptians circa 1550BC and is mentioned in the Ebers Papyrus as being a remedy for stomach complaints. Roman historian Pliny the Elder also wrote about the therapeutic benefits of the juniper berry based spirit around 78AD.
To bring things up-to-date, in the 17th Century the Dutch had developed a juniper based spirit and also begun to add other botanical ingredients to enhance the flavour. Dutch soldiers were given a measure of this drink to give them strength before they went into battle, hence the term “Dutch courage.”
Gin first grew in popularity in Britain in the mid-17th Century when William of Orange came to the throne and, if you’re not a fan of gin, you could argue, it all went downhill from there.
Gin was initially allowed to be distilled without a license. This resulted in a craze for the drink before The Gin Acts of 1736 and 1751 brought its production under stricter control.
Gin’s reputation as “Mother’s ruin” comes from this era too as women often made and sold gin in small quantities from their homes. William Hogarth produced a hard-hitting anti-gin engraving in 1751, Gin Lane. It contrasted with his engraving Beer Street which portrays beer as being better for you and your well-being.
Gin enjoyed mixed fortunes as a drink right up until Prohibition. The price if spirits rocketed during Prohibition so in order to make a drink last longer, folk began to mix it with other things. Voila! – the gin based cocktail was born! The most common is of course the gin and tonic.
So, what gins were on offer for us to taste.
There were four different botanical gin brands.
Blackwoods was the first on offer. A Scottish gin infused with handpicked Shetland botanicals. These gave it a citrusy taste. Not too unpleasant.
Brecon gin was next from the Brecon Beacons in Wales. This one was served to us with a strawberry in the bottom of the glass. It was distinctly different from the first. This one was my least favourite of the evening. It was too fruity and reminded me of cough medicine. The Big Green Gummi Bear’s face when he ate the gin-soaked strawberry was interesting though!
Boe gin from Stirling, Scotland was the third brand available for tasting. I was surprised to find a thin slice of apple in the glass. This one I liked! There was a cleaner slightly spiced taste to it. I could enjoy drinking this one (and the slice of apple was quite tasty too!)
Ophir was the final of the four brands. This one is branded as an oriental spiced gin and was most definitely the prettiest bottle. The taste here was more exotic, almost curry like. I preferred it to the first two brands but overall it was too bizarre a spiced flavour for my delicate tastebuds.
So, all four had been tasted and debated and enjoyed.
Have I been converted to being a gin drinker? Probably not, although we did enjoy a few a more from the club’s bar over the rest of the evening.
Something that did make me sit up and take note though was the announcement at the end of the tasting session that the gentleman would be back in a few months to do a prosecco and champagne tasting.
The Big Green Gummi Bear better get tickets for that one!
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged #amblogging, #blogging, #gin, Ebers Papyrus, Pliny the Elder, William Hogarth
 | Williams on Paused (poem) |
 | Happy 12th Blogivers… on A little insight into things t… |
 | Justin Orfanella on Longhand vs typed |
 | moodverse907 on I AM…. (poetry blog… |
 | mikegailey on One Last Chance |
Coral McCallum 