Tag Archives: #amblogging

You know that one sound that grates on your very worst nerve…..

635861324375335123-507403629_ears2

I had a blog post written in my head and then I arrived home….

The Big Green Gummi Bear was in the midst of fixing our electric garage door. It had been sticking, so he was working “man magic” to ensure it runs smoothly.

For what felt like forever, he made it go up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down… In reality, this went on for about thirty or forty minutes. In reality, in the grand scheme of things, it’s not even a loud noise.

Indoors, I was slowly feeling my blood begin to boil as the incessant noise droned on and on and on and on…. I had my iPod playing reasonably loudly in the kitchen, filling the room with my preferred hard rock music (Disturbed on this occasion, in case you were curious) but my “bat hearing” was still detecting the drone of the garage door motor. In my head, it was drowning out all other more pleasing sounds.

There was no point in complaining to the BGGB or of saying anything to him when he finally stopped and came indoors. The issue here is mine and it’s literally all in my head.

Certain noises can quietly drive me almost insane if they go on long enough.

12a18fb885968f8899ea436a2a8b40c9

There’s a few everyday culprits on the list :- the sound of the vacuum cleaner (worse if someone else is driving it), the kitchen extractor fan, hairdryers, certain types of music (think hard house nation, boom boom boom stuff, clubland mixes) some strong accents and the BGGB’s snoring and rattling breathing while he’s asleep.

There are probably a few more but I’m sure you’ve got the hint. Perhaps you’re even nodding in agreement.

I had always assumed it was me being intolerant even though I am a patient person by nature but then I stumbled across an article about noise and discovered that this reaction to noise had a name.

Misophonia.

 It literally translates into “hatred of sound” and is a recognised neurological disorder. It is also very common, more so among women, and is easy to cope with day to day in its mildest forms.

Now I don’t truly believe that I am any more sensitive to sounds than most people (perhaps I am, who knows!) but, as I’ve listed, there are certain trigger sounds that get on my very worst nerve!

The reaction they can trigger varies from mild irritation to annoyance to anger. From the research I’ve read, in its severest forms, Misphonia can trigger violent rages in sufferers. (The BGGB should be thankful that his “sleeping noises” don’t trigger such an extreme response and that all he usually endures is a poke to the ribs!) Other sufferers can experience anxiety and panic attacks triggered by everyday noises. As you can imagine, this has a detrimental effect on their quality of life.

If “eating noises” are a trigger, one of the most common recognised triggers, then life can quickly become quite restricted.

Doctors aren’t sure what causes Misophonia but have determined that its not linked to a person’s hearing or ears. Research so far has shown that it is part mental and part physical. The mental impact of the sound triggers a negative physical response eg anger. There is no known cure either at present.

For now, sufferers have to learn to live with the condition or develop their own coping strategies. CBT and hypnosis have been found to provide relief of the symptoms in some people.

For me, the answer is usually to drown the noise out with another more pleasing sound (cue louder rock music- sorry neighbours) or, where possible, to turn it off. (To be honest, I’d rather a cooking smell filled kitchen than have to endure the torture of the extractor fan over the cooker- fact!)

Sadly, most sufferers have to just grin and bear it and pray their trigger sound stops before their temper snaps.

Now that I’ve got you thinking….what noises get under your skin?

 For more information on Misophonia visit www.misophonia-uk.org

images sourced via Google

When Did We Become So Timebound?….

clocks

A thought struck me this morning at 7:51am to be precise.

I’d been awake for two hours and one minute at this point.

It struck me how controlled by time life is.

My alarm clock had gone off at 5:50am as it does every “school” day. I had to be in the bathroom by 6:10am so that I would be out  again, clean and shining, by 6:30am to waken Girl Child. (OK, the lure of the hot water jet kept me in there a few extra minutes this morning and I wakened her at 6:40am) Boy Child had to be up at 7:15am to give him time to shower before dashing off to uni.

In order to get to the “salt mine” via the school and allowing for traffic I had to leave by 8:20am.

Even before I reached my desk, three hours of my day had been controlled by the clock.

It goes without really saying that the following eight and a half hours were strictly controlled by the clock as I moved from meetings to audios, a brief thirty minute break for a lunchtime coffee, then more audios and meetings…..sigh…..

Even my evening so far is timebound as I endeavour to ensure that dinner is ready at the right time then, in due course, that someone picks up Girl Child from work at 9:15pm.

When did our lives become so controlled by time?

I remember as a little girl saving up my pocket money to buy a red Snoopy watch. “Why?” I’m now asking myself….

Life’s been timebound ever since!

What would life be like if we weren’t controlled by clocks?

Would it be more relaxed and less stressful?

Could we live our lives keeping track of the time using the sun like our ancestors did?

Would we be healthier if we followed this more natural rhythm? Would we only eat when our bodies were actually hungry rather than being driven by “it’s one o’clock I must stop for lunch”?

I realise that, in a practical sense, we need time constraints and appointment times but what if over the weekend we stopped checking up on the time and just went with the flow?

 

A thought to ponder on…..however the clock’s telling me that my dinner is ready and it’s time to eat!

 

image sourced from Google

Credits to the owner

A New Year Means New Goals And A Fresh Challenge …….

uyqkfj0qmsmikeifyqfapuwbfjltwl42iw8zyystxifkisgufuc1iydptzzy9qpd

I’m not one for making New Year’s resolutions but, over the past few years, I have set myself a creative challenge or goal for the coming year.

The only problem with the goals that I’ve set for the past three years is that they have been ongoing.  These creative goals have so far resulted in two blog pages, two (almost three) book babies and a new rock star Instagram/Twitter fan page. My “free” time is diminishing rapidly!

This year, for the sake of my sanity, I’m going to keep it simple.

Completing, editing and publishing Book Baby 3, aka Bonded Souls, is my primary goal but, if all goes to plan, it should be accomplished by Spring.

That leaves me eight or nine months to fill…..drums fingers as she thinks…..takes a deep breath.

My second goal is to write the first draft of a new novel by the end of the year. GULP!

 Now, before fans of a certain Jake Power get their hopes up, it won’t be a Silver Lake book. Also for the sake of my sanity, I need a break from all things Silver Lake however……I’m not ruling out an overlap between the new novel and some of the characters from the Silver Lake tales. I’ve a couple of ideas floating around so we’ll see where they lead to.

On the Book Baby 3 front, editing and proofreading is underway and I’ve started my battle of wills with Photoshop, as I work on the cover design. I’m not quite ready to reveal it to the world just yet but let’s just say my book baby is no longer totally naked.

Well, the clock’s ticking, so, if I’m to meet these goals, I’d better get cracking.

What are your goals or challenges or resolutions for 2017?

image sourced via Google

credits to the owner

Has It Really Been Three Years?

291216-3yr-blogiversaryI find it hard to believe but it has been three years since I started this blog.

I remember the fear and trepidation that I felt as I pressed “publish” on that very first post as if it were yesterday.

I largely started this blog to overcome my fear of people reading what I write and I think I’ve perhaps finally  conquered it. (I still get a flutter of nerves in the pit of my stomach as I hit “publish”)

Three years down the line I’ve kept up with my weekly blog posts on here, created a sister music blog, The 525 To Glasgow, written and published two book babies with a third due in the Spring. Add in the various short stories that have appeared on this page and, I think you’ll agree, it’s been a busy three years.

I couldn’t have done it without you.

It’s the love and support of each and every one of you that has kept me searching for rainbows and  chasing my  dreams so thank you.

 

A little pre-Christmas Silver Lake treat from me to you

merry-christmas-and-happy-new-year-2014-1600x900-583

As regular followers of my ramblings will know, I’m knee deep in Book Baby 3. The first draft is almost typed up (technically it’s the second as the first is the handwritten one) The proof reading and editing and revising are underway once more (huge thanks to my Infamous Five- couldn’t do it without you guys.)

All going according to plan, Book Baby 3 aka Bonded Souls will be launched in Spring 2017.

As a little pre-Christmas treat, I thought I’d share a short excerpt with you.

Sorry, no spoilers. No plot give away. No hints of things to come other than the obvious one (well, its obvious if you’ve read the first two books in the Silver Lake series.)

I’d also like to take a moment to thank each and every one of you for your support and kind words this year. It really makes all the hard work worthwhile.

Have a wonderful Christmas when it comes and may all your dreams come true in 2017.

Coral x

A little snatch of Bonded Souls, book 3 in the Silver Lake Series

Despite all the touring and travelling, Jake lay wide awake in the strange bed in his sister’s guest room. A glance at his phone informed him it was after midnight; his internal body clock has long since surrendered and given up trying to determine the time of day. He could hear one of his nephew’s snoring in the room next door. Reaching for his phone, Jake re-read his last message from Lori. “Sweet dreams, rock star. Love you L x”

With a smile, he laid the phone back down on the night stand. Only a few short hours until he would be reunited with her. After having Lori with him for two full weeks on tour, the last couple of days had felt empty without her presence. The final two shows of the tour had been incredible. In Zurich, the Swiss fans had filled the concert hall, but seemed more reserved than the other European fans had been. When they had reached Rome the following day for the final show, the Italian fans’ passion had blown the band away. All of them agreed that they had never heard such a loud crowd. The atmosphere in the venue had been amazing and Jake was genuinely sorry that Lori had missed it and the end of tour party that had followed.

His mind wandered to thoughts of the wedding and he ran through the music he had in mind plus his plans for a romantic dinner on Saturday evening. He had already booked a table at Lori’s favourite Italian restaurant and requested that her favourite champagne be waiting on them.

“The ring!” he suddenly thought. Where had he put it? Just as panic was about to sweep in, he remembered that Lori had both their rings.

Earlier in the day he had received messages from both his brothers and his dad promising to be in New York on Saturday. Knowing that his family were going to be there made him feel more than a little anxious. Although he had gone a long way to restoring relations with them, Jake still felt stressed at the thought of them all being together. He also felt guilty, knowing that Lori had no immediate family to invite.

With his mind still racing and no sign of sleep in sight, Jake slipped out of bed and crept quietly down to the kitchen to fetch himself a warm drink. His mother had always sworn that warm milk helped you to sleep. Trying not to make too much noise, Jake filled a mug with milk and popped it into the microwave to heat through. As the timer “pinged” a few seconds later, he heard the kitchen door open behind him and turned around to see Lucy standing there in her fleecy Pooh Bear pyjamas.

“Oh, it’s you,” she mumbled sleepily. “I thought it was one of the boys prowling.”

“Sorry,” apologised Jake, taking the mug from the microwave. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Warm milk?”

He nodded as he took a seat at the table. “Can’t sleep and Mom always swore by it.”

“Yeah, she did,” sighed Lucy, fetching herself a clean mug from the dishwasher. “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all,” replied Jake, sipping his milk. “Feels kind of weird being here. It’s like I’ve stepped into another life.”

“Not enough partying?” teased Lucy as she sat down opposite him. “I would’ve thought after the last month that you’d be glad to be able to relax for a while.”

“I am,” began Jake. “But it takes a few days to adjust after a tour. Plus, I’ve a wedding on my mind.”

“Nervous, big brother?”

“A bit,” he confessed, sounding almost shy. “I was lying in bed thinking about everything. Thinking about family. Stressing a bit.”

“And wishing mom was here to keep those guys under control,” finished Lucy quietly.

Silently, Jake nodded.

They sat drinking their milk for a few minutes, both of them lost in their own memories.

“I wish she’d met Lori,” said Jake, staring down into his empty mug. “Wish she’d seen the band come together. Wish she’d seen us play a show. Seen me get my act together.”

Reaching out to touch his hand, Lucy said, “I like to think she’s keeping an eye on us all. Sometimes I can hear her in my head. Hear her approval or disapproval. I know in my heart that she would be proud of you. Mom would’ve adored Lori. In a lot of ways, they are very alike.”

With a wistful smile, Jake nodded, “I still hear her too. Usually it’s when I’m writing late at night. I can almost smell her Chanel perfume as I hear her say to keep working on it. Hear her tell me when it’s time to call it a day and get to bed.”

“Speaking of bed,” yawned Lucy, getting to her feet. “I’m going back to mine. We need to be up early to get everything packed in the car. I’ve no idea where we are putting all your gear!”

“Sweet dreams,” said Jake with a yawn as he watched her head out the door and down the hall.

 

If you’ve missed the first two books in the Silver Lake Series, you’ve still. time to catch up before Bonded Souls is launched. The Amazon links to the books one and two are below:

Stronger Within https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00VXDSC1M

Impossible Depths https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01C0GS30K

image sourced via Google

 

 

2016 – a year in pictures- the severely edited highlights

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)

q1-2016

q2-2016

q3-2016

and then there were some of the gigs I enjoyed……

2016-music-12016-music-22016-music-32016-music-4

Lots of happy memories there.

When All The Stars Align…

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.”

15202522_10154129670599071_6618282038233626712_n

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.

ab-family-1ab-family-2

 15202485_10210336342621688_2121803235816161658_n

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!

p1100175

A Time To Pause For Breath And Reflect

hydro-reflections

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.

 

Sometimes It Just Has To Be Done….

20161123_210830

Normal service will resume once repairs are complete 🙂

image sourced via Google

Cluttered Confessions….

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..

clutter-before

During

clutter-collage

After

clutter-after