Tag Archives: creative writing

Can We Hit The Pause Button For A Moment Please

Confession – no “proper” blog post this week.

The “real” world has been running at 100mph for days.The “creative” world has been dominated by Book Baby 2.

I’ve also been trying to get my new music review blog and associated FB page off the ground . (https://the525toglasgow.wordpress.com  and https://www.facebook.com/The525ToGlasgow if you fancy checking them out).

So apologies for the lack of a proper update. Normal chaos will resume next week….hopefully.

In the meantime, here’s some cute cats ( well isn’t that what everyone looks at online at some point!)

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And as a random after thought….a grape mouse 😉

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Yes- Rehoboth Is A Real Place

One question I’ve been asked on numerous occasions since unleashing my Book Baby on the world is – Is Rehoboth a real place?

Yes it is and it’s one of my favourite places on earth.

( https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rehoboth_Beach,_Delaware )

I first visited the small city in the exceedingly hot summer of 1980, during my second family holiday to visit family in the USA. I was only ten years old but the town captured my heart. Little did I know then but it would be twenty four years before I’d be back.

The first time I’d visited the States, I’d been four years old and we’d spent a few days near Ocean City, NJ. Among other memories that stood out for me from that first trip were memories of walking in the cold sand under the boardwalk and of walking on the boardwalk itself. Aged ten, I was keen to see the ocean and the boardwalk again.

During that first trip to Rehoboth, we stayed in a rented house for a week, splitting our beach time between Dewey Beach and Rehoboth Beach. My recollections of the beach near the town of Dewey Beach are that it was beautiful but it reeked of dead smelly horseshoe crabs. There were piles of them at the back of the beach. The smell was awful! My memories of Rehoboth smell much sweeter!

The town beach at Rehoboth was fabulous to the ten year old me. I loved playing in the ocean swell, “jumping waves” with my aunt, and later in the day, visiting the shops up on the boardwalk. A couple of times we came back into town after dinner and walked the boardwalk as the sun set.

Memories of salt water taffy and fudge and of T-shirt shops selling souvenirs and hermit crabs filled my beach dreams for over twenty years.

Roll on until 2004 when I returned to America to visit my relatives but this time I arrived as an adult (well, as close as I’m going to get) and the mother of two small children. I made a special request to visit Rehoboth while we were there.

My memories from 1980 were of clear blue skies and blistering sun. When I returned to town in July 2004, the skies were over cast. By the time my cousin had parked his beaten up old van (there’s a whole story about that van that I’ll save for another day) and sourced the obligatory quarters for the parking meter (yes- they still have parking meters in the centre of town), the heavens had opened and we were all soaked to the skin by the time we sprinted into Hooters for lunch.

It didn’t matter to me in the slightest. Even under the black rain clouds, Rehoboth still looked exactly as it had in my mind for all those years. Whew!

The rain had eased up by the time we’d finished lunch so we strolled down the main avenue and along the boardwalk. Bliss! All the shops looked and felt the same, right down to the hermit crabs in their brightly coloured shells.

Since then it’s become a family pilgrimage, when we are lucky enough to be in the States, to spend a day at the beach then come into town for dinner and a stroll along the boardwalk.

Even the drive down from Philadelphia, down the Coastal Highway, to reach Rehoboth Beach and nearby Cape Henlopen has been a ritual. Dover Downs race track is the first major sign, signalling that you are past the half way point in the journey. Each of us has our own personal landmark that we watch out for as we head towards the ocean. There are numerous, now familiar, landmarks apart from Dover Downs. There’s a particular house with its own hangar and, I believe, its own airstrip, there’s a surf-style shop miles outside town selling all sorts of beach inflatables, there’s the first road sign that says “Beaches”, there’s the sign that says Slaughter Beach (that one always makes me smile. I need to visit there someday) then there’s the Rehoboth Beach water tower.

I can see each and every one of these in my mind’s eye as I type this even though it’s been three years since my last visit. Too long!

A day at the shore usually means hitting the sand south of the town where my cousin can drive his truck down onto the sand (after letting a lot of the air out of the tyres), finding a good spot to sunbathe, fish and play in the ocean swell. A good spot to watch for dolphins. After a day in the sun, we pile into the truck and, after re-inflating the tyres, drive up to the bath house a couple of miles up the road for a shower. The bath house is all part of the experience! Sand- filled luke-warm showers. Black biting flies and mosquitos by the dozen and screaming, whining, tired, sun-burnt kids. It’s a great facility but definitely not one of the highlights of the day! However, it gets all the sand, well most of it, washed out the bits that sand should never be in and freshens you up so you look semi-respectable when you arrive in town.

Every time there’s the same scramble for quarters…you’d think we’d learn! Somehow, between us all, we always find enough. At Boy Child’s request, it’s pizza for dinner with a bowl of cheese fries on the side – sinfully delicious! As for the pizza – well it’s worth travelling 3000 miles for!

I try to steal a few moments down on the beach, imprinting the place in my mind until next time round.

We walk the boardwalk, play tourist in and out of the shops, visit the arcade then head back to the truck as the sun disappears and the quarters run out.

Happy days and precious memories.

My high school English teacher once said to me that one way to make my stories more believable and realistic was to write about places and things that were close to my heart.

When it came to choosing a location for my Silver Lake series, there only ever was one choice – Rehoboth Beach, Delaware.

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Book Baby aka Stronger Within – book one in the Silver Lake series can be found at-

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Stronger-Within-Volume-Silver-Series/dp/151176709X/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1436461771&sr=8-1

My Own Personal Creative Mess

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I stumbled across the above statement on Facebook a few days ago and it raised a smile as I visualised my “creative corner” of the house in the family kitchen.

I’ll hold my hands up, as the photo below shows, my desk aka the kitchen table currently looks like a bomb has gone off on it! (I will tidy it up after I finish this post…promise!)

The layout of the family home and garden doesn’t afford me the luxury of my own study or a summerhouse out in the garden to allow me to work in cluttered tranquillity. I have contemplated clearing out the cupboard under the stairs and hiding out Harry Potter-style but it would be too claustrophobic.

So, for now, my “desk” is the kitchen table. I’m fairly flexible about where I will park myself to write though. At the first glint of sun, I’ll head outside. Much of Book Baby was written while sitting on the front doorstep in the summer sun. Numerous blog posts and music reviews have been penned out there too.

My serialised story The Imp has largely been written during wet and windy lunch hour’s at work. (It currently lurks in my work bag waiting on a suitably wet spell of weather around midday)

I frequently de-camp to the conservatory too but it gets SO cold out there once the sun goes off it and in winter it’s like a freezer!

Most evenings find me settled at the kitchen table.

True, it’s right in the heart of the house and my train of thought is regularly de-railed by various family members passing through (Pause here- gets up and assists Girl Child peeling an apple- I rest my case!) but it’s become “my space”. Well, in my head at least. Everything is to hand, including the fridge and the kettle. Sometimes this is too handy!

So what makes up the “creative mess” scattered across the table? Apart from the obvious –laptop, phone, iPod docking station and TV (Not sure when it was last switched on), there’s my camera, my stationary supplies, a growing pile of notebooks and a pile of junk mail. (Really must sort through it…..)

The pile of notebooks are my work in progress. Book Baby 2 in its raw state is there while I devote time to typing up the first draft (yes, I’m old-fashioned and write everything longhand first). Book Baby 3 lies half-written in the middle of the pile. The omnipresent “Photoshop Elements 13 for Dummies” is lurking there as a constant reminder that I’ve failed so far to master masking and layering images…..GRRRR (Anyone want to offer to explain the black magic mysteries of this software to me?)

And there’s my To Do list which is slowly being ticked off as the week passes.

So, yes, it is a creative mess but tidy idleness just doesn’t compute!

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Habit? Routine? Me? …eh……perhaps….

I sat as usual on Sunday morning, coffee and cinnamon raisin bagel to hand, to write my blog post for the week. After a bit of deliberation, I wrote a reasonable blog. The coffee was done. The bagel was long since gone. I packed away my stuff ready to type it up and post it on Monday.

Monday arrived and I stopped in my tracks…….

When I started this blog it wasn’t meant to become routine!

I am an incredible creature of habit. No point in even trying to deny the fact. Anyone who knows me knows that you can almost set your watch by my habits!

I certainly never intended and or intend this blog to become habit!

So I binned the planned post! (Well, it is still handwritten in my notebook so I reserve the right to revisit it another time.)

So now I have no blog to post.

Perhaps this is all reflective of a slight crisis of confidence that I’ve been working through over the last couple of weeks.

Perhaps not……

So while I seek some inspiration for my next “proper” blog please enjoy a few photographic moments from the last few days.

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Dream Come True! …….it’s real!

On Thursday 11th June a parcel arrived for me. (Huge thanks to my neighbour across the street for taking it in for me).

Instantly I knew what it was.

Secreted in cardboard packaging, I was holding something I’d only ever dreamed of holding in my hands.

Trembling, I carried it into the kitchen and sat it on the table, not trusting myself to look at it never mind open it!

Once I’d turned on the over for dinner and put away my bits and pieces of shopping, I carried my package upstairs to the bedroom and laid it down gently in the middle of the bed.

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I stood staring at it, still not believing that it was real.

I changed out of my work clothes then sat on the bed beside it, running my hand over the cardboard. Yes, I even took its photograph.

This was a never to be repeated moment in my life.

My heart was pounding. My hands were shaking. My throat felt dry.

Slowly I tore off the strip across the back of the package and caught my first glimpse of the contents.

A lump now filled my throat and unshed tears were stinging at my eyes.

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It was really real now.

Lovingly I slid the contents out of the cardboard sleeve.

I was holding it in my hands!

A huge smile of pride spread across my face as I tenderly caressed it.

What was I holding in my shaking hands?

The first ever paperback proof copy of my Book Baby – Stronger Within.

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Since its release on Kindle, there have been many emotional Book Baby moments that I’ll treasure forever- seeing it on sale on Amazon’s website for the first time; selling my first copy in the UK; selling my first copy in the USA and in other countries around the world; reading the first  5* reviews. It’s been an emotional creative roller coaster over the last few weeks.

Nothing however prepared me for the overwhelming emotion of actually holding it in my arms as a real “live” Book Baby!

The last piece of the dream was becoming a reality.

Book Baby sure has come a long way from the four tattered handwritten A4 notebooks that it began life as.

I know I’m biased but it’s beautiful. (Thank you so much to my Photoshop fairy godmother)

So after eleven days, has the feeling worn off?

No!

I’ve painstakingly re-read it from cover to cover, taking extra care not to break its spine, slotting in post-its at pages where the layout requires to be tweaked. I corrected one glaring spelling error. I corrected one “writing” error (I got left and right muddled up). I made one minor tweak to the wording of one section following a reviewer’s criticism of my non-USA language.

Even when it was brimming with post its, it still looked amazing to me.

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Corrections made, I submitted a second draft and ordered another proof copy.

I arrived home this evening expecting it to be waiting for me. No sign of it. A wave of disappointment washed over me. Oh well, there’s always tomorrow.

However as I sat on my front doorstep in the early evening sun, my neighbour handed me a cardboard package. (Huge thanks to next door!)

My heart began to pound and a smile began to grow.

I carried it indoors and laid it on the kitchen table then returned to the doorstep to finish off this post.

I guess I’d better go and open my parcel!

***The paperback edition of Stronger Within is available on Amazon now. ***

The First Few Days of Book Baby Motherhood

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It’s Sunday morning and I’m sitting in the sun with a coffee and some hot buttered cinnamon raisin toast, trying to get my head around the last few days.

What can I say about last week? Where to start!

When I uploaded my last blog post and launched Book Baby on the world I was physically trembling with nerves – scared nerves and excited nerves.

Walking into the salt mine as usual an hour or so later felt weird. I guess by then my own paranoia was beginning to creep in and I felt as though everyone was staring at me. The rational voice in my head told me not to be so stupid, to go and get a coffee and get on with some work – I did.

Throughout the day my phone, email and FB pages were lit up like Christmas trees as I was smothered in congratulatory wishes. Thank you!

The majority of the day was spent with a warm feeling of pride burning deep inside me – possibly fuelled by the 50 Shades of Red I turned every time anyone spoke to me about Book Baby!

I had bought a tiny bottle of bubbly on my way home the night before. In all honesty, I wasn’t sure how to celebrate this momentous event. I’d gone through many ideas in my head but wasn’t confident that anyone else would be the least bit interested in celebrating with me on a Wednesday night or any other night for that matter. (I’m not a party person)

The Big Green Gummi Bear usually heads to the gym after work so I didn’t expect him home until late – hence the choice of a little bottle of bubbles. Enough for one small glass each. One wee toast.

He surprised me by coming home early, skipping the gym. He said he felt as though it was wrong to go to the gym and that he should come home and celebrate with me. That meant SO much to me!

We toasted the birth of Stronger Within together – should’ve bought a bigger bottle after all!

Then we were both looking at each other with a “Now what?” question hanging in the air.

Emotionally it all felt very surreal and, to be honest, it still does.

Even now, I’m still blushing bright red any time anyone speaks to me about the book. That little nagging voice of “Paranoia” has been whispering in my ear all week as I hear of more and more friends and family (including parents!) and friends of my parents (eek!) who are reading or planning to start reading my Book Baby- what if they hate it? What if they think its rubbish? What if they are laughing at me behind my back?

What can I say? That’s me through and through about most things in life! Still psychologically scarred from the dim and distant past.

So “Now what”?  The question is still hanging there waiting to be answered.

I’ve drawn up a short list –

  • Stop feeling so self-conscious and allow myself to feel proud of my achievement
  • Relax and let things take their course with Stronger Within
  • Re-connect with my characters and story lines. The rest of the tale isn’t going to write itself!
  • Learn how to stop blushing!

I’ve a feeling that the last one may prove to be impossible!

A Labour of Love

Hopes and plans and dreams (some of them nightmares) for Book Baby are dominating my creative mind just now so apologies if blog posts are short and sweet over the next few weeks.

Although affectionately known as Book Baby (among a few other choice names on occasion) this whole process has in some respects been a bit like deciding to have a child and then going through a lengthy pregnancy.

Should I? Shouldn’t I? When’s a good time? Can I actually do this?

There’s a lot of “foreplay” as you work out what fits where and then the creative juices find their natural rhythm and flow freely.

Since creating my KDP account a few weeks back and being in the throes of getting Book Baby ready to face the world, I’m rapidly realising that writing the original draft of the story was the fun bit and the easy part ….. a bit like making a baby 😉

For the last few months, with the support of my wonderful alpha and beta readers, I’ve been nurturing Book Baby, preparing it for its arrival into the world of Kindle rock romance fiction.

We are now almost exactly a month from my anticipated publication date and, to compare it again to a baby bump, I have a large unwieldy word document that is dominating my world, draining my dwindling energy reserves and keeping me awake at night.

Book Baby’s due date is fast approaching and I don’t mind confessing to being more than a little scared here. I’m excited too and feeling just a little bit proud of myself for getting so far.

Irrational fears of “what if’s” are torturing me in the wee small hours as I lie awake.

“What if KDP reject it for some obscure reason?”

“What if people think Book Baby is ugly?”

“What if I can’t cope with this once it’s unleashed on the world?”

“What if I’m not cut out to be a Book Baby mummy?”

Like all new “mothers” I’ve deliberated long and hard over what “outfit” my baby will wear when it first ventures out in the world. I still have a few options but I think I’ve finally settled on a cover design. Thanks to another wonderfully supportive artistic friend my Book Baby won’t enter the Kindle world naked!

So now it’s time to allow the last few pages of the final draft to develop, for the little vital add-ons (author’s note, legal disclaimers and the like) to be finalised and then, with one final labour of love, to deliver it safely onto the Kindle platform.

Book Baby was conceived while sitting in the early evening sun on my front doorstep at the beginning of May 2013. Now after a labour of love lasting almost two years, the end is in sight.

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With A Little Help From My Friends – hopefully!

It’s been another one of “those” weeks around here. Living with two exam-stressed teenagers isn’t fun, as I’m sure all parents of teenagers will agree. Five exams in five days has been baptism by fire for Girl Child. (These exams are her first experience of sitting formal exams in the school assembly hall) I really felt for her and could empathise with her rising fear and panic, as I recalled my own exam experiences. I can still clearly picture the rows and rows of desks and still hear the silence.

In the midst of all this emotional turmoil, I made time to take my next leap of faith towards bringing my “creative baby” to life. Well it was on this week’s To Do List and had to be done at some point.

Mid-week I set up my Kindle Direct Publishing account. GULP!

Cue rising fear and panic to rival Girl Child’s!

Adding things like your tax information and bank account details in international format suddenly felt like very grown up things to be doing. Not like me at all. Scary stuff!

On reflection, my immediate reaction didn’t totally surprise me. As I’ve said in previous blog posts, my biggest fear as a writer is letting folk read what I write. Crazy, I know. By creating the KDP account and reading the T&C’s, in particular the list of countries that Amazon cover, brought home how many people my “creative baby” will be exposed to. Now I know that’s a good thing. The more exposure I can get for this book, the greater the chance of sales and success etc. I get it. But what if they think my “creative baby” is ugly? Hence the rising tide of fear and panic.

Breathe! Deep breaths! Breathe!

(A medicinal glass of wine may have been required at this point)

The following day, I stumbled across a magazine article about something that is another weakness of mine. (No – it was nothing to do with coffee or rock stars!) It was an article extolling the virtues of asking for help.

To ask for help is a bit of an alien concept for me. I’ve always attributed this to the fact I was an only child and had no siblings to either ask or help. Over the years and through various situations that life has thrown across my path, I’ve got used to finding my own way through things. I guess there have been times when I’ve felt to ask for help was to show weakness. The article brought home to me the fact that sometimes it’s necessary to ask for some assistance. We don’t all know the best way to do things or have the ability to do everything on our own. At the end of the day, it’s not a sign of weakness or stupidity to ask for help, particularly if you are doing something you’ve never done before.

The time has come to follow the advice I’ve been giving to both Boy Child and Girl Child for years. If you don’t fully understand the subject, ask for help.

So, that’s what I need to do here. If any of you beautiful people have any hints or tips to offer this fledging writer regarding using KDP, I’d be eternally grateful. If there are any pit falls lying in wait that I should be aware of, please let me know where they are lurking as it may save me from a painful fall. Any help will be gratefully received.

And if there are any suggestions for steering stressed out teenage girls through exams, I’ll take those on board too!

 

 

What A Difference A Year Can Make

It’s December again – how did that happen? Wasn’t Christmas just the other week? Scary how fast this year has gone.

Despite the wave of panic that is rising at the thought of Christmas being just over three weeks away, I took a moment or two to reflect this week.

In 2012, I sat myself down, did a lot of soul searching and gave myself a stern talking to. It was time to find something to do just for me; something to restore my self-belief. (It had taken a bit of a pounding.) It was time to find a creative outlet. After a lot of thought, I chose to complete a photographic challenge. During 2013, I took one photo for every day of the year, trying to ensure that it reflected something pertinent about the day. The photos were posted in an album on my Facebook wall and I was blown away by the number of friends who commented on and liked the results. Completing it gave me a tremendous sense of achievement and went some ways to restoring my self-confidence.

For 2014’s challenge, I deliberated long and hard. In the back of my mind there was a longer term goal beginning to form. I decided to use 2014 to overcome a major hurdle that lay in the way of that goal.

I had to overcome the fear of letting people read what I write.

As an aspiring writer, it is a crippling fear to have.

Starting this blog, as a means to overcome my fears, seemed like the logical creative challenge for the year ahead. The exact challenge I set myself was to complete and publish one blog post per week. (This will be blog post number fifty nine so I’ve exceeded my target.)

Little did I know how things would turn out.

During January and into February, I felt physically sick with nerves every time I hit “publish” on the screen. Gradually, however, it got easier. I began to add some poems onto my blog page, some as part of that week’s post.

While sitting in the car, in the dark, outside the high school, waiting for Boy Child to finish band practice, I wrote a short story called “The Imp” and posted it to my blog. Originally it was meant to be one short story but the interest it sparked among friends amazed me and The Imp’s tale was spun out to nine parts (and isn’t finished yet – I promise he will be back next year.)

In April, I answered a friend’s plea for assistance and wrote my first music review. I’ve just counted and, to date, I’ve written thirty one reviews for http://www.phoenixmusiconline.org  including reviews of five live shows, with more in the pipeline.

Music has played an enormous part in my life this year –much to the despair of The Big Green Gummi Bear, who doesn’t share my musical tastes. I’ve been fortunate enough to go to several gigs, with another two still to go before Christmas, that have inspired blog posts and reviews. Through the music review bit, I’ve also been lucky enough to befriend two up-and-coming bands – one from the USA and one from Australia. I’m looking forward to following both bands’ careers as they continue towards mega-stardom and headline appearances and to reviewing their future releases and shows.

Mid-year, music, or my love of one particular artist, led to another opportunity to exercise my creative side when I was asked to help admin a Facebook fan page for a couple of weeks while the two regular admins took a holiday. For one reason or another, six months down the line, I’m still happily helping out and loving every minute of it. This has also led me to make several new “FB friends” from around the world, some of whom I hope to meet later this week.

So, here we are, almost at the end of 2014, and looking forward to 2015’s challenge.

I hinted earlier that there was a longer term goal in mind when I began this blog and 2015’s challenge will be to turn that dream into reality.

In May 2013, I began the first draft of what will become my first novel. (There, I’ve finally said it!) I’m a bit old-fashioned and prefer to write long-hand for my first drafts then type the piece up as a first re-draft. So, while I’ve been doing all the other things I’ve just told you about (plus the normal day-to-day things like going to work and running the household) I’ve typed up the first draft and am part way through the re-drafting and editing process, with the help of several wonderful, dedicated friends. Without these guys, I would’ve long since lost the will to live over the enormity of the whole project. (From the bottom of my heart, I thank each of you for all the support, encouragement and feedback you’ve given me so far.)

The challenge for 2015, with the help of these beautiful people, and a couple of others, who are still to be drafted in and don’t know it yet, is to get my book published.

I think, I might have finally conquered my fear of letting people read what I write so 2014’s challenge can be deemed a success on that score. The blog and reviews and all the other mischief, including the occasional photography foray, will keep going  into next year and beyond, I hope.

Now Christmas beckons…guess I’d better turn my attention to that for a short while. Time to write a list!

That elusive hour – have you seen it?

How hard is it to take an hour or two out of the day just for yourself?

I’m not necessarily meaning an hour to do nothing. In this case it was time to write the next blog and to begin work on the third part of The Imp (which is still in the pen.)

This week it has been nigh on impossible and I even had two days holiday from work which in theory should have made it easier.

Someone is definitely stealing hours out of my day when I’m not in the office.

Let’s start at last weekend- it was more or less a creative write off. A sleepover for seven hormonal screaming teenage girls put paid to the majority of it. You couldn’t hear yourself think in here at times! The remainder of Sunday and Monday disappeared under a huge mountain of laundry – the washing machine had died the previous Wednesday and its replacement arrived to a warm welcome on Saturday afternoon. Cue several days of washing and the house smelling like “the steamie” as I tried to get it all dried and ironed.

For a short while Monday night was looking hopeful but, no, it was interrupted by having to chauffeur Girl Child home from a friend’s house at the opposite side of town.

Tuesday  had already been pre-planned and I spent a lovely few hours catching up with a friend over coffee and lunch. On the drive home (I only got lost once) the weather closed in and, by the time I reached home, there was a pleading message from Girl Child looking for a lift home. Cue another fourteen mile round trip to collect her.

I had just settled down thinking that finally I had found the elusive hour when Boy Child messaged me looking for a lift home from the station. Cue another five mile round trip in sleet and snow to rescue him.

Wednesday saw me back at work. Thursday was Girl Child’s birthday so that obviously took priority for the evening. It was worth it to see the look on her face when she received her gifts.

Valentine’s Day, Friday, dawned and, after a busy day at the salt mine, I headed home to cook dinner and to do more laundry- where does it all come from? After a “romantic family meal for four plus cat” the Big Green Gummi Bear and Boy Child retired to the living room to watch a DVD (Planet of the Apes in case you were wondering). Girl Child slipped back into her bat cave.

I’d finally found my elusive hour!

I poured glass of wine, fetched my notebook and pen and settled myself in the warmth of the kitchen with my iPod. Bliss for a whole fifteen minutes then the cat came and sat on my notebook, purring pleadingly for attention.

I surrendered.

If any of you ever find my elusive “hour to myself without interruption” can you please wrap it up carefully and mail it to me. It’s a very precious thing.