Living Between the Lines
A wry look at family life
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Magic Boots
Memories are funny things. They pop into one’s head at the most odd times and for no apparent reason. How wonderful the good ones can be though, and how they can make one smile. As I trudge through the woods with the dogs this morning, the legacy of a night’s rain drip-dripping on my head from the overhanging branches, an early morning sun barely visible, I am glad of the wellington boots encasing my feet, rubber boots that squelch through the mud and wet. Heedless of the water-logged ground, I splish-splash on my way. The Duke of Wellington stumbled, quite literally, on a great idea when he modified the original…
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Print versus e-book
For some time I have hovered on the fence regarding e-readers versus print. Well, ‘hovered’ may not be quite the correct term. I have always believed and still believe that the hard copy book beats the e-reader hands down. I mean, what can possibly replace the feel of a good book in one’s hand? What can emulate the pages that waft excitement as you turn them and allow one to breathe in the aroma of crisp print-on-parchment? (I get fanciful now). Furthermore, a hard copy never needs re-charging and sits, tantalizingly inviting, on the bookshelf, begging to be read. Despite this love of the printed material, I do possess both…
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Quirky Inns and Karaoke
We have a couple of particularly quirky pubs near us. One has to be visited at Christmas time, without fail. This pub, run by a garrulous gay couple with theatrical leanings, is a veritable feast for the eyes, a chocolate box of taste, bearing testimony to every knickknack and piece of memorabilia ever created. (That is the impression it creates as one walks in through the door) We are drawn to it for those special occasions when atmosphere and experience is everything. My eldest daughter has held her birthday dinner there for the past few years, ever since the day we turned up for a quiet evening drink and were…
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Mummy-brain is a long term condition DJ!
I was listening to ‘Pop Masters’ on BBC Radio 2 this morning. This is not a competition I am ever likely to enter. Musical facts and dates are just not things I can reliably recall to order. My prowess at musical quizzes stops short of being able to name much more than the winner of ‘Eurovision’ in 1967 (Sandy Shaw) I was ten, I liked ‘Puppet on a String”. The DJ introduced the first contestant. “If I do badly, I think I can claim to have ‘Mummy-Brain’ even though my daughter is seven months old,” declared the latter. The DJ was sceptical, “Can one have ‘mummy-brain’ after the event? Isn’t…
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Steampunk Goggles (the mind boggles)
My research has just taken a new twist. A temporary twist I might add, hastened by a request from my late sister’s son. My lovely nephew, he with Asperger’s and a deep interest in Star Wars, Games Workshop and Re-enactment role play, stumped me this morning. Last week he requested a green cloak, a two-man army surplus pop-up tent a flash memory card and a foam hammer (the latter he is saving up for himself). All these items seemed easy to find and I could visualize them in my head. He has been craving a Classic Ford Crown Victoria Police Interceptor P71 for some time and his requests do not…
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Having the Right Tools
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A World Without…
I dreamt I had had my iPhone and purse stolen, two possessions integral to my daily life and needs. The dream was surreal, as most dreams are, in that I was stranded at Waterloo Station, without means to propel myself home again. As is the way with dreams, I soon found myself in a taxi worrying how I would pay the fare. This worry was compounded by the driver appearing to lose his way. I duly noted that there was no SatNav in the car and the driver relied on a walkie-talkie for communication with his base. It was all, most strange. Stranger still, when I eventually arrived home, (Taxi…
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Pandora’s Box
“Research is a waste of time – get on with the writing” ? I spotted the headline on the cover of ‘Writer’s Forum’. If you are like me, you will have read that line and bristled at the idea that all that precious research you have clocked up, might be classed as a waste of time. I read the article and of course, Jenny Colgan was not saying that all research is useless, rather, her argument was that we are all in danger of getting bogged down in the research at the expense of the writing at times. Never has this been more true than this week. In a…
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Tea with Charles Dickens
This week marks the 200th birthday of Charles Dickens. Just about everyone knows the name, even if they may have never read his work. We were introduced to his books in school, and some of us retain a life long attachment to them. Who, when reading those books, has not shed a tear at the story of Little Dorrit or Oliver Twist or been at once saddened and enchanted by A Christmas Carol? Disney may have made A Christmas Carol, his own but the original story lives on. These gems, Pickwick Papers, Great Expectations – all are favourites of mine. There was of course, more to the man than just…
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With the best of intentions…
They say the way to Hell is paved with good intentions…so too is the way to a writer’s keyboard! This morning, I am determined to finish and publish the post I have earlier prepared. The morning begins in its now customary, crisp, cold, February way with temperatures way below freezing. The perfect weather for a bracing walk in the woods with the dogs, I think. This, I am sure, will set me up for the day’s writing I have promised myself all week. Things do indeed start well. We arrive early, before the main stream of dog walkers and after the really early birds. The temperatures allow one the luxury…
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The Irresistibly Sweet Blog Award
It’s been a while since I received an award of any kind but what a lovely way to start the New Year! Thank you to Teresa Ashby who has passed this award to me though, I confess, I have never thought of myself as being irresistibly sweet. I have been told I have a sharp tongue at times (I call it wit) and perhaps that is why my blog describes itself as a wry look at life. It is an interesting thought, though, being irresistible. I suppose everyone is irresistible to someone or something, in some way. I was evidently irresistible to the young man with Down’s Syndrome who approached me…
