Tidbits - the written word
Snippets and musings on the written word
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The Value of Turnips
A few years ago, in 2013 to be precise, I created a tale about turnips and money. I came across it again recently and thought it deserved a re-post. I should say that Abi-Eshu, who is the protagonist in this story, is a fictional character from Ancient Mesopotamia, circa 3500BC. (Not to be confused with Abi-Eshuh, the 8th king of the 1st Dynasty of Babylon who reigned for 28 years from c. 1648–1620 BC or 1711–1684 BC) Abi-Eshu bears no relation to any living person – or does he? Do read on! A friend of mine came back from a London seminar this week, with some startling facts and figures.…
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A nice Cup of Tea…
The recent controversial news from America regarding salt in tea, using a kettle versus microwaving (eek! What?!) I thought as a Brit, I’d pen a few key points that make tea the number one drink for all occasions using a kettle (in my opinion – as a Brit, I am not pushy LOL!) My thoughts when: 1. A friend pops in feeling glum me. I’ll pop the kettle on, sit down and relax for a bit 2. A stressful situation is getting out of hand… me. Calm down, have a nice cup of tea 3. I really don’t know what do next… me. Have a cup of tea, it’ll help…
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A typical writing day…
Here I am upstairs, in my lovely, fit for purpose writing room. Computer on – hmm, so many emails – must ignore. Himalayan Crystal Salt lamp on, to keep me calm (a Christmas Gift) Now, open file. File is saved where? Dropbox/iCloud/Desktop/got it! Re-read the beginning of chapter two and spend twenty minutes or more changing one word. Prepare to begin a new chapter. Big old Dog wants to go out Big old Dog wants to come in Small dog barking at front door – at delivery person Now I am here, I may as well save them the trouble of putting the parcels in the plastic box I put…
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The Real Ghost Girl
Having drawn on my own childhood for part of the Ghost Girl at Angel Cottage, I thought it only fair to relate one of the events that led me to write this story in the first place. It was a warm summer’s day back in the early sixties. I was probably about 6 years old or perhaps younger, playing on the stone steps set in my Grandparents’ back garden, in the village of Writtle. Cottages lay either side of us. My grandparents’ house was set back from the road, behind wrought iron railings. (A sad tale (tail) occurred here, during the war when the railings were removed for the war…
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Memories pre- lockdown
Despite the snow we had today and the long wait for Spring, vaccines and freedom, it is always a treat to find a memory that has lain forgotten amongst my files. Today, I found such a memory, written during one of our past visits to Portugal…reading it it makes me thirsty for more! ******************************************************************************************* Ragged palm leaves feathered against the cobalt sky, a crisp, white sun refusing to budge from its perch on the spine of next door’s roof. Heat bringing rivulets of sweat and hot rasping breath with it as it travels through the villa. There is no wind nor a kind and understanding summer breeze to relieve us.…
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The Ghost Girl at Angel Cottage
I just love the cover of my revamped novel, The Ghost Girl at Angel Cottage, created by my talented daughter, Zoe, of ZoeBarkerDesign. As Christmas approaches, I just wanted to showcase it here. It is available on Amazon as a paperback and ebook. The Ghost Girl at Angel Cottage is a time slip novel set in 1943, 1963 and 2012. I have tried to be as truthful to the times as I can and researched references to real events before including them. I am, first and foremost, a story-teller and I hope I can entertain you with this multi-layered tale. (Previously published as Once Upon a Christmas Eve.) All that…
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Happy Birthday John!
Here is another Photograph I found recently, which includes our dog, Sherry: Today 29th June, is John’s birthday. He would have been 58 today. Here is a post I first published in 2011 for World AIDS Day. The photograph I refer to in the text is one I have lodged in my memory but sadly, I do not have a copy, I believe it resides in my mother’s archives. June 1966: The boy in the photograph wears a cowboy hat and carries a toy gun. Feet planted firmly apart, he stands at the opening to a brand new, white tent. The latter is a birthday present. Today he is five-years-old.…
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Sail Boats and other such things…
I just overheard an interesting snippet from a morning TV programme, “A research team has found that a 20 minute walk every day can add years to your life,” Leaving aside the fact that most people know this anyway or at least, suspect it, it was good to hear. Confirmation that something one enjoys is good for one, is always welcome. I have to ask though, was this research programme set up just to establish this fact or was it part of a larger programme and this gem just one of many conclusions reached? I should not mock. Where would we be without research? In caves, I daresay. After all,…
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Cabbages and Fresh Cream (or Abi-Eshu and his Dream)
If Abi-Eshu were here today, he would no doubt be astounded by our dependence on the internet. He would balk at the amount of time we spend on Google+, Facebook, Pinterest, Twitter and the rest. Email and Snapchat would be something he could not even begin to understand. The ease with which we communicate with one another these days was not even dreamed about back in *Abi-Eshu’s day. Or is that so? Circa 3500BC Abi-Eshu has been to market in the cart his father, Abi-Karu, has built. The cart rolls along on Abi’s latest invention, the wheel. On his outward journey, the cart held 4 reams of fine cloth, woven…
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Dear Me
A letter to my 2013 self Dear Me, I am writing this from the future. It is 2020 and I am sitting in my study, looking at a shelf that is practically bending beneath the weight of published novels—my name on each. Wow! The first one I spy, I remember starting way back in 2012 through NaNoWriMo. I made a pretty good job of that but by June 2013, so much had happened to thwart its progress, it languished, forgotten, on my computer for a while. I recall that I was a wee bit tired and felt powerless. Remember how I had to weigh socks and could not lift more…
