2012

I have a good feeling about 2012 - not that it will be a year of unmitigated glory - but a year when I can finally do what I am meant to do - to shed some of my frustrations, and some of my weight - and make progress.  2011 has been a "square wheel" year - this is an image I have of my life - that its mechanism runs on a square wheel - so it tends to get stuck for long periods.  It takes an enormous amount of effort to push the wheel onto the next face - 2011 has been a year of herculean efforts, and now I think I have pushed the wheel forward and the new face/phase can get going - the next few days are slightly "square wheel days" since I am still bogged down in Christmas socialising.... the last "at Home" tomorrow - 8 people last night, and it was very jolly, then drinks at Eyvor and Michael's on Monday and then I think we will collapse - all ready for the new term...

I don't think my "good feeling" is wishful thinking, it's a real sense of changes in the air, it's a grounded feeling, not a Neptunian projection.   I do feel 2011 only had 9 months though, the last 3 seem to have been spent in a fog of ill-health/anxiety and stress.

Today I finally dared to look at the bank account - it's not quite as bad as I feared, and I don't think we'll need to do much food shopping for a while (although some new meat would be nice).  However, M has already invoiced for his last, small piece of work, and has no immediate work to start on.  This is worrying, it means things will get very tricky in February - but perhaps we can borrow something from Ned (again!) which I don't want to do - however, I think things will be improving financially within a few months, and the income from students will be good.  I am a bit hyper on carbs, but tonight's supper was claret, stilton and walnuts - which was very enjoyable. 

Grrrrr!

Mark has been pretty good over Christmas - although I did snap at him yesterday.  Today - after a long discussion about our respective ways of thinking about things, and an offering of a pot of daffodils - very nice! - he revealed that he'd excelled himself in idiocy.  He took a cheque my father had made out to me in my married name (which I don't use) to the bank.  I signed it on the back in my married name and told him to pay it in like that.   For some reason he took it upon himself to change my name on it, and initial the change... it will bounce and somebody will be charged (probably my father).  I wish he would just do what I asked, then if things go wrong they will be my fault and I will learn that this signing on the back thing no longer works.  Now it will definitely go wrong, because essentially he has tried to forge someone else's cheque - delaying another much needed payment. 

Finn said sweetly "never mind, maybe you could use his cheque instead." I explained that we did not use our present cheques to buy ourselves treats - rather to get through the demands of the household.   I think we will have a moratorium on eating for January - that should save some money.

It shouldn't matter, but his stupidity in practical matters is unfortunately compounded by an apparent need to ignore instructions - why?  It was my cheque, what gave him the right to write on it, especially when I'd told him what I'd like him to do.  He thinks he knows better, he doesn't.  "What do you mean your father's bank will reject it?" he said.   "Well - where do you think cheques go when you pay them into the bank?  Up into the aether as an offering to the gods?"

The true story of Christmas is this:  I worked bloody hard, the boys were helpful and Mark worked hard too on making fires and moving furniture and making up beds.  I worked hard on 24th, 25th, 26th and 27th.  On 28th we went to the Turner with Pa and when I came home I was knackered, but still had to make supper for Chris who came to visit Mark.  While Chris was here Mark went off into Markworld - a place of intense discussion about Italy, archaeology, developers, gothic architecture and so on.  It's all good stuff but like the lotos it makes him forget about other people and things - so no drink for me, no help etc.   I was getting tireder and tireder - I made a Christmas pie - and a fruit salad, we had supper, I went to bed.   Today was meant to be a rest day - but every time I try to do something he's talked to me intensely to prevent me reading, peppered me with ceaseless questions to prevent me writing, and done something so annoying and grating that I have been unable to watch and enjoy the Simpsons.   Shortly we will have to go out to a party, which I'm sure will be quite enjoyable, but I know he won't enjoy it, and he's already getting shirty about it.  

He says he hates being interrogated at parties about what he does (people love to meet a real archaeologist!).  I hate having to listen to people with strong opinions who can't discuss them, but like to churn them out... this is very likely to happen to this evening - if I am not subject to persistent monologues from men... I don't want to go out, I want to be ALONE.   I want to study and think and be able to concentrate on things.  Fat chance at Christmas.

Reading List

It's not exactly a new year resolution, but it's connected with my belief that 2012 is going to be about writing, and this is a sense that I will have to read a great deal of non-fiction and "hard stuff".  I have just started reading Teofilo Ruiz's book The Terror of History - not a particularly hard book - but I need to read research, rather than froth.

The Ruiz is interesting, but he's left something out, which I will have to return to, as it is now time for tea - followed by a drinks party at Alex's....

I feel pleased that today I have just about tidied up the desk in my bedroom... so I can use the laptop here.  It's the beginning of the new system.

Only Writing

I have started a new blog - this blog was originally meant to be a marketing tool for my writing, but has failed dismally.  Instead, I have a writing/marketing sort of blog called "Only Writing" on which details of my works and their progress can be found. 

Why did I call it that?  Because "Only writing" is the wrong answer to "what are you doing?".   If I am writing and someone asks me that I reply "I am writing, please go away and don't disturb me."  Or "Sod off and stop reading over my shoulder" etc.   This year there will be virtually nothing more important than writing. Whatever happens - et terra ruat - writing will be done, the next book will be completed, others will be fiddled with.


This blog can now be used to continue to offer cynical world-weary, optimistic, bitchy and Pollyannish comments about the passing scene - the world in general, the local community in particular.  My major problem will be what to do about local projects, which I now wish to extricate myself from.   We shall see.

Christmas Day

Well, it's over.   It went very well: we went to Midnight Mass - enjoyable, lots of carols, large congregation and then bed.  We got up early, had stockings, tea in bed, then I started the turkey etc.  We had a light breakfast - and then we did some more cooking - Ned helped to do the "pigs in blankets" - I did all the veg, and the stuffings and everything else was more or less ready.   

We went out to the beach just after midday - at first I was a bit disappointed, because didn't see anyone I knew - but then found Kai and Claire, Verity, Anette, Fran & Steven and Kirstie so we had a jolly time, and the Aldi Cava was surprisingly nice and dry.   The boys wandered about taking photos... and then we went home.  I carried on cooking - Pa and Coells came - more drinks etc. and Coells helped with the carrots (which I'd turned on without realising - and burned them) and cream for the chocolate roulade/log...

The food was very nice - although the sprouts were a bit water-logged.  The potatoes were superb... the turkey good, so generally very nice.  We ate masses - the new style christmas pudding was deemed the best by me - I have now found THE PUDDING RECIPE... it was light and fruity (figs, raisins and almonds) and really edible...this will now be the recipe for the generations. 

Then we all collapsed and sat like pythons in the sitting room for the rest of the evening - watched tv and generally behaved sluggishly.  We had nothing else to eat or drink - except some chocolates and malt whisky (and some tea at one point).

I suppose that counts as a satisfactory Christmas Day. Can't help feeling it seems a bit complacent somehow.

Christmas Eve 2

This is continuing to be a good day - I've done things I've been "meaning to do" for weeks - ironed the table cloths, prepared various things, formed a plan for tidying up the house!  And now I am feeling happy because I had a bit of a work session with the boys - got all the food out of the freezer, and dealt with the stollen... and saw that I had done a great many things already and didn't have much left to do.   So Finn made a fresh supply of fudge (coffee and walnut) and Ned made more cheese and walnut biscuits to give as presents.   And what is there to do now?

Make some truffles - and do something about a present for Gina, Ned's girlfriend - and something for the Chapmans perhaps... all these tricky delicate issues... I could make the Boxing Day trifle, and prep the veg and the other stuffing and stare at the turkey - but really it can wait a bit longer.  It's 4 and getting dark and we are listening to the King's College Carol Service.  It makes me happy, it used to make me tearful, but not this year.  So what can go wrong?  (not enough presents for someone probably...)  Birthday presents for Ben and Coellie can wait....

The major issue really is - shall I cook the ham in coke or ginger beer?  Or just the usual thing? I wonder.  The tongue is bubbling away in some flat cider - we are using up everything in old bottles... and finding great treasures: people give us port and we don't drink it - we love it, but it's a killer... so there's tons of it.  We'll have to have some this year.  We also have madeira, marsala but no sherry... strange.  No matter, we do have some evil half bottle of the v.v. sweet Pedro Ximenez.. which is like drinking muscovado sugar. 

Christmas Eve

I love Christmas Eve - if one's reasonably well organised - which I am this year, or rather the food is well organised, not sure about presents.  They keep arriving from friends, and we don't usually give friends presents for financial reasons, but because of the boys people tend to give us unfeasible quantities of sweets and biscuits... sometimes we repay with homemade fudge and truffles - but not sure if quince cheese (the local version of membrillo) is quite festive enough.  Perhaps I should go and buy some Manchego to eat with it.  Need to do a bit of snap tidying/wrapping today I think...so I will have a few return offerings for people.

And I also love Christmas Eve this year because I've had the operation, and the general anaesthetic and all my fears were of course ungrounded, and I have recovered relatively quickly, and although I spent the afternoon in bed listening to the radio and doing sudoku (it's a great compulsive thing to do with the brain while the interesting bit is otherwise engaged.   Some people like to do things with their hands when engaging with media, but I tend to do sudoku or Spider Solitaire! - terrible confession.)

So I am feeling really cheerful, and despite what they said in the hospital about the danger of fainting at the stove actually, I think it will be all right.  So a bit of light cooking - with the boys - could be great.  I might do the tongue.  I could probably do the trifle for Boxing Day - if I can make room in the fridge.   We have put a lot of things in the cellar - but the weather is really warm 11-12 degrees - so even the cellar isn't as cold as it should be at this time of year...

Thinking ahead, what the house needs is a thorough post Christmas sort out...I've got a box of stuff I set aside for a charity in the Gambia 3 years ago - haven't delivered it yet.  And we need to make room for the Colombian student we are going to have for 6 months.

Ned's had a conditional offer from his first choice university - UAE - it would be great if he went there - it's in Norwich - where Jeremy, his godfather lives, and Marge and John, and Chris, Mark's friend - so we could see them when we visit him, and perhaps he'd get to know Jeremy better.

Gosh - I really feel quite happy.  The operation was clearly hanging over me, but I've had some interesting results... first I haven't got to the menopause yet - my hormone levels are still have a good way to go.... so some of this bleeding has just been simply good old fashioned irregular bleeding associated with this.  They have fitted a coil which contains progesterone, this should balance the oestrogen which I'm producing, and this reduces a risk of uterine/ovarian cancer - as well as (I hope) discouraging the fibroids... which flourish where there's plenty of oestrogen.  We'll see - apparently if this doesn't work, it's a hysterectomy, which I admit I have a reall horror of...

Joke of the day:  As I was being wheeled into the anaesthetic room - "Have you had a pregnancy test?"
"No."  "We like to have one - perhaps we should...."
"No, it's entirely unlikely..."

Oh dear, have I become one of those middle-aged women....?   Time to get my mojo back I think.  But first, Christmas!

Displacement activity

There is so much to do - and all I want to do is write about it, because it makes me feel I am doing something.   I have made the pastry for the mince pies, and looked at the stollen recipe - and tomorrow I will make them, along with sausages, spinach and cheese filo pastries, devils on horseback and foccacia... I will also have to do the gravad lax - and tidy the dining room so that people can come in here and help themselves to drinks.

I keep finding things I haven't got: olives, pasta, etc. but then I remember that the shops will be open again one day and I will be able to deal with everything then.

So, now I am going to clear the dining room table and tag all the remaining presents and socialise with Ned & Finn...and then, when M comes back from the carol concert we might have a glass of wine and relax.

Flickers

Where do thoughts come from?  I know that sounds like a child's question - but I cannot resolve how certain thoughts insinuate themselves.  Yesterday afternoon when I was trying to organise myself I couldn't stop thinking about someone.  I wanted to, but whenever I established a new train of thought, he would seep up through the cracks and change the direction of my thinking.  Perhaps it is when one is wool-gathering - things just crop up.  I know that certain places of ideas are linked to certain things - e.g. if someone said Blenheim, one might think of Marlborough - or Winston Churchill, or Capability Brown - but what about people who suddennly crop up without any particular route... is it telepathy?  Sometimes these thoughts occur and a little later one has an email or a phone call from them.   

And what is that other (related?) phenomenon when unconscious thoughts of someone just ripple through one's mind as one is preparing to sleep?  I associate a lot of this with times when I've been in love, but it is disturbing when it happens apparently spontaneously.  Perhaps my mind's just shedding futile ideas?

Christmas Jazz

Last night went out to see a fantastic jazz band - the Harbour Jazz Orchestra - led by Paul Booth - a wonderful saxophonist.  Stupidly I didn't reserve tickets, but Eric (Paul's father who runs the club) found us seats next to the band - so we saw them from the back!   There were a number of arrangements of Christmas songs: Winterwonderland, the Christmas Song, White Christmas, We Three Kings, Silent Night and a fantastic version of "God Rest you Merry Gentlemen".   Interspersed were some more standards: The Man I love and a wonderful BirdLife -which was just so exciting.  Incredible the effect that 11 people working together can have - each of them good in him/herself - together quite sensational. 

The setting was in a very bland hotel - the Pegwell Bay Hotel - an extraordinary building which has been done up in typical dreary swirly-carpeted hotel style.  The room we were in has a terrace - which you can stand on and look out over Pegwell Bay.  Since it was night you could see the lights of Deal and lots of ships, lightships and one or two of the French lighthouses, and some French skyglow.  Very atmospheric - and cold.  I didn't drink, which I was pleased about - a St Clements is a nice drink if you don't have it all the time.

Today's Christmas tasks:  all the ones I wrote about the other day, plus cleaning the fridge to receive the vast shopping delivery.    Our first "At Home" evening is tomorrow - so need to prepare a few snacks for that (sausages, mince pies, devils on horseback, spinach and fetta pastries, bits of stollen, some foccacia perhaps - and lots of crisps and mulled wine).  We had a very successful birthday supper last night and Ned's girlfriend Gina joined us.  I made the famous coconut cake - which the boys just adore and the brown bread ice cream, and an exemplary steak and kidney pudding - Ned, mirabile dictu - said he really liked it, and ate all the kidney - Finn left his. 

Not getting on top of Christmas

About half an hour of difficult phone calls from the hospital about WHERE the operation will take place.   I get cold and snotty and horribly rational (why am I so unpleasant?) and then realise it is because I am actually horribly frightened of general anaesthetics... and wish I didn't have to have one.  Having been told it was essential I had the op in the main theatre to be near ICU in case anything went wrong with the anaesthetic, I have now been told that it will be fine for me to have it in the Day Surgery Unit - so I am now slightly worried that not all will be so well.  However, I have been reassured by Dr Ishmael (he's the one to sue if I die!) that it will be fine, I am now back where I was before... not by the ICU - but on the same date (there was talk of arranging a different date).   Last time I was in hospital I wrote a letter to M and the boys "in case" - because I was the closest to death I had ever been.  I suppose I ought to do another one... but I don't want to be melodramatic. 

I'm sure it's all right - it's not major surgery, no cuts will be made, no wounds, so why a general - why can't they do it with a local or an epidural... Anyway, the distress caused by these calls has delayed me further, so now M and I are mopping up the outstanding Christmas cards instead.... chasing up all the lost addressses etc.   Eeek.  Must make the ice cream and the cake at least today.  We are going out to see the incredible Harbour Jazz Orchestra later.

My Week with Marilyn was very enjoyable - lots of lush production values, I loved Judy Dench as Sibyl Thorndike - who knew she was such a lefty?  And Branagh's Olivier was great, as was Michelle Williamson as Monroe.  Usual hordes of great Brit character actors: Dougray Scott, Michael Kitchen, Jim Carter, Zoe Wannamaker, Dominic Cooper, Simon Russell Beale - I started to wonder which British Character Actor was not in it (Jim Broadbent and Timothy Spall chiefly).

Getting on Top of Christmas

Yesterday was M's official birthday, his mother, brother and sister in law came and we had a very happy day.  The food was great (of course! she said modestly) and we had some very nice wine that Polly had bought us last year... we've eked out that case well, and the next one's due on Christmas Day!

M's actual birthday is tomorrow - and we have his presents - although not his card - I've lost it!  I was going to make croissants, but as we're going to the cinema tonight to see My Week with Marilyn he isn't going to get homemade croissants.     I will make the steak and kidney pie and brown bread ice cream.  The traditional meal!   But the boys want me to make a cake - I was going to make a chocolate and orange one, but they want a coconut one - he'd probably prefer it, so I shall do one.

I did some shopping today, and wrapped all the outstanding presents - but I haven't done any cooking yet.   Should marzipan the cake today really.

I had begun to fret about not having ordered a turkey - and then realised I could buy one on-line from Ocado.  I feel sorry I haven't bought stuff from Hazell's the good local butcher - but I didn't get around to ordering it in time... So now that I have ordered turkey and gin I feel pretty ok about the shopping. 

So all I have to do is:

hand - deliver a few cards, assemble Coellie and Ben's food parcels, get Finn to make more fudge, and

make marzipan, ice cake, make mince pies, stollen etc etc and remember to defrost salmon to make gravadlax, cook ham and tongue, do some foodie things for our "At Home" on 22nd - and, oh, just a few little bits and pieces.  Damn, better stop blogging and start cooking again.

Night Thoughts

I have been awake for an hour and a half; I stop myself worrying about specifics (money mostly) by playing Spider Solitaire while listening to the BBC World Service.  It's rather more enjoyable usually than Radio 4, because Radio 4 news is all about the UK and European and US economy - which simply reinforces one's financial anxiety.   The World Service however was not consoling this morning - since there were news stories of a saddening nature.

However, I then felt I ought to think about the positive things that this year's upheavals have brought.  The arab spring ought to bring about some better results (although we will all feel differently if some really dire Islamic parties take power).  Is that it?  There must be other good news - but in my currently depressed state I cannot think of any.

I am not worrying about my operation, and biopsy - is that because they are too worrying?  No, I think it's because I don't have a gut feeling that this is going to "go bad".   Also because it would just be too ludicrous for me to get cancer too... there isn't any in my family, I don't think I've had any particular experiences which suggest I might be prone to it.   If I didn't get cervical cancer when I was younger (and had a partner with genital warts) then I doubt if I've mysteriously developed it now.  Of course, there's uterine and ovarian and endometrial to worry about too... but I don't.  

I am vaguely worried about Christmas - whether I will get enough rest and relaxation.  I am already feeling a bit tired, but have a plan!  I will cook this morning and then take a break this afternoon - lie down and read.  This is something I never do nowadays.  I should just read and stop fiddling about with the computer, pretending to be doing stuff.

At the moment I am reading The Victorians by ANWilson which is deeply enjoyable and has performed a mind shift.  I now understand why it was not a completely despicable thing to be a Tory/Conservative in the 19thC and why the Liberals were not necessarily a "Good Thing", since they tended to be laissez-faire urban mercantile capitalists - whose interest in modern ideas was often a bit like Henry Ford's "what's good for business is good for America" - ie not always interested in what was good for people, but what was good for themselves and their commercial interests.   I am only surprised because I actually did O-level Victorian History and I remember none of this.  I wondered what I did remember: the 1832 Reform act and the Chartists, the Irish Potato Famine, late 19thC social reforms, such as licensing laws etc.   I don't remember anything about Crimea, I think we did the Boer Wars and the Jameson Raid... but the book is a revelation and full of juicy anecdotes.  I have begun to like Carlyle and think it might be time for me to finally read Sartor Resartus  which I have owned for about 30 years!

Christmas Shopping

Well, with 10 days to Christmas (or is it 9) I have finally made some inroads on the shopping.  I have been cooking for a week or so, and have shoved into the freezer a load of chestnut stuffing, some red cabbage, a chocolate roulade for the boys (they don't like Christmas pudding).   I have bought a ham, and frozen it and industrial quantities of sausages - some to accompany the turkey - others to eat at parties...

I had this idea that it might be nicer to have people drop in casually over the Christmas season - advertised that we would be "At Home" on certain dates.  Then I suddennly panicked - will they all expect vast quantities of food - probably not, but since I usually make a lot of food.... Today I rebelled a bit, I thought, let me blend with the furniture for a change - let me not stand out by having made endless efforts for these events.  So I decided I would not do more than 5-6 plates of food for these things - and make a vat of mulled wine and have some plain alternatives - and hope for the best.  We could crack open some of our weird and wonderful drinks - and we still seem to have plenty of vermouth in the cellar.

Now I've calmed down a bit - I need a few presents for kids - and a mother in law pressie - and perhaps something small for my father - (he has a book coming)... something for the boys to give him (fudge/truffles) and probably something for the boys to wear.   The trouble is, I sort of promised them winter coats - and I am not sure if we can afford them...

What shocked me today was how much money I spent - I realise that it's the same every year - we usually go to France and buy loads of nice food and booze - but this year we haven't, so we have had to buy food and booze here... rather more expensive for booze.  Still, we don't need much more now except a turkey and some fruit and veg - so  nothing major.  It's almost over....

Apart from the cooking of course: mince pies, stollen etc. and perhaps a few brownies, should I have made a cake for Pa?  Could he have half of ours?  So many things to think of.

This is probably the mindless wittering category - no matter, the exterior political situation is so grim and upsetting that I cannot bear to comment on it.

That Eclipse...

OK, here's some astrology.  The eclipse - which happens at full moon and is believed bring about a crisis or the end of an issue... in this case it happened in my 8th house which suggests the issue would be involved in money shared with other people, e.g. property, inheritance, benefits, grants, and.... tax.  So on Friday, when I was feeling nice and sanguine, we got a letter from HMRC inviting us to pay them £2,248 immediately, or suffer "distraint of your possessions" i.e. they could come and take our goods to sell them.  M suggested borrowing from his mother - she told us to call Tom, his brother, and he suggested we  borrow from Ned.  So we borrowed from Ned - it will take a few days for the fund to clear, but then we will have sorted out our tax for the year, and we have some money ready for January, so all we have to worry about is July now.  We set up a standing order to repay Ned (with interest!) - and all is well(ish).  So that was the eclipse...

Now, I am normally sanguine about retrograde Mercury - one copes, but this year it seems to have come with particularly heavy boots on, rather than the usual winged sandals.... not only has our major client cheque this month been delayed (it still hasn't arrived), but the tax letter was 8 days late, my computer has broken down, and is still being repaired, and of course the car was still off the road.  Today Mark went up to London to do some work - only to find they hadn't sorted out the necessary paperwork.  I haven't been able to Christmas shop (as predicted by Susan Miller) because either I haven't had a car (necessary for carrying sacks of potatoes, logs etc.) or, as now, haven't had the money - until the cheque clears!  Roll on Wednesday when it goes direct again!

The other bad news over the period is that our friend D (L's husband) has got bowel cancer - they think it is curable, was caught early.  He's having the operation on Friday.   Too much bad news at the moment - that's the fourth close, young friend with cancer in the last 18 months...it must be ghastly for her, but perhaps like me she doesn't imagine the worst if she can avoid it.  More concerned about how his freelance work will be effected at present (I know the feeling).

Given that Susan Miller has been ludicrously accurate this month let's hope all the good stuff she proposed for the rest of the month comes true!   No news about the book - but I've been thinking a lot more about 17 Years.  I'm thinking it could work.

We got the car back - and I immediately celebrated by going and buying in some Christmas supplies.

The Eclipse!

I have great hopes of this eclipse - usually a turning point of some kind - this one is meant to be a slightly sinister one for me - but it could be good.  I am still waiting for that nice agent to return my book with regrets, but what I actually hope is that she will make some suggestions for changes which I can incorporate rapidly and then start the new year with a powerful attack on Conscience.  I love the Romantic Feminist but it's time for it to be finished - otherwise 17 years will never get written, but at least if I have an agent, I will be able to get some advice about the kind of weird structures I am thinking of.... running parallel alternative scenarios perhaps... can't help feeling it would be too confusing.  But it would be a challenge to do it.  And it might be a good way of getting more insight into the characters, and seeing how they change through their different choices.   I fear that it could begin to look like one of those novels that has been influenced by computer games, which isn't the idea - it's more the idea of trying to incorporate life's "what ifs?" into a narrative.  I expect it's been done before, but I'd like to have a bash at it.  Conscience is a much more traditional novel - which is right for it's subject and period... If I can afford it, I'd like to start doing some regular research at the Imperial War museum, but there's a new website with lots of old papers online, so that might save a lot of effort, even if one has to pay - it's £35 to go to London, so it might be worth it.

Night Flights

The local airport - which has an extremely long runway - since it was designed to help ailing fighter planes land during World War 2 - has been proposing night flights for some time.  They are not allowed to fly them, but in fact we have been having regular night flights for some months, the other night it was an Egyptian Cargo Flight just before midnight, this morning was something else (which I slept through - I do occasionally).  The local, Conservative, council supports the airport operator - but last night there was a vote of confidence and a new, Labour leader was elected.  Will this make a difference?  I hope so, everyone seems to think so, but I fear that the last Labour council wasn't particularly heroic - and whether this new council will do any better remains to be seen, however, everyone on the forum is behaving as if he were Barack Obama (in the days when he was Barack Obama...) or Tony Blair (in the days before he became Prime minister).

Oh well, it's better than the old regime I guess.

An early Christmas present?

Went to hospital today for the pre-operative assessment.  They decided I needed to be in a different operating theatre - one close to intensive care in case there were problems with the anaesthetic (well - you know what it did to michael Jackson).  This means I need to have the operation on 23rd - 2 days before Christmas.  There's never a good time obviously, but it means I won't be able to cook for 2 days before the Great Day!   Interesting.... I suppose I'll just have to be incredibly organised - and indeed I have been deep in the spreadsheets for days, planning which tasks will be done on which days. 

With luck the car will be back on the weekend, which will herald a vast outburst of shopping... even so, it's going to be tricky.

I think we are looking at an interesting time - 22nd - drinks party here (no alcohol 24 hours before op), 23rd 8.00 am operation... 23rd pm - go home and go to bed.  24th Stay in bed.  25th leap up refreshed to cook large dinner for everyone... it'll be fine.   "Can your husband cook?" the nurse asked.   "No."   Well, only fry ups and spagh. carbonara.... It just means adjusting all the timings - I'll have to cook the ham on 26th and we can have it hot - and do the tongue well in advance, and the gravadlax - but this is not for the blog - back to the spreadsheets!

I just hope that the next drinks party on 27th won't be too much like hard work... and that Ned and Finn will develop a fascination with making canapes!

Christmas Parties

We have been to our first Christmas party - which was very nice.  We decided not to have one this year, since I can't face it - for some reason I thought that having 4 mini-parties was a better idea.  Actually, it just means more stress and washing up.  But I think we can handle it. 

We decided to have an "At Home" i.e. inform people that we were open for visits on certain dates.  My first thought was to invite everyone I knew - and then I calmed down a bit and thought that really I wanted to have people I really liked.  Then of course you realise if you invited those people, and other people hear about it they'd be hurt... - so now the list includes a few "can't be avoided" invitations.  However, there are a couple of people I haven't invited.  Well, one who is so dominant socially and annoys people so much... I left him off.

In the ideal "At Home" scenario about half a dozen people turn up - and have a civilised chat by the fire... what the reality will be remains to be seen: there will be some where no one turns up (how restfull!) and some where screaming hordes turn up with dogs and children... and the food runs out.  Then there's the other possibility that the 4 most socially awkward people one knows will turn up and not talk to each other....

Actually, if things go well, we might institute an "At Home" every month or so - the old "salon" idea.  Although I doubt we could make the conversation so high-minded...

magdalen idiocy contd.

S sent me a link for a book/DVD rebutting all the Da Vinci Code stuff... but I think the book they were referring to was something more specific to the woman herself.  As for the research element - there used to be that computing saying "Garbage in, garbage out" - GIGO! it applies to books too.

The remainder of this entry had been censored for privacy reasons

An experi'ent

Which has already proved not to work - I wanted to see if I could paste the letter ' ' fro' the character 'ap - so that I could write 'y blog, but I can't, so will have to be satisfied with an 'less text - and substitute apostrophes.... the laptop is going in for a service to'orrow - which fills 'e with dread since last ti'e it was serviced 'y store of saved e'ails was re'oved fro' the hard drive.  I've just discovered I can do background colour on 'y text - that's really interesting.  I often think that the blog doesn't look as attractive as it could, due to the failure to upload photos etc.  But perhaps the coloured background could give it a certain je ne sais quoi.

I could use the coloured background to denote chance of subject perhaps?  Very synaesthetic... and perhaps too hard to read.  We shall see.

Now - here's the change of subject - I have just been to hospital in Canterbury - which necessitated two trains and 4 taxis, due to #y weakened state - a cost of about £25 - a nuisance not having the car.  It is, after a brief renaissance, off the road again.  I had hoped they would do a biopsy today - but they haven't.  Instead I #et a nice Nigerian?Ghanaian consultant called Ike - who ordered a hysteroscopy soon, i.e. within 2 weeks, which would enable the to do a biopsy and a s#ear test and everything else.  That's cheering - #eans they probably don't think it's cancer.  The bad news is I'll probably have to have a general anaesthetic before Christ#as.  Hope it won't knock #e out too #uch. 

I'# afraid this entry is co#ing under the general wittering category of blog - but I a# pleased about the colour thing - I could use different colours for different topics - then readers could skip fro# the bits that interest the# and avoid the boring bits.  So I could use this colour for "general wittering"

Politics and current events?  Not very legible - perhaps this one would be better... OK - Politics

Literature - including #y own efforts such as The Ro#antic Fe#inist - plus dealing with agents etc.

Gossip - celebrity etc?

Do I write about anything else?  Oh yes -

Other blogs!

Health - see above...

Or is it just plain stupid?  Have to see how it looks when I post it.,    Interesting how little one does actually use the letter # - perhaps that's why it scores relatively high in Scrabble.

Anniversary

We always celebrate the anniversary of our meeting - it is a nice thing to do.  But over the last few years it has not been celebrated, we don't have enough money to go out etc.  This year however, M has given me two nice presents... and according to Finn one was expensive.  I bought him two very boring little pressies.  I was looking forward to going out though.... anyway, he has cried off the dinner - and I am really disappointed.   I think I would rather have just a dinner then have presents - it's extra money and stuff we don't need.  Now, because I am tired and hungry, I feel a bit cheated so rather longing to eat something nice.  But we are having fish and chips instead.  Himself has gone off to snooze.   I hope I feel better after supper.  At the moment I just feel rather miserable.  I have been finding these festivities difficult since 2010 - I think part of the problem with our relationship was our lack of going out and having fun.  Now when we go out it feels like an enforced jollity - but we need to talk to each other.  I really enjoyed just having a drink on the terrace at the Bellvue a couple of weeks ago - doing something nice together, spontaneously.  This never happens, or almost never. 

Wish I didn't feel so gloomy about this.  It's that horrible feeling - I expect I'd have it about anyone I'd been with for 20 years - probably!

Low-key weekend

I woke up at 8.00 on Saturday morning: the radiators weren't working; the hot water wasn't working either.  Plumbers don't usually work on Saturdays - except for ludicrous amounts of money.  So I left a message for one, and concentrated on other things. 

We had a wonderful "family hour" cleaning out the kitchen - both the boys worked hard and things looked a lot better, although Mark worked hardest.    On Saturday night we had a nice supper together, and had a fire, and it wasn't too cold - so didn't matter so much about the heating.

On Sunday Mark Finn and I went to Canterbury - we had lunch at the Gaol Cafe, which is nice, v. good value. Finn was really funny: he didn't know what to eat, so I suggested he had chicken with couscous - it came covered with a pile of rocket and parmesan... the chicken was dressed with a caesar salad dressing and some spiced chutney - but he really liked it - said it was one of the best things he'd ever had.  He even ate some rocket - wonderful.   Then we did a bit of light shopping - and came home again.  Somehow it was very enjoyable.  Another fire, some pasta and woke up on Monday morning, refreshed and ready to meet the plumber!  He came, charged £204 to buy and replace a fan - so our heating is on again.    The car is going to cost a further £427 for the replacement of the head gasket... but we won't get it back until next Wednesday - so, more walking and taxiing etc.

Now that the new prospective agent has the MS, I am dreading seeing anything from her in the letter box - in case it's the rejection.... but I expect she'll have some suggestions - so I'll have something to work on.

Defamation

Last night I couldn't sleep, because now that an agent has got interested in The Romantic Feminist my mind has leapt forward to the next stage.  Even if she doesn't take me on, this is going to be an issue that will arise.

When she wrote her memoir, Maggie had to get the permission of everyone she mentioned in it to be included.  I've already made changes at the request of Polly and J - the next major obstacle would be my ex-husband, the other J - I have made him very recognisable... now I need to totally re-write him, and perhaps the circumstances of our relationship.  I thought I might make him Irish - from Belfast?  Or not.  Perhaps remove all the Catholic stuff - and maybe remove Tom - the character based on his friend P - he only appears briefly, and I've already edited my comments... he could be cut.   Maybe make Philip a lawyer...  And Doug - part of me thinks K is dead - but I can't be sure.  I Googled him and there doesn't seem to be much trace of him.  Rosey and Russell are in there, and my father, and all the C's - well "Jack" and "Beata" - both of whom tragically are ailing, and might even die before it gets published.  I've effectively got J's permission - but is there something he would have to sign - a release of some kind?

It's a bit of nightmare - change Ed's name - to make it less Ted like - and Paddy?  no, I don't think anyone - er, no, that's not true - well, turn "Niall" into two different people.

I must deal with the problems - whether she takes me on or not.  A nice defamation case, by one of the characters would wipe out any profits and a lot of my credibility.... 

Heart in mouth time...

I've spent the last two days furiously re-editing The Romantic Feminist - and today I sent it off to the agent who asked to see all of it.   It is somewhat nerve-wracking - one feels that somehow the first 3-4 chapters must be infinitely better than the rest - and this will be immediately discovered by the agent.  I have anxiety about the strength of (or is that lack of?) plot.  I can do plots - no probs, and there's a bit of a reveal - but it's not exactly about plot... as indeed great chunks of life aren't - narrative isn't just about plot, observation, comprehension, humour can all contribute to it.

A local(ish) writer, Maggie Harris was talking about her memoir last night at the club - she is a poet, and included some rather poetic passages in the text, all of which were deleted by the publishers.   They said they didn't further the narrative.  Surely atmosphere, the creation of images, enriches the narrative.  I wonder which publishers it was - that sounds such a very "creative writing course" objection to her work.  One can't say without seeing the text and what was deleted, but it does remind me of those people who bellow "Show, don't tell!" at one and behave as if there were only one kind of novel: a straight narrative with a tight plot... and not much else.  Rather like all those well-meaning people on the Authonomy website who gave critique based on what?  A creative writing course?  The people I wanted to hear from were people who were really writing all the time - not people who just churned out the criticisms and produced rather pedestrian work.  But it's horses for courses - plenty more people want to read the kind of novel that they wanted to write.  I fear I may have produced a book which may appeal to a smaller audience, but I also think that although the book may seem a bit high-falutin' in places, probably flatters the intelligence of the book group readers.  I am going on the basis of my book group... I know Muriel wouldn't like it (too much sex) and some of the others would find Lucy a bit wild, I think the Ann(e)s would like it, and Liz and Mary... with reservations.  It would provide a good topic for argument... so a good thing.

Editing the book in 2 days flat was a bit of a shocker - I found a couple of places where I'd repeated myself, thought Ch11 (or was it 10) really needed work - and thought that perhaps there were too many literary references.... oh dear. Also, now that I've got rid of the 1st person, I'm left with an accidental narrator and I'm not sure what to do.  I put some of the 1st person stuff into Lucy's "journal".  Quite a useful device... but the effect I had originally wanted, of the book being L's memories to some extent has gone...

What will the agent think?  Watch this space.... just hope she understands that I am willing to take instruction if she has any ideas on changes.

The Romantic Feminist again

Well - this morning there was a rather odd looking email in my inbox - in the title it said Contains sexual material... but it was from the last agent I sent TRF to.  And, mirabile dictu, she wants to see the rest of it.  I felt absolutely sick - how strange.  I am delighted of course, this is the first who wants to see the whole work and it doesn't mean she's going to take it on.  The reason I am sick is that I am part way through converting it from a partially 1st person narrative, to a completely 3rd person narrative.  And I know agents don't like to feel that they have been misled by authors.  So the plan is to get it sorted out tonight/tomorrow and get it to her tomorrow afternoon - or Friday.  Which is why this is a short entry.

On with the editing!

Shocks!

Yes, things are getting better, but there has been a setback on the health front.  I had a scan on Friday and saw a doctor afterwards, a new South African doctor I've never seen before.  He said there were 3 worrying things about my scan, I needed an immediate blood test to check my hormone levels, and he would get me a hospital appointment in 2 weeks "because of my age."

In the UK if there is a potential for cancer you get a hospital appointment in 2 weeks.  This is what they are worried about.  Officially I am completely blase about cancer - no one in my family has died of it (except my grandmother, when she was 91).  So I am enjoying the drama - although I am pretty sure it will be all right.  However, what is upsetting is how calm Mark was about it all.  I didn't get an arm around the shoulder or anything.  I was told I was always so brave.   I wonder if it is courage, or lack of imagination, or an uncanny ability to stick my head in the sand and ignore what is happening around me?  Actually, what is really happening is that I am getting on with things and believing nothing bad is happening.  Part of me wonders whether I have generated these symptoms myself to get a bit of sympathy.   It's all a bit useless really - when I do get sympathy I just feel embarassed.  Then later I feel cross and unhappy.

Why didn't Mark respond until I started crying - does he not have any independent feelings about me, but only takes his cue from me?  I was really unhappy on Friday night because he didn't seem to realise I might need a bit of special care because of the shock I'd had.   Yes, yes, I'm sure it's not cancer - but that doesn't mean I want him to ignore me.  I hate having to make a fuss to get attention.  Finn was heroic and gave me lots of spontaneous hugs - Ned did not, but showed some concern (like Mark, he's probably worrying about what will happen if I die).  Once I'd made a fuss (sobbing in bed when M was trying to sleep - how inconsiderate!) he began to amend his behaviour.   We even had quite a nice time on the weekend. 

On Sunday we went for a very quick drink at the Bellvue.  This is a pub which has a huge terrace overlooking Pegwell Bay.  It was incredibly warm about 15 degrees? - and windless, but rather hazy.  The tide was out, there was a slight, seaweedy smell and occasional bird calls, mostly oyster catchers, but there was a solitary curlew which we heard calling a couple of times. It was extraordinary for the end of November.  We have still had no frost here, and the leaves are still on the trees - lovely yellow and gold.  So beautiful.  So much for the very cold weather they keep promising.  Apparently like last year it will come in early November.

I spoke to A today - he has not yet gone to Java - he is sorting out his paperwork... oh dear.  He was meant to be coming for a drink tonight.  He didn't.  Mark is at a reception at St. Paul's Cathedral... very high powered, I hope he enjoys it.

Better? The return of the car?

I think - nervously - I may say that I am now better.  I am only slightly giddy, our financial payment is in the bank, I haven't had any more gynaecological horror since Tuesday (scan tomorrow), a man is coming to look at the car tomorrow and I've finally had an answer to an email from someone I thought was going to ignore it.  And I made a stunning chili con carne for supper - which every one of them praised.

To celebrate I have sent flowers to a sorrowful friend and signed up to Love Film and begun to think about Christmas....

It may be that we will shortly have the car back - this week I have had another grocery delivery - it's interesting - when you see how much your bill is when you buy on line you tend to whip things out of your basket - something you can't do at the supermarket - this has lead to some catastrophic under-buying - with the result that we are lacking one of our staple foods - ham!  On Monday I went to the doctor, which doesn't have the decency to be on a bus route - and is the opposite side of town (having moved from a building 5 minutes walk from here) so had to take a taxi.   Tomorrow M is hiring a car for work plus the weekend - so perhaps he can collect me from the doctor in the afternoon.   I want the car back, but am glad that we haven't been spending ££££'s on petrol in the last 2 weeks (it's nearly 3 weeks actually).  

We've not lived an exemplary car-free life.   If I was feeling better I would have walked to the doctor, but the fact is, one doesn't usually go to the doctor when one is feeling full of oojah-cum-spiff... so walking to the doctor is a bit of a fantasy really.

This weekend we will be having maximum use of the car: we will go to a supermarket, to the cash & carry, to the farm shop, to the rubbish dump, to the plastics re-cycling place... oh, the places you'll go!  Not having a car creates pent-up demand, and I wonder how we would be dealing with these things if we continued without one.   Perhaps just one hire every month to do that stuff - or we'd begin to investigate car-sharing. I doubt very much whether there's a scheme around here; even the greenest people seem to have 2 cars (they NEED them)... so getting them out of the habit would be hard.  But perhaps we could reduce some of them to 1 car.   However, it's another scheme I don't really have the energy for.

BRICS & Conspiracies

Yes - the blog is going global - the discerning few in Brazil have joined the Indian and Russian audience... sadly I doubt whether China will be joining in - think I'll have to make do with Singapore - and as for S Africa - well, given that half my family is white S African I know for a fact that reading isn't one of their favourite activities (and that was before the internet and tv).  What on earth does this audience make of this rather parochial worldview? - or perhaps they are all ex-pats craving some crusty and bewildered comments that remind them of good old Blighty? 

Had a fascinating chat with D today - a newish friend (let's face it all my friends down here are newish...) I really like him - there's something about one's fellow cradle Catholics that... well, there's some sort of shared culture - and he's Irish too.  He is also a bit of a conspiracy fan.... he was jokingly talking about the Illuminati - Finn overheard him and said afterwards "Does that man really believe in the Illuminati?"  I thought not - and said that I was a fan of the cock-up rather than the conspiracy theory... I felt the world was in its current state because of a combination of greed and incompetence, and lack of foresight and short sighted governments who have no real ambition beyond winning the next election.  However D thinks there could be some vast Establishment plot that's caused it.   I personally don't think it's in anyone's interest to bring the Western Economies to their knees - unless it's the BRICS - which seems unlikely since all the major players are US-owned transnationals.  

On the subject of the US he feels that they have done plenty of harm around the world and should now understand that it's China's turn.   As an ex-nurse he's afraid of what will happen as the UK health service is slowly privatised.  The first hospital has been privatised - by a nice, softly spoken, not-for-profit company - clearly chosen to put everyone at their ease, before the Megadodo International Insurance and Facilities Management Corporation starts getting into its stride and buying up the rest, sacking everyone and charging for the use of wheelchairs (they are free to use in the UK, or used to be).

D is an interesting and thoughtful man - like a lot of us he has slightly odd ideas about things he doesn't understand - I am all too prone to developing my own theories - which is why I crave a proper conversation with knowledgeable persons to get some light on the dark subjects.  In this case I think I was playing the role of knowledgeable person - certainly when it comes to understanding how the City works (a bit).  

The problem neither of us could resolve was why Tony Blair - a religious man - a convert to Catholicism - could square 800,000 dead in Iraq with his faith.  (OK, first person to mention medieval manifestations of Catholicism will be disregarded - that was 500 years ago - Catholic social and political teaching has moved a long way since then.).  Iraq was clearly not a just war.  Did Blair think they'd drop a few bombs and it would all be over by lunchtime?  I do understand though the desire to intervene and "make better" and that was, I think, was what he thought it would do.  Or did he just enjoy sucking up to Bush (oh dear, I'm getting my tenses mixed up - due no doubt to my day of editing the novel - changing persons and tenses everywhere).  Whatever it was, I don't buy the idea that he was somehow blackmailed into it.    Clearly I don't spend enough time reading the conspiracy blogs...

Strange Smell - for lovers of trivia/mindless witterings

For the last few weeks there's been a faint, almost subliminal smell, in my nostrils... I've been trying to work out what it is.  I have elminated myself as the source - but it's definitely an organic sort of smell.  At first I likened it to a distant whiff of public loos - amoniac, with bleach on top.  Now it's taken on a slightly fishier quality - a bit like certain types of glue.

This morning I woke up at 4.30 am and it began to impinge on my conscious almost at once.  I realised that I always smellt it in the bedroom (it can be eliminated by hiding under the duvet) or in the dining room - both of which rooms have open fireplaces... now I can smell it in Mark's office, which doesn't.  That's a shame, as I thought I had solved the mystery - I concluded it must be a dead seagull decaying in one of the chimneys - hence the fishy quality.  Now I will have to re-think.   Perhaps a seagull has dropped some fish down the chimney - but why can I small it in here?  Maybe it is some kind of glue M has been using.

The other mystery is that only I can smell it - I have some vague memory of hearing about a disease which manifests itself at first through a mysterious smell... in the nose of the sufferer (hypochondriac - moi?!) but I must have imagined/invented this. I wish I knew what it was - most of the time I don't mind, I have other things to worry about, but waking up early in the morning with it is bad.

Version 12

I think this must now be version 12 of the Romantic Feminist I'm working on.  The last agent said too much 1st person not good, too many layers of introspection ditto.  So I am finally killing the last of my darlings - adding a few details and putting it nearly all into 3rd person - reserving 1st person present tense for exceptionally vivid passages... will this do?  I am sending the first 50 pp. off to another agent  (or possibly 3) tomorrow.   This bloody books IS going to get published - whatever M says (supportive husband?  nah - now that he's discovered I'm not dying and supper will be cooked, he's back to normal).

The Armed Man & Remembrance Sunday

Last night M's choir gave a performance of Karl Jenkins' The Armed Man - it was rather wonderful - in part because it uses lots of familiar forms of music in turns - so the juxtapositions are interesting, and help one to continue to pay attention.  The words are important too - there is a section from the Mahabharata called Torches - which is truly gruesome and pathetic.  The music is interspersed with a series of readings... a lot of it deals with WWI - so it was a very appropriate piece to go and hear, gave me lots of thoughts about the book - and was inspiring.   It did not however move me to tears.  Usually this sort of thing does, and I think this is because of the medication - I miss having my emotions.  Of course, when I am really upset, as I am today, it does not make any difference and I still feel sad and angry and tearful - that's another story though...

The Armed Man really was a joy, even though parts of it were difficult to listen to.  I really liked the mixture of genres - an imam came and sang the call to prayer - then there was a psalm - No 56 - which I shall now be calling the feminist Psalm - since it is called "God save me from Bloody men" - it was sung as plain chant, and the opening and closing pieces were sung like a medieval marching song.... the end is beautiful and it seems an odd combination of an historical and religious piece.  I wonder whether KJ is a believer?  The ending is an affirmation that wouldn't suit atheist.   

Apparently there was a 15thC tradition of "armed man masses" - dealing with what?  Asking God's protection from them in war time?  Or praying for their success?  The performance last night was billed as connnected with Remembrance Sunday - and everyone wore poppies.

I was not wearing a poppy - we gave some money - the chaps all have them - but I decided this year that the pressure to wear one was getting silly and that choice in the matter was important (oh what an adolescent I am!).  I am a little concerned that the nationalistic aspect is getting out of hand.  Apparently this year people have sold more poppies than ever.  I know it is about remembering the sacrifice of those who died in wars - our soldiers and other people's soldiers - but I can't help feeling that people aren't really sorry about all the Germans, Afghans, Iraqis and Libyans we've whacked over the years.

I think we are selling more this year because people have become very concerned about the armed forces - they are dying in smaller numbers, but in nastier little conflicts that we at home don't feel emotionally engaged with.  I also think our relative poverty at the moment, and powerlessness in the world makes people keener to assert something that is very British.  Other countries do other things - on different days. 

My sister P and her husband J say that one should wear a poppy because one is wearing them for the right reasons... and "reclaim" the symbol from the baddies - it's a good theory - but how do people know that one is "reclaiming" it - rather than just asserting it as a nationalistic thing?   All this fuss about the footballers wanting to wear poppies makes me think there is something a bit bonkers about it. 

The more I read and think about WWI the more convinced I am of the horror, but at the same time it doesn't stop me feeling that our armed forces should when possible give a hand to countries trying to liberate themselves from injustice and dictatorship.  Of course this can be seen as imperialist, and I am not offering to go myself.... clearly there are wars and wars... we haven't been under much threat ourselves since WW2 - so should we have fought anywhere else?  Debateably we shouldn't have fought in WW1 - but we were in an alliance that called on us to do so.   Would the Germans have attacked us if we'd just left them to get whichever bits of France they wanted?

Carefree is by bus?

Well, after 2 weeks of not going very far (and having had a second Ocado delivery) I finally had to go to Margate for a meeting.  I am now aware of where the nearest bus stop to Margate Old Town is.   I was late - not that it mattered, but on the whole I enjoyed the bus journey.  All human life is there, well a cross-section.

On this occasion unfortunately the passengers were a bit lacking in the picturesque - but I was able to stretch my legs - as I got one of the two seats with leg room - and look out of the window.  The bus has been cunningly constructed so that very few of the windows offer a good view - there are horizontal and vertical bars at crucial spots, or no leg room, or stickers at the base of the windows that obscure the view.   The view is very familiar - but it was a nice day - the sun always looks good on the harbour - however bleary it may seem.

At the end of the meeting Jon offered me a lift to Ramsgate - he claimed he had one or two things to do here (if so, why didn't we have the meeting here in the first place?).  He drove via a very odd route, and then went back to Margate.   I have to say this has resulted in negative carbon impact - it was nice to chat with him - but he really should not have offered me a lift (but I think, being a more traditional socialist) he is less concerned with la vie en vert.  Alternatively, I could have been very right on - and refused and taken the bus, but I thought - well, if he's going anyway....    Must do better.

Jimmy Savile - and a repressed shudder

What a mysterious character.  I once saw him live on the Beatles Christmas Show at Hammersmith in 1903  (I think it was 1963 actually).  And then he was around on the telly all the time, and he seemed amusing when I was a child.  And then gradually, as I grew older he began to give me the creeps.

There was something so constructed about his persona I felt uncomfortable with it.  Everything seemed controlled beneath the faux-chaotic surface.  Yes, the charity work was marvellous - and relentless.  But why?  Well, he obviously had no personal life.  But why?

Two things I have heard: most journalists have heard rumours that he was a paedophile - there is no evidence of this, it is only a rumour.  However, I heard him interviewed once and he said he hated children - apparently he did - although not apparently enough to stop him earning lots of money hosting a children's tv programme and working with them.  His hatred of children may have been a transferred self-hatred for the feelings they evoked in him.

The other thing is not so much what I've heard, as what I've deduced.  He was insanely proud of his intellect and membership of Mensa - he believed he was a totally rational person (apart from being a devout Catholic - which isn't totally rational in the sense the word is usually understood).   If he was, then I guess he must have been aspergic... so that might account for the carefully constructed persona... and my feeling of unease.

Alternatively, this is an entirely subjective response and has no validity. But I wouldn't be surprised if other people didn't have the same response.

Without the car

...I was forced to go all the way to the Harbour on foot today - which meant that on the way back I went to the bank and paid a bit of a debt, then to the shop and bought some urgent items.  I got a bit giddy and nauseous after climbing the hill home, and as I sat on the bench near the almshouse in the dark, waiting to recover, I wondered whether they had put the almshouses there to keep the indigent old people fit - or whether they planned to ensure that there was a rapid turnover of elderly paupers as they consistently conked out from heart failure or apoplexy as they struggled with the gradient.

So I had a healthy walk and did the bank, the shopping and a meeting and spent no money on parking or petrol.  I splurged my savings on some smoked salmon pate....but I'm half celebrating the fact that Mark has another job in the pipeline.  A small sigh of relief may be permitted I think.

The Romantic Feminist

When I have a lot of things to do, I try to do the one that I'd enjoy most (if there's nothing extremely urgent).   While I was ill The Romantic Feminist was returned by another agent - she said there was a bit too much introspection, and that 1st person novels weren't fashionable at the moment.  So I've been re-writing it a bit.   Actually, a lot of the book is in 3rd person - but some of it is being changed in the hope of making things more detached.   I feel that I'm losing some of its identity, but it is "crisper" - certain things sounds totally stupid when you put them in 3rd person, so they have to go.  I've hacked away anything that looks too self-pitying in the introspective sections early on.   There is a lot of work to do - but I'm determined to get it sorted out and publishable.  I regret the loss of some of the intimacy - but I suspect the market for breathy, in your ear, intimacy is a bit limited. 

When I have a lot of things to do, I usually do something completely time wasting which avoids confronting the tasks that need to be done, but today has been an exception.  I now feel much better (after 6 weeks), so hope that my recovered strength is going to continue to sustain me through the four current issues: the 2 books, the Thanetarium, and Ramsgate Arts.   The small matters of housework, finance, family life, cooking etc. will just have to find their place.  And soon there will be Christmas.... and more cooking.

Bonfire Night

I really like Bonfire Night - to me it has always been a simple evening of enjoyment without any of the political-anthropological-NewAgey-social-religious overtones common to Hallowe'en.

Of course this isn't true - it's just that I have chosen to ignore them - it is actually an anti-Catholic celebration - but yet, as a Catholic family we always celebrated it with alacrity... I remember that waiting period when it got dark after one came home from school but we still had to wait until our father came home before we could have the bonfire and the fireworks.   Going into the garden and being excited by the sight of other people's rockets in the sky.  The weather being frequently appalling - vast amounts of smoke blowing into one's eyes, whereever one stood as the wind direction changed.   Sparklers - and the smell of sparklers.

When I was a child we used to make a guy for the bonfire - now I wouldn't dream of it.  Waste of good clothing!  One could theme one's guy - with masks.  In the 80s Mrs Thatcher masks were popular.  Children used to make guys and use them to raise money for fireworks.  Nowadays children aren't allowed to buy fireworks.   I remember poring for hours over the fireworks cabinets that appeared in newsagents' shops, and wondering how many we could afford to buy. I made price lists and tried to work out how much we could have of each type.  We saved up to buy ones we really liked which our parents didn't want, like jumping jacks.  I don't think they make them any more - much too dangerous!  Catherine wheels that didn't light - or got stuck.  Bengal matches which burned with a green or red flame.  And they were so cheap.  Even the biggest rockets weren't more than 25p - or five shillings.

Last night's bonfire night one of the most beautiful fireworks, called The Wrath of the Gods cost £25.  It was spectacularly lovely though.  There was another called Many Flowers in a Village Garden which lasted for ages, about 12 different bursts with different colours and effects.   Last year's favourites Monkeys Throwing Coconuts and Crabs doing something unusual were no longer available - the crab one had been particularly good, so it was rather a shame. 

As usual the fireworks were chosen and organised by Ben - and he, my father and James paid for them.  Which is why we have such fantastic displays.  None of the little mixed £25 boxes of fireworks, of the kinds we usually enjoy ourselves - or would have if we had our own firework do.   The trouble is, our display is usually rather better than the neighbours' shows.  At one point one of the neighbouring houses had a rather good aerial firework that make a lot of light and noise.  "Who dares to challenge the might of our fireworks?!" I thundered in my best Ming the Magnificent voice.

The tradition is - we (M and the boys) arrive in the afternoon and build the bonfire.  I cook a bit and make mulled wine.  Other people then arrive with different kinds of food.  When everyone is there, we start drinking the mulled wine, and admire the bonfire - then we have sparklers - and then we watch the fireworks - we admire the bonfire a bit more and then we feast.

Last night we feasted on chili wraps, guacamole, baked potatoes, pork and beans, coleslaw, parkin (traditional gingery cakes), brownies and a very delicious gateau au fraises from a posh patisserie in SW7 - and some v. good Chateauneuf du Pape and some quite good Cotes du Rhone.  Toffee apples? Pah!

Actually, this is becoming a food blog entry.

Bonfire night - before Hallowe'en was rediscovered in the UK - was obviously the descendant of the pagan fires of Samhain - but I've always experienced it as more friendly and sociable - it's not about huddling together in fear of the forces of evil - it's about being outdoors - with fires and light and being with other people in a positive way (even though the explosions of the fireworks might be about scaring away evil spirits).  It always feels more like a festival than Hallowe'en does.   Of course, the answer might be to reclaim Hallowe'en as a Christian festival - assert and proclaim the lives of the Saints and Souls.... which is clearly why the festival was put at this date (the earlier All Saints day was established in April - this one came about in 8th or 9th C - when no doubt pagan festivities connected with this time of year were still going fairly strong in Europe.   So although I decry the fact that Hallowe'en seems a more popular event nowadays (there are far more retailing opportunities), it's clear that Bonfire Night is very closely related to it.  Bonfires were part of Samhain I believe.  The best thing would be to have a joint festivity.

Car-free life begins

Yesterday I went to the bank and the shops on foot - well, that's no problem, except that I'm still a bit ill - the vlirus won't let me go.  So when I had bought a flea-collar and some washing powder, I felt nauseous and giddy - a bit like being pregnant really - and too ill to go and buy barley flakes and belly pork.  So I staggered home, and was extremely glad of the benches near the library.  Realised that if I had felt this ill under normal circs. I would have called M to collect me in the car.

I mentioned carlessness on Fb and one friend offered me trips to the shops which would be fun.  I hardly ever shop with anyone else (except Finn occasionally, which usually adds about £15 to the bill).  I am feeling particularly cross that I can't go to the farm shop though, since it isn't on a bus route - I could take a taxi of course, but if I were to do that I might as well buy all the vegetables at Waitrose. 

With fantastic timing - because I realised I wasn't quite ready for the walk back from Aldi with heavy bags in my current state of faiblesse - I had an email offering 25% off a shopping delivery at Ocado, so I gladly did this, and the shopping will arrive tomorrow - apart from the pork I need to make the traditional pork and beans for Bonfire Night.  (It's only traditional to my family - not to the British at large).  I rather hope that I am better next week - because I find with online shopping I always forget something crucial.

The other thing I notice is that because we are having a car for a whole weekend - Friday to Monday - I am now plotting all sorts of car-related things we can do: go to a party in Margate on Friday, go to the farm shop on Saturday.  I almost thought of going to Oxford on Sunday to see S - but I expect he will be visitored out... and it might appear alarming if a seldom seen cousin suddenly turns up - if I was ill and all my extended family started visiting from afar I would assume I was on my death bed.

Is a hire car cheating?  Interesting really - used judiciously it may not be - see it as a form of commercial car-sharing.   Wonder if I could interest any of the 2-3-car couples we know in a bit of that?   But if we hired a car every weekend that would only be £160-80 a month - not much more than we spend on the car anyway?  Unfortunately, we sometimes need the car for site visits etc.  so we can't really do without it long-term.  But then again, we could hire a car to go on site.

The obvious benefit of the car thing is that I will get more enforced exercise - and perhaps I will even try the bike again.  I used it in the summer for an interesting shopping trip.  It was bloody terrifying - and it will be a while before I can enjoy it the way I used to when I was young.  It's the derailleur - can't get used to it!  And it's sod's law that I have to start using the bike just as the weather gets revolting (it's fine now - but cold).  Also the bike has very little accommodation for shopping - wicker basket - but no room for panniers, so can't buy much more than milk and about 3 other items - and the farm shop is much too far and on too scarey a road - for the bike.   It is exciting - will I rise to the challenge of this situation, or will I sink into further depressive torpor?  Alternatively, I can wait until the new Asda opens at the end of the road (it will be about the same distance away as Waitrose - but less of a hill!) - or will my aversion to Walmart keep me ideologically pure?

What fresh hell 2?

Ok, forget everything I said yesterday - nothing in the world matters except having a healthy, loving family/friends.   This morning I discovered that my favourite cousin S, has "widespread" cancer.  He sent an early morning email.  I thought before I opened it that it was something ominous.  It is an absolute disaster.   Of course I hope and want him to recover but I've had sanguine feelings about other people's cancers when they've told me - expected them to get well, and this time I don't.  I hope I'm wrong and that my rather negative feeling is just due to the generally depressing nature of life at the moment, which is clouding my judgement. 

I rang my father.  He seemed depressed too.  Perhaps I should stop blogging and go back to bed and stay there for a day of mourning and grief.  My friend L's truly obnoxious old father died last week - a man who only remained alive through his own horrifying demandingness, as far as I could see.  I only encountered him once, mercifully, but none of the local care providers would work for him he was so difficult.   It is one of life's anomalies that someone like that lives into their 90s, while S who is one of the kindest, most thoughtful people should be threatened with death in his 50's.

When he came to my mother's funeral we all agreed we should have family picnics to meet up occasionally - and we duly had one in 2010.  The idea was that funerals shouldn't be our only chance of family reunions.  I didn't think about one this year, thought it might be too soon - now I wish we had, as I don't know if S will be well enough next spring but he may be.  Prayer, prayer, prayer and more prayer is all we can do.

Car-free is carefree?

That used to be a slogan Car-free is carefree and carefree is by Bus! that one saw on - Buses!

Well, I am about to re-discover the truth of that.  Yesterday when we went for our healthy walk in the Stodmarsh nature reserve (chief excitement - flights of greylag greese) - there was trouble with the car and we had to stop in a layby near the airport and call the RAC.   Sadly the head gasket is gone.  Even more sadly, we don't have the £946 estimated cost of repairs.  So we are parking it outside the house until we have the money to repair it.

This means I will have to do all the shopping on foot.... or by bus with an attendant child.  And that all leisure trips will have to be cancelled.   Our weekend trip to my father's for bonfire night will require a hire car... but £41 for the week end is affordable - just. 

Obviously we will be saving enormously on petrol (about £80-100 a month) - so that's something.  Perhaps if I put it aside in the savings we could repair the car by next August.

There is something terribly symbolic about not having a car, it puts one in the ranks of the uber-poor... I woke up worrying about it this morning, now I don't have to.  God knows when we will get it back.  M says he saw a Citroen estate for £600 on the side of the road... I don't think buying a new crock is the answer.   I feel rather as if everything we have is being stripped away - are we being taught a lesson?  I think we learned years ago about credit cards, we just couldn't get out of the habit.   Even now, I find myself thinking "well we could use the credit card" before I remember that we don't have one.  Perhaps once I have lost that knee-jerk thought we will be felt by the cosmic powers to have learned our lesson. 

At the moment we have about £150 in the bank, £400 in savings and a payment for £2,700 coming in on Wednesday.   And an awful lot of equity in the house that we can't use. We could try and sell and move somewhere smaller - but not in this market really.  M is going to sell a reasonably valuable old camera... damn, why couldn't we have been saved by the Iznik tile - but both Christies and Sotheby's think it's a 19thC replacement tile, made to restore a gap in a pattern.  Interesting really, perhaps more interesting - but not very valuable.   Actually, if you think of it, much more interesting, since it was a one-off - and it's been done well.  Not as mass-produced - or at least more individual than the proper ones.

If you're so smart, how come you ain't rich?

The Author vs. the Content

I just heard someone I knew talking on the radio: in fact he was doing "prayer for the day" - no doubt this is just a start - he'll be doing "Thought for the Day" on the Today programme (note to foreign readers: this is the 3-minute religious spot that occurs on the UK's most significant early morning news programme).  The thing is about this guy is that he sounds terribly convincing.  I was following what he said before I recognised him - and I thought "that's an interesting way of looking at it {Hallowe'en] - perhaps I should change my views".  It occurred to me that the change I would make to my views would make my life easier in some ways... and then I realised that it was Him - and I realised where this view came from.  I immediately felt that it was all a bit of a "snare and a delusion" - so I unthought it.

Actually, a few years ago, I felt envy towards this guy - he had a relatively smooth path to ordination - his worldliness didn't seem an obstacle - his PR skills were probably beneficial.  I was jealous that he'd achieved something I'd also wanted.  I don't have those feelings towards him now.   HOWEVER.... I do know something about his character and ability to deal with difficult situations, his care for others (or lack of it)... and this is why anything I hear him say on the radio - unless it has a ring of emotional truth and comes from personal experience - I cannot take without fitting to what I know about him - and as a result, I can't take his reasonable sounding pronouncements very seriously, because I know more about his character.

Now I have always felt that understanding the author didn't always feed one's understanding of the work.  I think finding out what a selfish git James Joyce was didn't really change my pleasure in reading Ulysses etc.  I definitely think of them as separate.  I know a lot about Virginia Woolf that I don't much like - but re-reading Mrs Dalloway recently was a great treat - and made me admire her more.

Now, this isn't the same.  Someone whose character I know, is making moral pronouncements - I know some of his shortcomings - so does that mean I needn't take any notice of what he says?  I have plenty of shortcomings, and I've never let that get in the way of providing an opinion on a moral question.  Actually I think it just means, that if I know someone is speaking out of their own shortcomings, then one doesn't listen to them.  Unfortunately, one can't know the shortcomings of all the persuasive speakers one hears - which makes it more difficult to judge what they say.    And of course everything they say is appealing to different aspects of one's nature - so one has to judge whether they are appealing to a good or bad part of one's nature, before being swayed by them.

This was meant to be a blog about Halloween, but perhaps I'll leave that until it has happened - no doubt trick and treaters will be out in the next few hours.

The People vs. St. Paul's Cathedral

I suppose many bloggers are frustrated op-ed writers - I'm a frustrated everything I try at the moment, but that's an altro discorso.  Anyway, having listened to various views about the St Paul's Cathedral encampment, I feel waves of familiarity sweeping over me.... I even heard GP - my former fellow church member in London asking about the 'St. P's affair from a PR point of view.    I think bad PR is probably the worst of it - ironically, it's not what they are doing, but how it looks that concerns the Church.  Great.

Probably, in 80% of other cathedrals across the land they would have accommodated the encampment and engaged with the protesters, brought them soup and gradually made them see that the CoE had its hipper elements.   But because it was St Paul's - and the Establishment, and the rather conservative Diocese of London, they couldn't think about it properly, as Christians, instead they thought about it as a nuisance to be cleared.   I was a bit puzzled.   Why couldn't they make an agreement with the protesters to clear a path in the middle of the steps, so people could get up and down easily - they might even have agreed to a low barrier to remind people not to crowd the area too much.  I don't believe the protesters would have had a problem with that.  Then all the services, tourists, weddings and valuable revenues could have continued to flow in without a problem.

I was slightly surprised that the revenues were only £16,000 per day - the caff, the gift shop and the expensive entrance fee... perhaps they didn't find as many visitors coming as one might expect.  Or perhaps, like me, people would sneak in for evensong for free... and dawdle sightseeing on the way out. 

Health & Safety is becoming such an old chestnut.   When the Cathedral chapter blamed H&S I felt an inward sigh.  It had the ring of truth - I know those pusillanimous types from past experience on Parochial Church Councils, and Deanery Synods.  It is a shield for the timorous, the unadventurous and the plain idle, to protect them from having to be active or imaginative... I remember all those people who said it would be "too dangerous" to distribute Millennium Candles in the parish, in case people burned their houses down.    Just such attitudes, writ on a larger scale, probably informed the Dean & Chapter's deliberations, coupled of course with their broadly establishment attitudes.

The latest thing is this "shelving" of the St Paul's Institute report about the ethics of the City of London - well, maybe it is simply postponed, but it sounds like it has been kicked into the long grass (as everyone likes to say).   And now - mirabile dictu the Bishop has said he is afraid of "violence" - why?  There hasn't been any so far - if they involve the police of course, that will no doubt result in some - answer: don't bring in the police.   And the idea that the Cathedral will offer "a public debate" on the issues in exchange for the Occupy the City crowd dispersing... well, gosh, that sounds an immensely reasonable exchange.   If there was somewhere to send my CoE membership back to, I think I would.   Generation of wimps!

Labyrinthitis bore

It continues - it is now Wednesday evening, I've had it for 5 days - I've been on Stematil - which has controlled the psychotic side effects (depression, anxiety, mania...) but hasn't stopped everything swooping around me every time I nod my head too emphatically, or turn over in bed, or raise my head from the pillow.

I managed quite well yesterday - got up, managed the house (i.e. gave orders to the rest of the family) oversaw working parties, and even did some cleaning and cooking (courgette quiche and pasta e fagioli for lunch - roast chicken and veg, chocolate mousse for supper).  Finn's friend A came, with his nice father M - and we had quite a jolly time.  I like M because he loves Ramsgate and I feel a terrible parochial pride - when he said today he didn't think Margate was as nice as Ramsgate I had an appalling moment of chauvinistic delight!  So much for my idea of "joined-up Thanet".  

It was sunny but chilly - we had the urge to get hugelich (nice Danish word) in honour of M so while he was conducting a business conference call in the sitting room, Mark and I cracked open a bottle of 10 year old Glenmorangie and drank it out of heavy crystal tumblers while I supervised the supper - and then felt we were briefly on Planet Agreeable...

Today of course, given the tricksy nature of the virus, I felt completely &*£@! again, much worse than yesterday, so I spent most of the day in bed.  In the morning I took notes on Vera Brittain's Testament of Youth which had lots of interesting stuff about gas gangrene and delirium (side effect of septicaemia I presume).  In the afternoon, once we had said goodbye to M & A, I read the whole of Private Eye - but was too dopey and ailey to laugh.

Ned told me a one-liner yesterday  "My wife made chocolate mousse once - I nearly choked on an antler."
The only thing that made me laugh a lot today was the final frames of the Simpsons: grandpa (having retired from bullfighting and liberated all the bulls) and Lisa are sitting in chairs supported by helium balloons and floating above Springfield.  Suddenly two bulls, with balloons attached to their horns and tails drift up to join them menace them.  I think it's something to do with the way the animators draw the bulls - and the suggestion their huge horns will burst the balloons....

Trivia - but this has been a day for it - and yet, I felt completely happy doing my research - looking at the Western Front - seeing diagrams, and staring at maps to complement my understanding of VB's time at Etaples (how does one do accents on this?).  Having been to Etaples really helped - I must sort out a time to go and research Gaga's RAMC unit at the Imperial War Museum Library - or just look at the RAMC website...there's a museum/library too I think.

How Long!???

This blood-soaked virus is continuing - all sorts of new phenomena - just when I thought I was getting better, going out etc. it zapped me with viral labyrinthitis - which meant I had to spend most of the weekend in bed - only going out to the doctor for an emergency prescription on Sunday - what fun!   I woke up this morning thinking it would be over - cautiously raised my head and was rewarded by the room rocking wildly, an incipient headache and a wave of nausea.   I have now been ill for 3 weeks and one day.  Tomorrow we have visitors.   I was well enough to get up and make bread, cook supper and do some washing up this afternoon, so I think I am getting better - just have to hold my head very level - which is no doubt jolly good for my posture.

Diet note: since I have been in bed/ailing I have been furiously hungry - weird - but have also lost about 3 lbs - despite lack of exercise - and eating all sorts of "unsuitable" foods - e.g Irish apple bread, porridge with goldensyrup, and even a chocolate croissant today.  Perhaps my new Book of Proverbs diet is working....

And now Ghadaffi..

...or however it's spelled.  Once again the world is seeing scenes of jubilation at someone's death.  There is something rather hideous about this - however tyrannical the dead person was.  I often sense with older people a satisfaction when someone else has died - as if by surviving them they have somehow won.  There is some sort of atavistic satisfaction about the death of a rival - so obviously the death of an enemy is even more satisfactory.  I am taking the John Donne - "as not for whom the bell tolls" view...

Of course Ghadaffi was a horror - although he was quite a personable looking bloke when younger - which is neither here nor there of course.  Strangely nutty - his regime was hideous for many ordinary Libyans - but was it, in terms of foreign affairs so dreadful?  He sold arms to unpleasant groups - so do we, he made disagreeable diplomatic relationships, so do we; he "sponsored terrorism" - we support unelected dictators from time to time.    Now everyone is calling for an enquiry into how he was killed - was it "fair"? in some way.   I suppose he should have been  brought to trial - but we've had this conversation over and over...about Osama - about all sorts of situations, and it's a bit boring - we know really that realpolitik will triumph and bleating about how Ghaddaffi should have been put on trial is just a waste of time.  

A nice liberal man (John Kampfner) is saying we shouldn't assume that different cultures have different norms of justice.... well, that shows how much he knows about human societies.  We see him down here a lot, he's the Chair of the Turner - a bit awkward, and a bit of twit.  Editors of the New Statesman often seem to have rather bland, slightly gutless liberal politics: I suppose it goes with the territory - having a full-blooded socialist in that role wouldn't do at all.  Mind you, it's probably years since he was its editor - I stopped reading it years ago - I occasionally buy it at Christmas!  What a treat - or is it a penitential act?

Back to Schmoozin'

I went to a networking event yesterday.  It was surprisingly good - I met several people who were interested in the free marketing advice... very nice.  More people took my card than gave me theirs - and people removed it from the pile I left on the table.  So.... perhaps something will come of this.  I was also asked to do a quick PR for a conference - so hope that will happen.  It's only a tiny bit of money, but it's something.

No sign of S - I saw another S last night - and told her what was happening with the business - she said she thought S had a tendency to disappear for long periods and not be available - and she also said she assumed that S had a job and that HH was just something on the side.... if that were the case I wouldn't be so annoyed.   Actually, it made me laugh - because I thought it does rather show that other people have noticed her lack of committment, so it's not just me.

It will be interesting to see whether the prospect of some work will do anything to reel her in, but if she does have other work that she isn't telling me about then perhaps it will finally force her to admit this.

Meanwhile, the Thanetarium is becoming a reality - but we do need to sort out a lot of things - like a bank account, and so on.   We have several potential "free" advertisers for the dummy - and some writing available.