Friday, January 27, 2012

Speak up, speak out for Holocaust Memorial Day

Early this morning, I read a piece on Guardian Online about the way the Israelis treat Palestinian children whom they’ve arrested. I was shocked. 

Just now I’ve been on Twitter and saw this tweet:

Video shows Israeli interrogators breaking down arrested boy, whose coerced testimony was used against village leaders

There was a link to the video, but it was broken (I wonder how that happened?)

Then I saw a tweet saying it was Holocaust Memorial Day.

I visited the Holocaust Memorial Day website which said that this year’s theme is Speak up, Speak out.

First They Came - Pastor Martin Niemoller

First they came for the Communists
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a Communist
Then they came for the Socialists
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a Socialist
Then they came for the trade unionists
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a trade unionist
Then they came for the Jews
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a Jew
Then they came for me
And there was no one left

Join the dots, dear readers.

The good, the bad and the downright exhausted

Jet-lag and toddlers don’t mix.

Jet-lag and toddlers who are teething don’t mix.

Jet-lag and irrepressible, never-sit-still toddlers don’t mix – at least not for the parents.

The west coast Hepworths staying at Hepworth Towers, are merely grazing on sleep, but…

Jan 2012 Lux 013

this one is doing just fine.

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Life with Lux

lux 2012

Is jet-lag infectious? Or is it just that I’ve forgotten that toddlers are exhausting, as well as fabulous fun?  …off to bed (while she is napping) to watch Neighbours and chill, and reculer pour mieux sauter.

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Got the toys, the books, the cot and the trike

If you don’t hear from me this week, it’s because I’m busy with my American family:

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Wendy Nov 2011

flying in today from:

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p.s. Isaac and Lux are in the Twitter office in the top picture.

Monday, January 23, 2012

News from over the ocean

Sometimes I mention “the Aging Hippie” to you, don’t I? I met her on a peace demo in San Francisco on my very first trip there, just like Fran Suskind (in BUT I TOLD YOU LAST YEAR THAT I LOVED YOU) made a friend on a peace demo.

The Aging Hippie lives in Redwood City and goes to a book group which has meetings on a Sunday. They have a shared lunch at someone’s house, and the food they take has to be mentioned in the book or it has to be from the culture in the book.

Several years ago they read Plotting for Beginners and I went along and talked about it and they all brought English food: the offering that amused me most was Heinz tinned spaghetti, because that is what Gus in PfB adores.

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Yesterday they discussed BUT I TOLD YOU LAST YEAR THAT I LOVED YOU, and the Aging Hippie, under strict instructions from me to remember and report EVERTHING, has emailed to say this…

“First, food: I made the potato leek soup, at your suggestion, and it was good, especially since it is a cold and rainy day. Mary said she was hoping someone would do that.

“Pam's addition was the best, of course, in terms of relating to the book. She brought

1 – Sol. i.e. dates that she stuffed with peanut butter. It was crusty and sweet on the outside and totally nuts on the inside. It was coated with sugar because Fran has to sugar coat much of her life in living with him. It is put on a plain white plate because who needs fancy chinaware?

2 – Fran. Sliced pink lady apples for socialist communist leanings. They were in a pretty bowl with decorations of lovely countryside on the rim.

Irene brought cooked carrots.

Jeanne brought cauliflower curry with lots of veggies from the back of the refrigerator.

The other foods were not related to the book but were equally delicious.

Second, the book: everyone liked it and enjoyed it. Discussion of the characters, especially Sol, led to a long discussion of Asperger's, the autism spectrum, and then, to what men are "normally" like anyway (much like Sol).”

AH wrote more, some of which I couldn’t report here without permission, so I’m going to leave it at that. There were some criticisms of the book, but as they relate to particular plot points, I can’t report them without spoiling it for someone who hasn’t yet read the book – and there may be one or two people reading my blog who haven’t read the book! (and I do still have hopes.)

Today I am preparing the house to receive important guests – my family from California – who arrive tomorrow. (Yipppeeee!) One urgent task is to make the sitting room 18-month-old–proof, so that this little person doesn’t have any unfortunate accidents.

christmas eve 2011

Friday, January 20, 2012

Back-stories

Jane (Linfoot) and I are having huge fun working on the sequel to Plotting for Beginners. It’s such a delight to talk about the characters with her: to us they are real people. Working out back-stories for quirky bits of their behaviour is a delight, but then I do tend to work out back-stories all the time for people around Bakewell, whom I recognise by sight but don’t know.

I’ve even got a back-story for the cat, who was a stray. The cat rescue lady thought Chione was dumped at the age of 6 months when her owner did not want to pay to have her spayed. (the cat lady’s back-story for the cat.)

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Chione isn’t interested in drinking from her bowl downstairs, she likes to drink from soapy containers she finds in the bathroom. Or she climbs in the bath after my shower and laps up the water from around the plughole. Easy-peasy: I’ve decided that when she was a kitten her owners must have kept her in the bathroom when they went to work, and she became hooked on water with a hint of soap in it.

Dave is not convinced by my back-stories, but then he’s a non-fiction man, so no surprise there.

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Wednesday, January 18, 2012

I don’t ask you for much and I don’t ask you often

Here I am, writing my blog three times a week, and you can drop in any time you like. And if you stay away for months on end and then come back, there are no questions asked. (Although… I haven’t had a comment from Shafia for ages…I wonder if she still drops by.)  

Sometimes the blog is interesting, sometimes heart-searching, sometimes funny, sometimes nostalgic, sometimes inspirational. Sometimes it has stuff in about writing and editing. It’s always, always pretty.

OK. Here’s the thing.

You know that large order that the 55% discount wholesaler took from me?

They can return it if they don’t sell the books.

Soohh…  I need you to buy a book. If you haven’t already bought a copy of BUT I TOLD YOU LAST YEAR THAT I LOVED YOU, then why not buy one and read it?

If you have already bought one, why not buy one for a friend or relation as a present?

Don’t give me the excuse that it looks like a woman’s book and you’re a man. There are plenty of men who have read it and liked it. The last one I met told me he thought the book was “Superb. Moving and compassionate.”

Some people see the serious side, as he did. Some readers take it more lightly, and view it as a holiday read. A reader will bring their own baggage and interpretation to any novel. I do think that if a book is accessible and easy to read, some people mistakenly assume it is not serious, or has nothing important to say.

It’s available as a paperback or an ebook.

You can buy a paperback postage free – wherever you live – at The Book Depository. It’s only £6.95.

You can buy it from Amazon for £6.95 for the paperback, and for £3.60 for an ebook.

You could even go wild and support your local bookshop and order it from them.

What did you say?  Will you enjoy it?

If you come back here time and again, then you’re bound to like it, because you like my view of the world.

If you’re new here, and you know nothing about me or my book, then here is what some people have said -

Judith Murray, top literary agent, said it’s "clever, funny, subtle, wry, sad and uplifting all at once...Sue Hepworth writes thoughtfully and insightfully, and with such tenderness and humour"

Professor Stuart Murray (no relation to Judith Murray)  said this.

So how’s about it, guys and gals? (yes, yes, I know full well that dates me.)

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Odd and contentious trivia

My brother emailed yesterday to say that he likes my new blog header, but why had I changed it and not written a post?

It was because I was fed up. And I was fed up well before i knew it was Blue Monday, a concept which is bunkum anyway. Quite apart from anything else, if you were going to choose the bluest day of the year in the northern hemisphere it would have to be in February.

I feel slightly more cheerful this morning in spite of the fact that I dreamed Dave had let someone in the village use my beloved saxophone without asking me (and neither of them had screwed the neckpiece on properly, either.)  Dave is without remorse. He says he is not responsible for his behaviour in my dreams. I don’t altogether agree.

Friday, January 13, 2012

Day (off) in the life of a

publisher author…

  • wake up and think about new comic novel in progress, switch on light and see Sebastian Barry’s On Canaan’s Side on the bedside table, waiting to be read, and realise shan’t be able to read it now have started writing a new book
  • read emails from co-author of new comic novel and laugh at her suggestions
  • read email from wholesaler requesting more copies of latest book and groan. Why have they sent three smallish orders in the last ten days, rather than sending one big order? Every time the printer/warehouse fulfils an order it costs you X, no matter how many books they send. This means you have paid 3X to the printer instead of X to the printer. As the wholesaler in question is already taking 55% discount on your book price you feel – in the words of Sally Howe, heroine of new comic novel - “well pissed off.”
  • ring manager of friendly independent bookshop who also publishes and get some inside info on how wholesalers (and independent booksellers) think.
  • ring wholesaler and suggest (as you already have the last two times) that they up their order this time to save you money, with persuasive argument that your book has been featured in Guardian Readers’ Books of the Year, that it was only published six months ago, and that it is a specialist title (give details) and will continue to sell. Wholesaler promises to talk to manager and email you response.
  • practise two tunes on sax and then see that the gales have stopped and decide that as you only have an hour before going to Sheffield, you will walk round the village with husband instead.
  • drive to Sheffield for lunch with friend. Talk about lots of things, including death, and how sometimes when you are sitting with a dying person, they choose the time when you pop out to the loo to die. Speculate on why this is: one theory being that your love is holding them back and only when you leave the room can they get on with what they know they have to do.
  • arrive at daughter’s house early before she is there and sit in her kitchen with feet up, thinking how nicely she arranges her house.
  • make cup of tea for tired daughter on her return and then drive to school together to pick up the boys.
  • watch Shaun the Sheep on the telly (excellent) and The Ooglies (appalling). Childrens’ telly is fab, but that programme is not funny, has no plotline, no words, and has an obnoxious soundtrack. Wish with whole heart that Gil (5) still liked The Octonauts.
  • play Smuggle with daughter and Tate (7). Tate wins. He plays Smuggle like a Las Vegas professional poker player and has you in stitches with his minimal facial expressions – the twitch of an eyebrow, the tiniest pucker at the corner of his mouth.
  • come home and find email from wholesaler saying they would like a BIG order of your books. Yay!
  • collapse in front of the fire, talk to husband about things that are bothering you, and then watch M*A*S*H together for prophylactic and life-affirming dose of humour.
  • write blog and curse cos you can’t make the bullet points do what you want them to do. Realise it’s those damn OOglies queering the pitch.

 

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Why Frances Suskind* and I like Jon Snow

Every night at tea-time I get an email from Channel 4 News telling me what’s coming up on the programme at 7 p.m. The email is called Snowmail. Sometimes Jon Snow writes it, sometimes he doesn’t.

Last night he had a para on the Republican candidates at the Iowa caucus. This is it (the italics are mine):

Mitt Romney ahead as New Hampshire votes

From the amazing events of the Iowa caucus in which one of the most extreme Republican candidates trying for the presidency came within a whisper of winning, Matt Frei tonight emerges in New Hampshire. The next, and some believe, the more real test of the primary season for the Republicans. Frontrunner Mitt Romney has dropped a few clangers. Will they matter? And who from the clutch of god-botherers, gay-haters, Iran-bombers and the rest will emerge as the tribune of the far right in the Republican party?
Read more>

*Frances Suskind is one of the two main characters in But I told you last year that I loved you.

Sunday, January 08, 2012

News for fans of Plotting for Beginners

Whenever I finish making a patchwork quilt I always swear I will never make another one. I begin the task enthused with the colours and the thrill of design, and I end the process in a filthy temper, hand-stitching the binding with bleeding fingers.  But it’s like the old cliche about having a baby – you forget the pain and as time passes, you yearn to make another.

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And whenever I have a book published I tell my friends and family that I will never write another. This is for different reasons, though. I usually think that I don’t have another one in me…how could I possibly do it again? 

Jan 2012 010

But on Christmas Day there wasn’t much happening here (as regular readers will already know) and I read Plotting for Beginners to cheer myself up. And it did cheer me up. I was reading the last hundred pages with a smile on my face. This may seem like an unseemly admission for an author – to read her own comic novel and be amused by it – but I try to be honest here.

Sure, there were things I noticed in the text that didn’t work. There were weak spots, and there were things I would do differently now. But I guess that’s the case with all writers. And it was our first published novel. We’ve both developed as writers since then. And Jane’s emails in the voice of Kate Wensley stand the test of time. They still make me chuckle. Her pared down writing is so very classy.

Anyway…I emailed Jane and asked how she felt about writing a sequel. Was she ready now?

Last week we had a meeting and agreed. We’re going to do it. Yay! We spent a lot of time laughing – as we did when we worked on Plotting before. It is so much fun writing a comic novel with someone who shares your sense of humour and who loves to live with fictional characters, just as you do.

So I have months of collaborative enjoyment and laughter ahead – what a cheerful prospect at the start of a new year.

Friday, January 06, 2012

Sitting here

I am sitting here in my study in my pyjamas because there is no point in having my morning shower until I have been on the exercise bike.

I’ve done all my emails, and now it’s time to think about the Christmas tree. Today is the day for taking it  out to the shed to acclimatise it, before I plant it out.

But I’m wondering whether Christmas trees kettled in someone’s study in a house where there’s been an OFF Christmas, whether they have to follow the same rules as ordinary Christmas trees. It’s been so sweet and so small and so quiet, and I’ve enjoyed it so much, I’m wondering whether to just to move it to the other corner of my study, where it isn’t visible from the hall…

Dec 2011 044

Tuesday, January 03, 2012

Not much to be said

There’s not much to be said for waking up in the night and being unable to go back to sleep - not because you’re worried or sad but just because you can’t turn off your brain. And there’s not much to be said for having friends who live in a different time zone. But when you have a friend 8 hours away who checks her email as frequently as an unpublished author waiting to hear from a publisher, and that friend likes to play Scrabble as much as you do, you’re quids in.

The Aging Hippie and I usually “chat” non-stop during our online games, but last night at 2.30 a.m. we had a calm and quiet game and afterwards I managed to get back to sleep. Thank you, AH. It was just the ticket. And as you didn’t know the word, here is a trug:

Monday, January 02, 2012

Debriefing

We had an OFF Christmas this year, and if you judge it in its own terms (i.e. that an OFF Christmas – in my view – can never come up to snuff) it was a good OFF Christmas. Dave’s contribution – bringing me breakfast in bed on Christmas morning, and making me a beautiful hand-crafted 3D card. My contribution – keeping the tiny tree-in-a-pot kettled (his word) in my study, and only having half a dozen Christmas cards displayed on the dresser in the dining room (the rest in my study.)

And in 2012, Christmas will be ON. Yay!

As for New Year plans, I am working on a new writing project, and I’ll tell you about it when it’s a little more advanced. It’s something I’ve wanted to do for ages, so I hope it comes off. And I am VERY excited!

p.s. My current header is a picture I took from our bathroom window last January 1st. I’m not sure it works as a header: the full moon seems a little too portentous. And anyway, a new moon would be better for the start of the year. But it’s the only suitable January photo I have, and as regular readers will know, I only have photos up there that I have taken in the appropriate month.

Sunday, January 01, 2012

Happy New Year!

I know I have said it before, but it bears saying again…

It is better to light one small candle than to curse the darkness.

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Saturday, December 31, 2011

Publicity!

What a fabulous way to end the old year.

My book  - BUT I TOLD YOU LAST YEAR THAT I LOVED YOU - is in the Guardian today, in Readers’ Books of the Year.  Yay!

Follow this link and scroll down to the third para from the bottom.

Thursday, December 29, 2011

Hiatus

"Things are possible during December's darkened days that are not even dreamt of at other spokes of the Wheel of the Year. We should use this magic as a vehicle for deepening our awareness of the world around us and preparing ourselves for the ongoing pilgrimage of our lives."
- Montague Whitsel

Saturday, December 24, 2011

My Christmas Eve Edition

This is for all my new readers who know nothing about the ON/OFF Christmas concept. Enjoy, whether you are new or old. And happy holidays, whether your Christmas is on or off.

Christmas in the Shed

Are you and your partner at odds as to how to celebrate Christmas? Does one of you want to go and sit by a peat fire in a bothy in the Outer Hebrides, while the other wants to stay in the thick of things and party every night ?

Although we have tried to find the perfect Christmas compromise, for us there is no middle ground. It was somehow not a problem when we were first married. As impoverished students we both thought it fun to have a second hand Christmas tree and to make baubles out of painted eggshells. Now – forty years and three children later – we disagree.

You may need some background. I come from a meat eating, sub-Walton family of five children, with a history of jolly Christmases - not extravagant, there was no money for extravagance - but certainly festive. I don’t ask for incessant parties, or for spending overkill. For me there is nothing more heart warming than having the house packed with people I love, sharing good food, conversation and games, and to have decorations and a tree.

For my teetotal, vegetarian, atheist husband, who is an only child, and who is not one of life’s natural celebrants, an empty, quiet house is the ideal. He is allergic to visitors, cards, tree, seasonal food and tinsel, and his idea of jolly activity is a spot of DIY, whilst his only concession to over indulgence is an extra carton of natural yoghurt.

Last Christmas I tried to be selfless and to accede to his puritan yearnings by having no decorations and by giving up the tree. This was painful. Admittedly we missed out on the annual row about where to place it ( the issue for him ), and whether or not it was perfectly vertical ( the issue for me ), but still I was bereft. I lasted out till Christmas Eve, but failed to go cold turkey, and resorted to assembling all my over-wintering geraniums in the dining room, and stringing the fairy lights on them. It was sad, but it was better than nothing.

This year he floated the idea of the Christmas Shed. I was suspicious, because we already have a potting shed, a storage shed and a workshop shed, and I know he harbours an evil imperialist plan to have the garden covered with a vast shed complex. But actually his idea has promise.

Firstly, we would alternate a Christmas ON year with a Christmas OFF year. In an OFF year ( his year ) we would have no visitors and the house would be declared a festivity free zone. I would decorate the Christmas Shed to my taste, with a tree, cards, holly and tinsel, and there would be a stash of Christmas goodies in there, and a radio for Christmas music. If friends or family visit I would entertain them in the Shed. If no-one calls ( and who would blame them ? ) and if the sitting room is not available for a surreptitious screening of It’s a Wonderful Life, I could seek refuge from the monastic desert and go out to the Shed for a mince pie and an invigorating blast of Jingle Bells.

In an ON year, the house would be mine to fill with whoever and whatever I liked. My husband could slink off to the Christmas Shed with a bowl of yoghurt and sit in a deck chair in his boiler suit reading Walden. If he wanted a little light activity he could mend a few broken chair legs.

We could have a sign inside the front door saying “Next Christmas: December-” and then give the year. That way, adult children visiting the house during the year would be able to discreetly note it in their diaries, and no-one would suffer embarrassment or hurt feelings when the subject of Christmas was raised in those difficult parent-offspring telephone conversations that often occur in September. Outside the house, my husband could erect a sign directing carol singers and other assorted revellers towards the appropriate location.

So, that’s decided, then. We’ll buy a Christmas Shed and get started. The only problem now is to decide whether we start the new regime with an ON Christmas or an OFF Christmas. He says we’ve had Christmas for thirty years, so this year should be OFF. I say I did without the tree last year, so Christmas should be ON.

© Sue Hepworth/Times Newspapers 2009

published here with kind permission of Times Newspapers

Thursday, December 22, 2011

My Christmas edition

You know how the newspapers use stuff they’ve prepared earlier (and not news) in their Christmas editions?

Well here’s my version of that – a piece I had in The Times

Party Time

“The best thing about being self-employed is that I don’t have to think of an excuse for missing the office party,” said my fellow home-worker – my husband.

I, however, am in need of some fun and games. Living up a lane in the Peak District is heavenly for three seasons of the year, but when the looming mists swirl in and blank out the fabulous views, and I can’t go anywhere without wellies, and it feels as though the long dark tea-time of the soul has set in till March, I get desperate for bright lights and company.

Unfortunately the man at the computer upstairs is not a party animal: he neither goes to parties, nor understands what they are for. I remember when I decided to have one for my fortieth birthday, he asked “Why on earth would you want to celebrate getting older and moving another few steps downhill? All we’re heading for now is death.”

He couldn’t face attending the party, but was concerned about the hordes of people I would be having in the house, and wanted to make a contribution to the preparations. He did. He calculated the tonnage of the assembled revellers, worried that the sitting room floor might collapse because dancers would refuse to keep to the edges of the rooms, and he went down to the cellar, where he used chunky four by four wooden posts to prop up the floor from underneath.

Apart from that, the only other time he’s been anywhere near a party was one New Year’s Eve when he found two of our oldest friends on the doorstep, unannounced, and waving a bottle of champagne. Unhappily, I was away, but he phoned me and while he wailed about the “scandalous imposition” of their expecting him to stay up until midnight and be jolly, I jumped up and down with frustration that I couldn’t be there to join in.

He’s not what you’d call a singing-and-dancing-kind-of-guy. Think less Gene Kelly and more Fraser, the Scottish undertaker in Dad’s Army - “Doomed! We’re all doomed!”

But he does have a tender heart, and, eager to cheer me up, he has suggested we have our own office party – just me and him.

We should have it in his study as it’s bigger than mine, he says. I am just wondering how he will press me up against the filing cabinet for a quick snog when you can’t get near it for all the wallet files spread out on the carpet for easy access, when he offers to clear the floor. He will also carry out into the hall the stacking plastic boxes stashed with papers and reports, and he’ll even wheel his poncey, sorry, precious new bike out to the shed (to join my sturdy workhorse) where he thinks it might be all right, just for a couple of hours.

I’m not sure what he’s got to offer by way of food and drink, though. He is teetotal, and he’s never been able to grasp the concept of eating as an enjoyable activity: as far as he’s concerned, eating is for refuelling. That’s apart from yoghurt, of which he is a connoisseur. Our village shop gets in catering size cartons of Longley Farm natural, just for him. At Christmas when the shop is closed and he has to pre-buy in bulk, and yet I also need extra fridge space for family entertaining, he keeps his extra cartons of yoghurt cool by floating them in the water barrel in the garden.

old pic of dave

It may be just me, but when I think of party food, yoghurt isn’t the first thing that comes to mind.

I don’t care though, because for the party he says he will wear a Santa hat and download a festive screensaver onto his computer.

He really knows how to show a girl a good time.

I do appreciate the offer of an office party, I say, but I wonder whether it’s possible to have a party with only two people. Couldn’t we invite someone else? Unfortunately, the only other people we see during our working days are the postman, a sweetie who likes to tell us how many buzzards he’s seen on his round, and our neighbouring farmer, who calls when he is moving his heifers, to ask us to stand in our gateway to stop them from coming in and cavorting on the lawn.

But we do have a continuous stream of telephone callers. Perhaps during the party we could have the phone on loudspeaker, I suggest, and at least have some conference calls, maybe with a Christmas quiz, so it doesn’t feel so lonely? He says we can’t do that, because he’s just recorded a seasonal message on the answering machine saying “Sod off, it’s Christmas.”

He says he’s willing, but his Christmas spirit is weak. And even after detailed explanations, his grasp of partying is non-existent. So I may flip out: cabin fever does strange things to people. If you see a news report of a desperate woman in sparkly reindeer antlers streaking through a Derbyshire village shrieking “Does anyone want to party?” you’ll know who it is.

old pic of me and dave

© Sue Hepworth/Times newspapers 2011

Sunday, December 18, 2011

My present suggestion

Is there a married woman over forty that you need to buy a present for and you’re totally stumped? ( Highly unlikely as it’s a cinch to buy presents for older women, unless they happen to be my sister Jen, who admits it and won’t be offended by my saying so here. Anyway, Jen – I have given you two this year to increase the chance of success. xx)

What was I saying – oh yes - Why not buy this married woman over forty BUT I TOLD YOU LAST YEAR THAT I LOVED YOU?  Amazon say they can deliver it by Christmas if you order it today. It is said to be "clever, funny, subtle, wry, sad and uplifting all at once...Sue Hepworth writes thoughtfully and insightfully, and with such tenderness and humour."

OK, enough hustling for a Sunday. Do you know what?  I can cope with mastectomies, I can cope with knee replacements, and I suffer no pain. But last night I was charging around in my socks and bumped into the bedpost and broke my toe and it HURTS! It really HURTS!

aug 07 010

I searched for an image of a broken toe on Google and the pics were so unpleasant – not because of the broken toes but because so many people have ugly feet – so I gave up and I’m putting this one here instead. (Yes, it’s summer. Remember summer?)

I just asked Dave why he has a propensity for taking pics of me on the slant and he came out with various odd reasons (as per usual) but ended up with “Well, it makes you think, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Dave. It makes me think: Why on earth do you do it?

Friday, December 16, 2011

Research papers for a novel – now binned

I’ve been chucking out more stuff, and it’s exhilarating.

This week I hoiked out an old wallet file from the filing cabinet entitled “Corin and Friends,”  which was my working title for Zuzu’s Petals. (Do you know what? I think Zuzu’s Petals was a rotten title.* Poor beleaguered novel – revolting pink frilly cover and a bad title. A good novel, badly packaged. Oh well.)  Here is Zuzu and her petals in It’s a Wonderful Life -

Anyway… i leafed through the newspaper cuttings which I saved to use for material. Here are some of them:

Glass of Swoosh, please – matching water to food is now de rigeur (remember the awful Charles and his thing about types of bottled water?)

An interview with David Hockney  (Corin so liked David Hockney)

Playing the moody hues – on tweaking colour for emotional impact (Corin was perfecting her digital photography)

Life goals for your 50s

Office English (actually I ended up using this in But I told you last year that I loved you – remember Chrissie’s husband Roger?)

Parkie Life (about the new breed of park-keeper. Includes references to guerilla gardeners – remember Tim?)

Life begins at 14 – an entire supplement on how to raise a healthy happy teenager (why on earth did I save that?)

Woolly Romans (Discovery that the Romans wore thick woolly socks with their sandals. That was for another book that never got finished. It was called The man who wore socks with his sandals. Great title!)

socks with sandals

Then there was -

Eat less and live to 130 – calorie restriction prolongs the life of rats but can it do the same for us? (Remember Rob and his aversion to eating?)

A fashion item on sleek cycling clothes for men. (Oh Rob – you and your Lycra.)

So now it’s all in the recycling bin, and the Bodleian will have to make do without it.

*I got the idea for the title of Zuzu’s Petals one day when I was wandering around Haight-Ashbury (doesn’t that sound cool?) I saw a flower shop called Zuzu’s Petals – and thought “That’s it! That’s it!” Unfortunately i don’t think it was.

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Hepworth’s hypothesis on short-term memory loss

For the past two weeks, I have been carrying my mother around in my head – or rather a yearning to see my mother. A hopeless melancholic wish to see her has been there at the end of every thought, as I finish every task, at every turn in the road, waking up in the morning, or settling down to sleep at night. Just when I thought I was not going to feel that sadness any more, it sweeps in and stays for a while.

But then yesterday, when the Higgs boson announcement was made, I cheered up. Not because I am into that kind of stuff, but because Ma was. I thought – Ah, she’d be so delighted. She and Dave would be talking excitedly on the phone about it, even now. And the weather changed in my head: weird.

Brains are odd. Mine is odd, anyway. My mother lives in there all of the time, mostly quietly and happily. I wonder if old people lose their short-term memories because their brains are so full of dead people they’ve lost that there isn’t enough room for all the new stuff they encounter.

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Christmas Appeal 2

You may have read about the illegal Israeli settlements in occupied Palestine. You may know that the Israelis are expanding their settlements, stealing the land and the water from Palestinians whose families have been living there for generations.

But did you realise that in order to build these illegal settlements, they are demolishing the homes of Palestinians?

At present there is a push against the Bedouin community, their homes, villages and schools. The Israeli Committee Against House Demolitions reports that in the past week since December 5th, 20 structures were demolished and at least 61 people displaced and left homeless.

A video taken on November 24th show the demolition of homes in the Bedouin community of Beit Hanina, leaving 20 people homeless, including 6 children. (Beit Hanina was bisected several years ago by an "apartheid road," Road 443, built by Israel for the exclusive use of Israelis.)

Here is another specific example from October: fifteen Israeli army jeeps and a bulldozer showed up at the rural community of Khan al-Ahmar, in the hills east of Jerusalem, and demolished five homes, displacing 71 people, including some 60 children.

If you care about this injustice and inhumanity, you could write to your elected representative and ask them to pressurise Israel to stop the demolitions, and the expansion of Jewish settlements.

You could also make a donation to a charity that works in Palestine to support Palestinians. Medical Aid for Palestinians is a non-governmental British charity with no agenda of violence, and works for the health and dignity of Palestinians living under occupation and as refugees. They give practical aid of all kinds, too many to list here, but which include mobile emergency clinics for Bedouins, the provision of equipment in hospitals in Gaza, and  therapy programs for traumatised children in Gaza (see my last post.)

Click here to make your donation. Thank you.

Monday, December 12, 2011

My Christmas appeal

If you enjoy reading my blog, perhaps you’d like to respond to my Christmas appeal.

On Christmas Eve three years ago, Mona ElFarra, a Palestinian doctor, wrote on her blog – From Gaza, with Love – the following:

…. the living conditions of the Palestinian children in Gaza, where children have no clean water, no bread, no safe homes, no safe schools, no safe playgrounds, no safe environment, no proper housing conditions, not enough medications, no electricity, no cooking gas and no entertainment facilities…while all the borders are strictly closed and nobody can get out no matter how great their need or wish.
While you are celebrating the Christmas and the New Year, think of Gaza children, think of the world as one family looking for peace and justice, looking for stability and happiness for all
I love you all
And again merry Xmas and happy New Year
Mona ElFarra

Just five days later she was blogging about the intense bombing campaign that Israel had started on Gaza, and I was blogging this (follow the link.) I blogged about Gaza for a month, until the bombing stopped.

Amongst other bombs, the Israeli army dropped white phosphorus, flachette bombs and DIME bombs in Gaza. It is illegal to use these weapons in civilian areas, but the Israeli army did it anyway.

The young children in the occupied Palestinian territory have had to live through horrendous atrocities: air strikes and rocket attacks by the Israeli military, death and destruction on an unimaginable scale and grinding poverty caused by decades of military occupation.

Many children in Gaza are deeply scarred by what they have witnessed. They are frightened, confused and angry and many still suffer from flashbacks, nightmares, bedwetting, sleep disorders and depression.

The British, non-governmental charity which has no agenda of violence – Medical Aid for Palestinians – is working to help these damaged children. To help children cope with trauma, MAP provides a programme of specialist care. They give children the time, attention, support and professional care that helps them to recover and begin to enjoy their lives, to be children again.They have helped many children so far - but there are still more who need our help. MAP's programmes save and improve the quality of lives in many ways - but none is more important than giving scared children the chance to just be children. Imagine if we could help more children who are hoping that someone will listen, giving them the space and time to find their feet again.

 Click here to make a donation today.

Click here to see MAP's programme in action.

Saturday, December 10, 2011

Saturday morning at home

Views over my garden wall this morning -

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I went to Bakewell to get some odds and ends, and in the Deli found myself explaining to three American women the difference between a Bakewell tart and a Bakewell pudding. They bought the pudding because I told them they could get a Bakewell tart from anywhere but you have to come to Bakewell to buy a Bakewell pudding. When I bumped into them later outside another shop, I almost, almost told them that if they went to the Bakewell Bookshop they could buy a signed copy of a novel set in Bakewell – namely, BUT I TOLD YOU LAST YEAR THAT I LOVED YOU. I couldn’t get over the almost, though. Do you think I should have done?

Now it is 11.47, and I have just spent a blissful half hour sitting on the sofa in front of the log burning stove, reading the Saturday paper with a mug of coffee in my hand, while Dave played me Christmas carols on his electric guitar. This afternoon, I may start work on with this…

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