Just a note.

Had some friends round today, with 2 kids, ages 8 and 10. Both terrified of Henry (the golden retriever). Poor little things, their hearts were banging like mad, he must look so huge to them. Had to lock him up and he sulked for hours later.

Hubby and I have had a burst of energy (don't know where it's come from) we have decided to paint the lounge ready for Xmas. It needs it, I have been banging on about it for over 12 months. With having a coal fire, the room gets very mucky very quickly. We are going for a very deep red, a fire earth colour called Dragon's blood, kids think it's horrible. So I guess it must be very nice in that case.

Hooray!

I have finished my novel. Hooray! Feels wonderful and scary. Now I am editing it and adding the in fills, which tie it together and hopefully will be done in a couple of weeks. Thanks to those of you who are proof reading for me. It's very much appreciated. The scary part is now to come when I send it out and wait, and wait, and wait, and then get a rejection slip. God I am so dreading that. However, I am not being negative (only a bit) trying to keep positive (not doing very well) upwards and onwards to the next stage as I keep telling myself.

Had the mother in law to stay over the weekend, which was nice, she's a lovely lady and I enjoy having her here. Nevertheless, I went round the house like a demented cleaning lady in the hopes she didn't find cobwebs or anything she shouldn't. The Hoover was smoking by the end of the whizz around the house. This week I can relax and let it all go to pot again.

My hubby (now the novel is finished) is on at me to send it out. I keep telling him I can't yet, it has to be 100% ready - I think this might be me procrastinating - but I should literally die if I did send out submissions and by fluke was asked for whole thing and I wasn't in a position to follow through. I think he thinks it's going to be "loads of money" I keep telling him not to hold that dream, there is only 1 JK Rowling, and then tell him about dear Annie and how slow the whole process is - he pulls a face like he's bitten into a lemon when I explain the reality - at least this keeps him off my back.

On a lighter note, xmas is nearly here - bar humbug- I hate xmas, I hate the run up, the spending, the hassle (I think I've already said this in another post). This year my cousin will be in Australia and so it will be us 4, mother in law and my grumpy parents, all in all a jolly old time - NOT! I want to go away. Nobody else does. I said I'd be happy going on my own! They won't let me. Miserable beggars. So, I suppose I'll be cooking - again.

Have been bogged down with helping my daughter with homework these last 2 weeks, and feel that my brain is frazzled beyond repair. I hated it when I was at school and I hate it now. She gets so much it's ridiculous. My son never got anything like what she does. My heart dips each night she comes home and tells me what she's got in store for that night.

My darling Henry (the dog) has taken (for some mad reason known only to dogs) to humping my cream coloured (expensive) curtains in the morning room. Only though, when he comes back after a walk all muddy and is washed down, still damp with traces of dirt in his coat. He does it when I'm not looking, the cheeky swine. It takes me over half an hour, a bucket of warm water with detergent and a cloth to wipe the dirt off again.

As soon as I am ready to post off subs I will let you know so you can all give me shoulder to cry on.

Back Again.

Well, it's been several months since I last blogged. I know, I am rubbish at this, but truly when I sit down to do it, i find, gosh I have nothing interesting to say.

Well in the time I've been away I have been to France for a Holiday and southern England. Had wonderful time in both places. Very hot in France and very relaxing in England.

I am so determind to finish my novel "Going off the rails" by the beginning of October. I have 20k to go and will be done by infills as I call them. The story is done, now I just have to add bits that are missing to keep continuity. I love it and think it's a great story, I'm hoping an agent and publisher will too. I have my faithful readers doing their bit and have just had a wonderful offer from a male friend, kev, to read it for me so I can get a male prospective on it. (Not a boy book though, very girlie, hope he enjoys it.) Thanks to Fia and Annie who have both said they'd help out with the proof reading. Thanks girls, much appreciated.

After this will be sending it off to Lynne Patrick for some professional feed back, (fingers crossed) and from then on we'll wait and see.

For those of you interested, Henry, is huge, gorgeous and brilliant. Having said that, the little blighter has just leaped up onto the Aga and pinched my lunch. So now he's in solitary with a grumpy face cos I shouted at him and pulled said lunch out of his mouth. It's a stubborn thing with me, I won't let him eat it if he's nicked it, even if he bites my hand. He never has, just looks at me solemnly to make me feel bad. I do what i do with hubby, I don't look at the face when I know they're trying to get round me. Best bit of advice I ever got.

Charlotte my youngest started high school this September and made me feel old and sad that she's so grown up. Girls are so much harder than boys. Blimey they are so complicated.

Hubby keeps banging on as to when is book going to be finished. I will be banging him on the head with the frying pan soon. Don't they all, these none writers, think it's sooo easy to write a book and why does it take you so long. F...... O.. . is what I want to say.

We're talking about decorating the lounge for xmas, have been since last year, still I can't face it. i want to get somebody in, hubby is digging his heels in. So I'm now saying " book won't get written if I have to decorate!"

I'm being taken out for the day on the 12th October by my cousin, for a suprise, apparantly i need to be free from 8am to 6pm, and she won't tell me why or what for. I hate suprises. There was a time when I hated leaving the kids, now I hate leaving Henry. Oh yeah, the husband comes into the thoughts some of the time too!!!

Henry learnt to swim at the weekend. We took him to a beautiful lake in Goostry and finally he swam. It was a wonderful time for us.

Unfortunatly, I don't think Henry is into literature, he nicked my novel (the one I'm reading not writing) the other week and took it to his favourite place in the garden, when I went to find him I also found my novel in a million pieces. I don't think he likes chick lit.

I'd best stop rabbiting on and get to doing some real writing.
Hopefully this won't be the last entry for months. I will try and keep at it.

Cook Till You Drop!

I have been baking all day today, with my ten year old daughter who absolutely adores Doris the Aga. We have made chocolate eclairs and a carrot cake. Since we got the Aga we bake and bake and bake. I will be the worlds biggest women if we carry on like this.

I love my Aga and can't believe it took me so long to get one. Just to add that I've just popped into the simmering oven to cook at a gentle heat, some leak and potato soup for tomorrow lunch time. Domestic Goddess I am!!! Nigella move over.

Oh God not again!

I woke up the other day to the wonderful aroma of dog poo, again. Yes, darling Henry has done it again. Was I pissed off at 6am? Just a tad. So, after hosing and cleaning I was knackered and ready to jump back into bed, but was too scared to leave him again in case he pooped once again.

Normally, I like to wake up to the smell of fresh coffee, obviously Henry appears to have a different idea at the moment. I love him dearly, but you can have too much of a good thing. However, while sat in the vets, at £60 a time, this is what it costs for the jabs and special food to clam his bottom, I realise it was probably my fault. I gave him a tiny bit of chees and I know that some dogs are Lactose intolerant, it would appear that, yes, Henry might well be. I hope so, and nothing more scary.

Vodka, Vodka where are you?

You will all know that I am partial to a little or rather a large VAT. (for those of you not in the know that is a vodka and tonic.) Well on many occasions I have gone to pour out my favourite tipple and stood with amazement looking at the nearly if not empty bottle. And my question has been, 'Who has been drinking my VODKA!' Now, as there isn't another voddy drinker in the house, it can only be one other person ... Henry. See from the picture above the tale tale signs of a drunken dog.

What would men do without women ... everything!

The title says it all!!
On Thursday, I decide to go out with the kids (husband at work) to do a bit of shopping and lunching. Then on my way home, I stop off at a chemist to pick up a prescription when I get a manic phone call. Grabbing my phone out of my bag in a hurry, (the shop is small and very very quiet, so my phone sounds like a really bad case of tinnitus) I hear my husband in a state of panic. Apparently he's come home early to find that Henry has eaten the cat flap and has his head stuck in the hole. Not only this, but he's got the runs (dog not husband) and it stinks. conversation goes like this.
"Oh God Mercedes, the dog's eaten the cat flap!" I don't know what he thinks I can do. "Bloody Hell, there's a horrid smell in here too, Oh God! he's pooed everywhere, it stinks, Oh God! He's rolled in it."
I say, "Get him outside and leave him, can you clean it up?" Silence, this is where he has selective hearing.
So, I get home and the poor dog has a mucky backside and is so happy to see me that he tries to jump up, so now I am covered in it. But this doesn't faze me, what does is that the man of the house is hidden away in the lounge, with all the windows open and has not gone near the poo. so I have to clean it up and wash Henry down with the help of the kids, then rush him to the vets. Luckily, we put the cat flap together and don't think he's swallowed anything. I suspect he had the runs and in a panic not to soil the utility where he's locked up when we go out he tried to get out of the cat flap. Bless him.

I thought men were supposed to be all strong and manly. John Wayne types. Ha! more like Kenneth Williams if you ask me.

What would men do without women ... everything!

Don't you think my Henry looks like Dumbo!

What A Pisser.

Je-ZUS H Christ! I am so sick of this rain but more than that, I am sick of these bloody weather people getting it wrong for my part of the world.

For the last 2 days I have gone out in the pouring rain to walk the dog. Hat on. Wellies on. Waterproof on. (not very waterproofy, got soaked.) And five minutes after I arrive home the rain stops. Yes it stops for at least 5 hours if not most of the day. I could have waited until then to go out for walkies, but the clever weather people said it would rain all day with no breaks. Grrrrrr. And to top it all my sodding hair looks like a nightmare! I HATE THE RAIN!

Funnily enough, Henry appears to have the same problems with his hair. He goes all curly and around the ears he looks as if he's been crimped. I think he's coming out in sympathy. bless him. Despite being a Golden he looks like a blacken after the muddy walks.

Upwards and Onwards.

You know sometimes I wonder, 'why do I fucking bother!' Without going into grimy details, of which will bore the hell out of you all, I wonder why we put ourselves up for a slapping time and time again.

Jealousy is a nasty affliction.

When you're trying to do something that's important to you, something that you really care about and it's different from the masses, you'd expect support from your nearest. wouldn't you? Ha and double fucking Ha! once upon a time iIdid too. Not so now. Why I hear you ask? Well, it kind of goes like this.

I write, granted I'm not published, but some day I hope to be. It's not as easy as every tosser out there thinks. But I don't want to give up. I love it. I want to succeed. I want it very badly. BUT, and here is the crux. Those around me think I should give up because it's not happened, and won't, because it hasn't, so why carry on. To me, those are the thoughts of a coward. One who is afraid of persevering when all around drop out. It's a hard business and one where you need support. Not put downs. I can do 'put downs' very well by myself, I don't others to as well.

I'm not very happy as you can tell by me scribbling. In fact I'm very sad.

Recently I was told by a friend whom I haven't seen for a long time, and who has just read my blog that she thinks I'm funny (each to their own) and that she finds me very entertaining (again, that's here say) but nevertheless, it made me smile and warmed my soul. For a nanosecond. Because in my flush of praise I show this to a certain person and they mock. Yes they do. They mock and be-little it. How can that be? What does she mean, entertaining? Are you a magician or something? I had no verbal daggers to throw, because quite frankly, the mocking and disparaging way it was said went very deep.

And this is why I say 'I don't know why I fucking bother.' Sometimes you have to bask in the praise others give you on your own, if you don't want to get shot down in flames by those whom you think are by your side.

This is a lesson I keep on learning. But obviously have some mental retentive disorder, because I stupidly keep DOING IT! Again and again and again.

One day though, I hope to God that I will be the one laughing with derision while I sidle off to my launch party. One day maybe......

I sound Like a Fish Wife!

I have had a scary day today. Henry decided to escape. We have one part of the garden that is not fenced in. It's only a little part and he knows not to go there, and on the most part he is pretty brilliant. But today whilst I was collecting his poop, he decides to go through the little gap. Of course, as soon as I realise I scream like a fish wife STOP and miraculously he does. I then scream in a very panicky voice, (because at the end of this road is a fairly busy road) STAY. Then I run round to the front of the house in my dressing gown (it's early morning) with my coat over the top, my hair a jumbly mess and no makeup and call him to come. And he does! Amazing! I was so proud he got spoilt all day long with loads of little treats. I think perhaps he realised I was makeupless and would cause a real commotion if anyone saw so he came back. What a gent.

Nothing else to report, except took the tree down today because fed up with it, and I'm such a Scrooge I couldn't bear it up another day. All those sodding needles everywhere! I have to say I was not impressed with hubby who sat on the sofa reading the papers whilst I struggled to pull the prickly bastard out of its pot then drag its dead carcass out of the door while it left all its sharp pointy bits on my carpet. (This is the tree not the hubby - though i would have liked to do that to him too.)