Well it's been a long time since I wrote on here and not a lot has happened, well unless you can call having my ms rejected. But there is light at the end of the tunnel, one agent gave me advice, so now I am back to the drawing board and well on my way with re-writes.
The sun is out and my spirits are lighter, my mojo is back and drinking is my cuddly toy once again. Husband has been out doing some gardening and landscaping and I have been giving advice from the window. I hate gardening and have a bad back, which has got worse recently after stacking a load of logs. Stiff and creaking is what I am at the moment, this getting older is no fun at all.
My kids are at an age when they feel it is their right to tell me how I look and how I should look. I keep quiet and boil quietly inside. I think I have a pretty good idea of what suits me by now. Of course, these teenagers know it all. As I said to my 14 nearly 15 year old son, 'Do you want me to wear my trousers half way down by arse?' I did so and he was horrified. Baffled, I asked if this was not being trendy enough. His look of horror and disgust bounced from his eyes. I have to laugh, now, when they comment, I copy their dress code and this soon shuts them up.
I had my mother over last week, bless her, she means well, but she does drive me crazy. She came over to tell me that I should do this and should do that. If there is one word in the English language that gets my goat, it is 'should.' This raises my hackles and I growl inwardly. Every time she comes round, she has to do this. Why can she not just have a bit of fun and accept that we're all different? Aah, I forgot, if we're not like her, we're mental.
Talking of mental, my car was in the dock last week and I had a little VW Polo to whizz around in. My normal car is a guzzler 4X4, I know, I know and i will change it soon. I was so impressed with this nippy little form of transport that I kept popping out for things. Oops forgot the milk. Oops forgot the bread. Oops forgot the children. My kids thought it was cool, but trendy teenager said it didn't suit me. 'Why not?' I questioned, disappointed, cos I thought it did. 'Well it's just not you, Mum, that's why?' Aah, I see ,that explains it then. I have no idea what that meant and he couldn't elaborate any more on it, suffice to say, that he has a certain image of his mother that is different to his mother's.
Until the next time.