The calm after ...

The house is quiet. I do enjoy a bit of peace after social things. M has buzzed off to help out a cousin with some voluntary technical stuff. I have just browsed the Archers’ website and see that everyone is back – being either witty and clever, or sometimes rather murderous – but generally entertaining. It’s as if addicts can’t wait to be back behind the screen after a couple of days of turkey and stuffing – stuffing themselves, that is.

We had a relatively quiet day yesterday, but went to a neighbour get-together on Christmas Eve and spent Christmas Day with my brother-in-law and friends. He - M’s brother – whilst following in the family tradition of being a Male Chauvinist (person) is nevertheless, unlike his older brother, a very good cook and entertained us royally with turkey and all the rest of the frills. We took a very extravagant chocolate cake with us, but had to bring half back as Bro-i-L said he would never eat all of it on his own. So yesterday, we had slices of choc cake; chocolate truffles; chocolate liqueurs and I still raided my secret supply of chocolate buttons. We did go for a short walk and possibly walked off the effects of one champagne truffle each. New leaves will be called for shortly.

I finished off the Reading Circle book, by Anita Shreve, very quickly. I didn’t care for the title – Eden Close – and it would not in itself have prompted me to read it. Was the title meant to be ambiguous? – it sounded like a location, not a person’s name. I was also prejudiced against it immediately because, like Tenderness of Wolves, it was in the present tense with strays into the past. It’s something I rarely do, with the possible exception of a short story, where I’m occasionally more experimental. I’ve heard it said, ‘It’s so immediate.’ Frankly, I don’t feel that way - I find it distracting and I have to work at ignoring it. There is a tradition of writing in the past tense – after all the present becomes the past immediately – and you have perfect tenses and plu-perfect to place the story further back into the past.

Having said that, once I got on to the relationship between the main protagonists, I was hooked; it really did have, for me page turning qualities, and a very satisfying build-up towards a climax. There were parts of it which were very sensitively written with insightful demonstrations of people’s genuine emotions and we mostly stayed in the head of the main character, got to know him and appreciate his personality. A genuine good read in my view. Now I’m reading a non-fiction book, The 43 Group, about people who fought fascism in London in the post-war period. My cousin was one of their number, hence my interest.

But having had a lazy morning, I’m debating whether to go to Guildford and see what the sales have to offer. And return some trousers that were too tight – and that was before Christmas.

Tidying up; curling up; going out; staying in

Ploughing through the paper mountain on my desk, I came to a list. It was a fairly old list with items on it that had been transferred several times. On glancing at it, I was thrilled to see that the first item – Carpet – which had been on there for probably nine months – could be erased. And so could Defrost freezer, and so too Email D-i-L about the children’s presents – and I’d updated the Guildford Writers’ Website recently, too. What joy. It was too late for the Writers’ News Swimming short story competition and too late to worry about further invites here this year. With glee, I scrapped the whole list. I’ll start again in a couple of weeks.

Preparing for my visitors on Sunday, I looked up roasted peppers on the net. I came to one site which said: ‘You can roast and blacken peppers on the burner directly over the gas flame. Have a fire extinguisher handy.’ This is not the one for me, I thought.

There were no disasters at my dinner party, and everyone seemed to get on well. I was tired though, after what seemed to be the entire day cooking. I really do not like entertaining. I should like to send out an announcement to all my friends: I’m a really good guest – I’m much better at that than at being a hostess.

We were going to invite neighbours over on Saturday night – well in fact we did, but most of them seem to be doing something else. As each family politely declined, waves of relief washed over me (to use a cliché). Tomorrow, I will cancel the event and inform the couple of people who have yet to contact me.

For the whole of this freezing cold week, I have wanted to go into hibernation. Animals have got it right. They know we should be curled up in a small ball in our bedding quarters. Each day, I have had to force myself to go out, clear layers of ice from my equally reluctant car and go off into the world. Today, I have succumbed and stayed at home.

On Monday, we had a Goldenford (www.goldenford.co.uk) meeting and a post mortem on recent events. We also discussed our forthcoming books. Anne Brooke’s Thorn in the Flesh is now with the printers. We should get the sample copy early in January and will be ready to order very soon. I think it will be very successful, as it’s a gripping read. I’ve also sent off the new PDF file on Gawain.

Yesterday, Irene and I went to The Deli, to give readings of our respective books, and were delighted that even on such a cold night, we were able to sell some books. We were so impressed at the hospitality which Claire and Matt of The Deli provided, and at the wonderful array of goods which they had for sale. They are going to hold more literary events, so keep an eye open for them, if you are in the area. And if you want to buy from an independent and individual food supplier, pay them a visit as soon as possible, in the flesh or at their website: www.capegoldbiltong.co.uk. Their address is: 119 Lynchford Road, North Camp Farnborough, Hampshire GU14 6ET.

On Tuesday, we were selling at the Craft Fair at the Farnham Maltings. It was a very successful sale and we had a lot of fun. A moment of crisis when Jennifer upset hot chocolate over the table, but we recovered. People were attracted to our stall by Irene’s Thai dragons and then several were interested in our books. We are benefiting from having a range to offer – my book, A Bottle of Plonk is in my view contemporary; although set in the late eighties, I cannot regard that as historic. Since it is about people and their interaction with each other, such things do not changed dramatically in twenty years. The Gawain Quest is a historical mystery; The Moon’s Complexion a romantic thriller set in India and Sri Lanka; Pink Champagne is concerned with a gay transvestite. And we also have short stories and my autobiographical book, The Fruit of the Tree. Next year possibly another four books will be available. There’s something for everyone at Goldenford.

Ups and downs in life and books

I am currently imprisoned in my mini office or study or whatever you want to call it. Actually, it’s a good place to be because with the door closed and the computer on, it’s quite cosy and outside the window, it looks decidedly chilly. I have a carpet fitter here, as for some time, we’ve been concerned about a threadbare patch of carpet in a very obvious place. He came to look, today, and then said he’d deal with it there and then. He’s cut a bit from one place and put it in another; what’s more he’s going to clean it too. Consequently, I can’t really move into any of the areas where work is in progress.

We’ve had rather a grim few days. M’s medication caused problems, which resulted in us spending an evening – well up to 2.30 a.m. actually – at the local Casualty. (Thank goodness for the Surrey County – they haven’t succeeded in closing it yet.) Then I got an infection and had to go on anti-biotics. But hopefully, we’re both OK now.

On our way to Casualty, the internal workings of my car made the most appalling racket. Bearing in mind it was the same day that the car had been serviced, I wasn’t best pleased. When M was feeling back to normal, he took it back for me. He had to go in that direction, and I really wanted him to do the grumbling. (I’m not very good at that in the flesh, though my grumpy letters are normally quite potent.) However, when they opened the car up, they found a conker in the innards. M & I speculated how it could have got there – after all, it’s not even conker time now, is it? M’s cousin – a car engineer – suggested that some small animal had attempted to make a nest in the underneath of the car, attracted by the warmth, and the conker had been drawn in by the air system. Then perhaps during the service, it had moved into a position where we became aware of it. As you know, animals love to come and occupy our space.

I’ve been working on the changes to the PDF file on Gawain, one of the Goldenford books (http://www.goldenford.co.uk/), before we get a reprint, and I’ve just sent off my final version to the others for any comments. We hope to get our printing orders in for additional books in the new year, along with Thorn in the Flesh and Pink Champagne.

Tonight, I’m at the reading circle to dispense my thoughts on Tenderness of Wolves. My main feeling was it tried to cover too much, in terms of characters. When I wrote Tainted Tree, my focus was on one main character. Perhaps this was too narrow, but I think the reader’s sympathies should not be dissipated by having to cope with too many characters and sub-plots. Bear in mind, I’m not talking about Russian novels, but anything characterised by the term ‘a good read’, and by the end of T of W, I had begun to find my interest in what happened to all of them was wearing thin. It also moved too slowly towards a climax. A story should move rapidly in an uphill direction to a peak, very near the end, in my opinion. This was jogging along on a plateau. But then, who am I too comment? Not a winner of the Costa Prize, that's or sure.

I’ve been listening to Dombey and Son serialised on Women’s Hour, and of course it’s possible that it has been edited to remove too many sub-plots – I haven’t read it, so I don’t know – but it does seem that Dickens has concentrated on the main characters, and though there are sub-plots, there is a sort of hierarchy of interest, with Florence Dombey at the top of the tree. It’s worked for me; I’ve listened avidly to all three weeks of it.

Having dealt with Thorn and Gawain, next job is to complete the Christmas cards and prepare for a dinner party this weekend. Then it seems the way will be clear for me to start on the edit of Tainted Tree. There can’t be anything else happening in the next couple of weeks.

The answer’s in a lemon

There are some days when you wake up knowing that neither brain nor moving parts are working properly. Today was one of those days. I had booked an MOT and service for my car, but if felt as if I needed one myself.

Driving along, I couldn’t seem to stay in a straight line, as I adjusted wipers, radio, temperature, etc. And I overshot the garage and had to do a three point turn in another premises. Then when the receptionist asked me for my mobile number, I gaped at her idiotically. ‘I don’t know it,’ I confessed.

Walking into Guildford then felt like hard work; my legs and hips ached. I tried to remember what I had done the previous day to cause this, but nothing came to mind except putting lemon juice on my fish last night. A friend claims she always suffers from rheumatics if she has lemons. Has anyone else encountered this?

I spent some time browsing and bought some trousers and sweaters – just for me – no gift receipts required. Then to HMV for High School Musical for GD1, as part of her birthday present. Alas, another shopping trip will be called for. But my car was ready, and I had no energy for continuing. But when I collected it, I noticed one of the hub caps was missing. It must have come off during the road test, because they couldn’t find it. So another trip back is on the cards.

M got over his procedure very quickly. If you think I sound a little casual at what sounds a very major event, I am only taking my cue from him. There’s no pain; he’s in and out of the hospital in a morning and he loves being surrounded by young nurses making a fuss of him. However, a couple of days ago, he developed an infection under his tooth – same problem as a few weeks ago, and I was really sorry for him. He’s had a couple of bad nights and had to take painkillers; he was even reduced to having porridge for lunch.

Meanwhile, on the work front, I have polished off all the invoices dictated last week and the end of month statements. I’ve also dealt with Thorn in the Flesh, Anne’s ‘woman in jeopardy’ novel, to the best of my ability, and it will soon be ready to go to the printer. Anne (www.myspace.com/annebrooke) is organising the cover. Hopefully, the book will be ready for launch in the early part of next year, to be followed in May by Tainted Tree.

But Tainted Tree is still in abeyance, as the next Goldenford (www.goldenford.co.uk) job is to create a new PDF file on Gawain, to take in some changes. And Christmas cards have started arriving, so I must check up on my Christmas list. Last week, when I was listening to Katharine Whitehorn, I heard her saying how supportive her husband was, and I thought how some women with high-powered careers seem to have husbands who don’t mind doing the mundane stuff at home. Almost – it seems – like a wife. Now that’s what I could do with – a wife.

Larks, owls and other birds

What a long day. M has once again had to have his heart stopped and restarted, or as a friend rather wittily put it, 'He's been rebooted.'

I had to get up at the crack of dawn - well actually, in the middle of night in my terms - about 6.30 a.m. - to get him to the hospital. I have friends who say how wonderful it is to get up early; I couldn't share their enthusiasm; by 11 a.m. I was exhausted and ready for bed, though I continued to muddle through the day. M never has any difficulty in getting up; but he sleeps through all the evening television.

When I collected M, two people pulled in behind me in the tiny car park, as I was about to attempt to reverse into a better position. I was almost at right angles to them but had to try to straighten up to create more space for them. To my embarrassment, the car not only kept slipping back on the slight incline, but stalled as well, at least half a dozen times. When I finally managed to right it, I half expected a burst of applause, but the elderly man with frame, manfully making his way to the entrance, a la Mrs. Overall, (from the car behind) did not look so inclined.

M, condemned to staying put because of the general anaesthetic, kept thinking of activities he'd like to be doing. In the end, to stop him wandering outside and playing in his workshop with unsuitable things, I had to suggest we polished off the invoices. So more office work to sort out tomorrow. I dared not send them out today, without checking them. With my brain in sleep mode, I could easily have sent them out with the pounds in the pence column.

And now, as a special treat, my bird pictures, from which you will see that the jay and the green woodpecker, which I shot from my office and kitchen window, repsectively, a few days ago, seem eager to escape from the photos. It's the best I can do. I'll try again another time.

A housewife's lot ...

Two more tasks completed and maybe soon I’ll be able to get to the Tainted Tree edit and also my book for the reading circle, The Tenderness of Wolves by Stef Penney. Though the prospect of starting on business and personal Christmas cards looms and I must also make a trip into Guildford to get birthday presents for two of the grandchildren. Still I have been working hard during the last few days, and I do have some feeling of satisfaction. I spent a large part of Friday cooking. I made a vegetable terrine and some onion soup, for the vegetarian ProdigalD, spouse and GD2, who were coming back from Switzerland on Friday evening, as well, of course, as our own meal – and loads of roast potatoes and veg for five people. Disappointingly, they were very late and exhausted and could hardly do justice to the meal. We had had to start a couple of hours before them.

They left shortly after breakfast and I had resolved to tackle defrosting the chest freezer. The ice on the rim was thick and hard and I was getting more and more worried that the temperature within was not as cold as it should be. But while the wasps were paying their regular visits to the utility room, I was reluctant to spend time there; or, in fact, to open it when vast amounts of poison had been sprayed into the atmosphere. Fortunately, about a week ago, there was a frost. I don’t like being cold, but there are times when it’s a necessary evil. At any rate, it appeared to have done the trick; there were only a couple more dead bodies on the floor, and then no appearance of any flying creatures. I just hope they haven’t found a little haven in there in which to start a new nest next year. So I cleared all the stuff from the freezer, wrapped it up in the spare room with the towels the family had just used – might as well get some more use out of them before starting on the marathon wash – and started chipping away. M offered me a steamer; I blenched when he unearthed it from his workroom; it had only been used twice and it was covered with dust and tar. He filled it up getting water all over the floor. At this point I banished him. He didn’t mind - there was rugby on the TV - and I cleaned up the thing and then found it quite useful. When I’d finished, I found another towel for M to wipe up the water in bottom of the freezer. I could quite see that if I attempted to reach the bottom, my feet would start waving in the air.

While I worked I listened to the new Frederick Raphael serial on the radio. I’ve forgotten the name and I hadn’t really followed the plot; I just listened to the witty dialogue, which I think is all that matters. And talking of wit, I loved listening to Katharine Whitehorn’s memoirs last week – Unreliable Memories, I think it was called. I thought she was a woman after my own heart when she confessed on Any Questions many yonks ago that her bra strap was done up with a safety pin.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I completed the VAT yesterday, with days to spare. Then M & I went off to a supper quiz with a team of friends. Great fun, though we didn’t win.

I notice from a brief look at my various site statistics that whenever I mention chocolate brownies there is a flurry of interest. Readers, if you're that keen, just let me know and I'll supply the recipe. Regretfully, I cannot supply virtual slices. My computer won't allow it.

Stripping down and taking off

The week is rapidly going into a descent. From a family birthday party on Sunday, a a visit from the Prodigal D staying over with husband and GD2, before taking off to Heathrow, to er take off again (to Switzerland) and a very productive day on Tuesday, to stripping down the Dyson today and having to go to Sainsbury’s too, today, there has been a definite downward move.

The wretched Dyson was spitting out as much as it was taking in and there was no option but to change my clothes and get out my Phillips’ screwdriver (just showing off about my technical know-how). The Dyson is supposed to be such a brilliant design (or is everyone now disillusioned?) but is there anyone who doesn’t get covered in dust when they remove the lower part and extract one week’s intake? In this case, I had to change the filters, take off the cone and clean that up, and remove the base plate and dig out what seemed like a bird’s nest from the underneath and inside. (I used another screwdriver for that). Then I was left with three parts to put back and experienced a moment of panic. How had I got the thing back together last time? Was I going to have to leave the bits for M to reinstate? But no, suddenly, everything clicked into place, and all I had to do then was dump my clothes in with the other washing and vacuum all the bits that had spread themselves on to the floor. All in all the operation took nearly an hour of my – at the moment – very precious time.

I’ve had a couple of good sessions on the VAT earlier in the week, and on Tuesday, another productive Goldenford (http://www.goldenford.co.uk/) meeting. When I got home, that evening, instead of wasting the time, I printed out four stories and ready to send to a competition. It’s a while since I’ve sent anything off, and I had been meaning to do this for some time. They were due in at the end of this month. I’ve also spent some time updating my website http://freespace.virgin.net/jackie.luben) with information on Tainted Tree. That took another evening, but once again, has been bothering me. I’ve also been wondering how difficult it would be to transfer the whole lot to a site with my domain name. Any advice on that would be appreciated. I’ve also updated the Guildford Writers’ News page, (http://www.guildfordwriters.net/) and will soon be starting on the Goldenford website with the latest information about Tainted Tree and Anne Brooke’s (http://www.annebrooke.com/) Thorn in the Flesh. The Goldenford hot-line has been buzzing with discussions about blurbs and logos. Too much time seems to have been wasted on other emails, to be read and responded to and similarly letters – and still the tower on my desk gets higher. Also had to chauffeur M to and from his garage for his van’s MOT.

I was going to upload – just for Anne’s sake – a photo of the visiting green woodpecker, as well as a jay that’s been feeding just outside the kitchen door. But it will have to wait, for I must return to the VAT and the proposed shopping this afternoon, or there will be complaints from Customs & Excise, who may whisk me away to repay my debt to society, and also from M, as there are no bananas left in the house.