The Isle of Colonsay

Today we visited Colonsay (pop. 100). There was so much to do – hills to climb, beaches to play on, beers to sample, mesolithic shell mounds to visit – that we’re just going to have to go back for a longer stay.

Herewith some piccies:

My arch nemesis Alan Jenkins - spotted at in the queue for the Jura ferry this morning.


The approach into Scalasaig, main population centre of Colonsay.


The most expensive fuel in the UK? (and, apparently, sold 'not for profit'...)


The small boy said his favourite part of the day was “going to the beach and getting soaked.”


Not looking forward to the school run next week...

Having the Best Time

Apologies for absence. I've been working quite hard, catching up with friends all over Scotland, doing tons of stuff with the kids, and just chilling out (i.e. reading books and watching the Olympics). Just come back from a long weekend on Skye with friends, followed by a drive through Glen Torridon on the way home. I think the photos say it all:

The Cullin, Skye.


The ridge above Staffin, north east Skye.


The hills of Torridon (on the mainland), from Skye.


Loch Torridon.


One of Glen Torridon's peaks, as viewed through the sunroof.


A rather distracting rear-view of Glen Torridon.


Loch Maree (and Kinlochewe) from the east.


It was just fab, and great source of story ideas!

Big Wide Open Spaces

Well, we survived the journey, despite yet another motorist on the M1 trying to smash his way through to the other carriageway. His accident occurred at almost exactly the same spot as the accident we witnessed in May (also on the way to Scotland), and, it must be said, as the accident in which my mother and I were involved in 1986. I think someone is trying to tell me something (to stick to the M40, perhaps). This time, however, there were no injuries. No hands needed to be held. And we carried on our way in awe of the severely bent, but intact, crash barrier. I really thought he was a gonner.

An hour later, and we were at Helenmh's where we finally got to meet Smudge (renamed 'Spludge' by the small girl). I thought Helen very brave to have us, considering that the small boy arrived with sick bowl in hand. But he was fine, and after a good natter and some great food, we were on our way again. We made an overnight stop at my sister's (more good food, more nattering, and a stupidly late night) before making the final push for the Highlands - only 460 miles to go, on five hours' sleep...

Three cans of Red Bull later and we pulled up outside what is now our home for six weeks. It is a tiny house (the kids are all in together), but it's really comfy, and we're loving it. It's not the inside, you see; it's the outside. There's lots of it. Lots.

Dettol & Dioralite

You can guess, can't you?

We've all had it, all five of us, in forty-eight hours. Actually, it's longer than that now, because the small boy threw up again today, over thirty-six hours after the last time (parents of other small children will understand why this is so unfair). Only this time he did it at school, at pick-up time, right in front of the assembled parents. He also managed to splat three other small children and a teacher in the process. Oh, God. [hides face in hands] I'm tired.

We leave for Scotland tomorrow. No more school now for small boy and, given that he had to take yesterday off too, we might as well have gone on Saturday... except for all the vomiting on Sunday, of course.

Have You Forgotten Something?

Do you ever get that feeling that you've left a half-finished cup of tea lying about somewhere? Or at a party, when you've put your glass down, moved away from it, and taken another glass? You never quite lose that feeling that there's something, somewhere, waiting for you.

I do it with shorties too. I think them up in my head during the school run (or whenever else I have no means of committing them to paper/silicon), and put them down somewhere while I wait for the chance to write them. I forget, of course, everything - the characters, the plot, the dialogue. The whole lot vanishes somewhere between thinking how brilliant it all is, and realising I can't remember a word. Just to make it worse, I never quite lose that feeling that I have forgotten something important. It is very erksome, and somewhat distressing.

Well, yesterday, I did it with chocolate. I put two squares of Dairy Milk down somewhere, and forgot where I left them. All afternoon and evening (school run, shopping trip, cooking, kids' bedtime, cinema) I could hear them calling (but not loudly enough for a positive location).

Well, having finally given up on them, I went to the fridge for some more, and you know what? There they were.

Some (admittedly, very small) part of my brain was actually working: I'd put the chocolate where the kids can't reach it, where it was sure not to melt, and where I'd be certain to find it again later.

If only I could be that clever with my missing shorties...

Determined - My Writing Word of the Moment

In November last year Womagwriter posted the following quote, pinched from J A Konrath’s blog:

There's a word for a writer who never gives up: Published

It struck a chord with me at the time, and even though months have gone by, this remark keeps popping into my head.

It is a welcome visitor just now. At the moment I am smothered with work, a mountain of washing, a house that is buried under five years’ (of not more) of junk, the demands of three small (but lovely) children, and endless paperwork of other people’s making. As soon as I stop to write, the whole world crashes down around me, and the result (not surprisingly) lacks lusture.

I can imagine that these are the circumstances under which people consider giving up; but I’m not. Why? Because of JAK’s remark. Because the only way to be one of the two in three thousand slush-pile survivors is to keep going. And because I don’t want them writing on my grave: “Could have made it, but didn’t try hard enough.”

What’s your 'writing word of the moment'?

I have to tell you that the highlighter is Photoshoppery; I don't want you thinking I'd do that to my beloved dictionary.

Tagged by JJ

What were you doing 10 years ago?
Loads of things. Not married. No kids. Nuff said.

Five things on your to-do list for today:
Finish reading one of Jane's shorties
Finish writing letter of complaint to dentist
Unpack stuff from weekend stay at my Dad's
Sort the washing
Write something

What are three of your bad habits?
Perfectionism.
Always being in a hurry, even when I'm running to schedule.
Spending an hour making just-a-little change to a story when I should be sorting the washing.

What would you do if you were a billionaire?
Write.

What are some snacks you enjoy?
Chocolate
Chocolate
Chocolate

What were the last five books you read?
You're Not the Only One, Sarah J. Peach, Ed. (in progress)
Daphne, Justine Picardie (in progress)
A Talent to Deceive, Robert Barnard - a biography of Agatha Christie (in progress)
On Edge, Dick Francis
Shattered, Dick Francis

What are five jobs you have had?
Gardener
Electronic-component assembler
Groom
Page-setter
Web-designer

Five places that you have lived?
Hertfordshire (hated it)
Yorkshire (loved it)
Hampshire (bearable)
Surrey (unbearable)
Australia (er, hot)

Tags: Maddie, Helenmh, Womag, Karen, and Lucy (cos she's got nothing better to do at the moment).

No Time

I've realised where all my time has gone, but I'm not quite sure why it has taken me this long to work it out (perhaps because I have a Brain of Mush), but at least I have worked it out.

This time last year I had a 4yo, a 2yo, and a 3mo baby, and I was writing a shorty a week. Now that the small boy is at school, and the small girl at playgroup every day, you'd think I'd be managing a shorty every day, but no...the baby has given up her morning nap.

Sounds trivial, doesn't it. Not exactly world-stopping news. Rather boring coffee-morning-type news, in fact (and I'm talking here about mothers' coffee mornings, rather than the somewhat more interesting Novel Racers' coffee mornings).

But a year ago, when both the baby and the small girl were napping, I had ten hours a week in which I could reckon to write effectively (my brain doesn't work in the evenings). This dropped to about six hours a week, and, now, I have none.
None!
And that's it, until the baby starts playgroup in fifteen months time.

But, you know what? In fifteen years time, I want to look back on this pre-school bit and remember it as a time I enjoyed with the kids. So often, in teashops and such places, older women come up to me (with my children) and say, 'make the most of them, they grow up so quickly', and I think, yeah, yeah, you've forgotten how hard it is; but they haven't. They just know that this is a really good bit. So, despite the six hours a day I'll get in a few years time, I'm not in a hurry for my kids to trot off to school.

Not even when I wish I could write more.

Firm Foundations

And so, whilst trying to make space for my laptop, amongst all the stuff that has crept back onto my desk, I realised that my tidying-up dominoes were all still lying along the same path, still leading to the loft.

To that end, I went back to the DIY store, and came home laden with twelve packs of tongue and groove boarding - weighing 14kg each - yes, I weighed them, after carrying the first eleven from the car to the loft - and a box of 100x no.6, 40mm wood screws (I just love dazzling you with the technicalities).

Some days later (I don't know how many; I lost all sense of time) I clambered back down the loft ladder with a painful case of housemaid's knee, builder's back, and a rather wild stare; but a loft you could walk across with your eyes closed.


--Take Your Life in Your Hands--------------Boarded!

And so, I ticked another one off the list of...
Jobs to be Done in the Loft:
1. Put lights up
2. Put boards down
3. Tidy up
4. Contact builder/electricians/window people/carpet people to quote for work
5. Plasterboard loft
6. Watch builder/electrician/window people/carpet people do their jobs
7. Struggle up ladder with furniture
8. Relax with nice view over the Sussex weald, and a large glass of Merlot
9. Get writing!

Easy, I thought, on to number three. Ahem...I've been having a bit of trouble with number three. It has developed a number of sub-clauses, not apparent when I originally wrote the list:
3a. Open loft hatch
3b. Pull down ladder
3c. Climb ladder, and stick head into loft space
3d. Switch on lights
3e. Survey loft, and decide upon Tidying Order-of-Events
3f. Switch off lights
3g. Remove head from loft space, and climb back down ladder
3h. Push ladder up
3i. Close loft hatch
3j. Walk away quickly, hoping that there have been no witnesses
3k. Tell lies about how much time has been occupied by children/work/domestic chores all day
3l. Add 'Tidy Loft' to tomorrow's list of jobs

You're Not the Only One

Ah, just what I needed: A hit!

My contribution to the You're Not the Only One anthology has been included! This book has been produced by Peach, and Bloggers for Charity, for the benefit of War Child, a charity helping children in war zones.

I have done so little writing in the last six weeks, that I was beginning to wonder if I would simply drift away from it. I have not been able even to shoehorn writing time into my life recently, so full has it been with work (interesting enough) and children (marvellous) and, well, other stuff (...[insert your chosen adjective here]...). This hit has given me a tremendous boost, just as I am beginning to drag myself out of the mire.

What unusual timing...

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You can buy You're Not the Only One from Lulu, by clicking on the button. (It'll offer you two copies to begin with, for print and/or download copies, so be careful when deleting one of them.)