Oh, I do love to be beside the seaside!

Went to Burnham-on-sea to recharge the batteries because, let me tell you, I’m hardly a Duracell-man (or -woman, as the case may be). My batteries had been running low for a while, especially after a few near-lethal short circuits experienced this year.

So we went paddling by the boats –


Head-butting the goats –


Sitting on a fence –


Losing common sense –


Being swept away –


Calling it a day –


Getting bruised in Devon

With the best of intentions I organised this PGL adventure. I could still pretend that it was for my child more than myself. All that childish stuff of climbing walls, throwing yourself off rocks, competing to the top of Jacob’s ladder against fifteen-year old boys and their alpha-male dads  – all that would be just perfect for Daughter and Daughter’s Friend. Whilst this year the girls are just into face-painting, next year next year they will be into make-up, Prada handbags and designer shoes (oh dear! there go my life savings!). It was our last chance to do the  child-friendly thing.


It may have been child-friendly but, by Gods, it was far from a woman of a certain age-friendly! I suffered from general exhaustion, pulled muscles, bruises and torn ligaments. On top of that some viral infection took hold of me and shook me like a pitbull terrier shaking a rag doll.

Back home, I’m licking my wounds and promising myself to go on a Mediterranean cruise next year.



Just as I was beginning to think that the world had come to a sticky end (and I didn’t mean that to involve a pot of HUNEY), this arrived with the pigeon post:


My lovely and irreplaceable husband made it for our 5th anniversary!

The world can’t so bad if there is a Monkey Lane somewhere out there! I am a happy bunny again, hopping on one leg and munching on chocolate leaves.

Big Monkey and Theodore have not been hurt in the making of this card, so I am told.


Knowing my place

RaindropMy guest blog with Lynne Shelby:

Knowing my place for Lynne Shelby

Visit Lynne Shelby’s blog


Be my rock, a trip to Cornwall


This is what I needed – Cornwall. I didn’t know that at the time of our departure. We had been offered this trip as part of some promotional programme, and I thought it was too good to be true. At first it seemed I was right – we were stuck in snail-paced traffic, desperate for a wee and envious of road-side kill (at least they didn’t care any more!).

Then there was the tortuous seminar, sweetened by an offering of high tea accompanied by a highly entertaining persona of a chap called Derek. The least we could do was to smile politely and listen (some of us did, others were still dying for a wee; too much high tea, you see.)

But it was all worth it! I’d gone there feeling low (for reasons of my own you don’t want to know), and re-evaluating my purpose in life; I came back feeling… alive in the very least. I found peace, fresh breeze, a horizon to drown myself in, and even a rocky companion that went exceptionally well with my t-shirt cacti.


We’re good friends, the rock and I (and my t-shirt cacti).

Four days later, we had to be separated and it was time to face the real world, traffic, road-side kill and existential musings all inclusive. We waved goodbye to Cornwall. For those in the know I found Cornwall strikingly similar to New Zealand and French Brittany. Such a small world we live in – I fail to understand why some of us wish to slash it into yet smaller pieces and put barbwire fences between us, but I don’t want my musings to get in the way of universal beauty, so here is more of the good thing:


In The Chair 68


Welcome, Anna Legat.

11102784_844407928976852_7866671121152746412_nHow would you describe your writing style in only three words?

Anna: Pacey, acerbic and character-driven.

If you could have a relationship with one of your fictional characters who would it be and why?

Anna: It would have to be Count Karenin! And I don’t mean the stiff, elderly character from Anna Karenina but the one from my DI Marsh mystery, Swimming with Sharks. His real name is Mikhail Lakso – Misha. He is handsome and even more exotic than the Maldivian location of the book. He has a deep Russian soul where many of his dangerous secrets are buried. It’s uncanny how some women are attracted to those dark, broody types. I am one of those women and on occasions (especially those innocuous fictional occasions from which I can walk away unscathed) I like to throw myself at the mercy of a dangerous man. Misha may…

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The Forty Minute Flood

Fighting the elements today! As we were playing Crossing the River in the hall, a real-life Niagra Waterfall poured in from blocked drains outside. I grabbed a broom and braved the waves. Mrs H soon joined in with a mop in hand. Two mums rolled up their sleeves and waded in. Head rolled in with sandbags (Headteacher that is!). Mrs W evacuated children to a higher – dry land.

We would have all perished in that flood of the century had it not been for Mrs G who offered to make us a lovely cup of tea. From then on there was no stopping up. School saved!


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