New home, but I’m still standing

House moved! From the outside – picture perfect. Just take a look at it. Okay, not all of it belongs to us, but we belong to all of it.


The views are to die for, too. Daughter’s bedroom overlooks charming little paddocks housing two frisky ponies (believe me – they are frisky and shameless!), two sheep (both staring into space with a spark of deep thought in their sheepish eyes) and other creatures large and small.


Our bedroom overlooks a tree in our small garden where blue tits, robins and one extremely fat pigeon compete for seeds. Law of the jungle out there, but the blue tits rule supreme, maybe because the obese pigeon finds it hard to take off so has to content with the crumbs that fall from the bird feeder above.

P1060100The house has plenty of character – I would even go as far as saying that it isn’t only character it has – it’s ATTITUDE. Yes, the house has a serious attitude problem. To start with, it has a small population of woodlice who climb in through the vines outside and into our bathroom, wherefrom they spread like wild fire until they are captured. Once captured they instantly fall on their back, belly up, and play dead (or perhaps they are really dead). They get hoovered. Probably there is a whole woodlice colony inside our hoover.

We’ve also experienced out first flood, courtesy of Daughter who left the weird tap in her bathroom dripping until it conquered the sink, water overcoming it, spilling to the floor and travelling to the landing. From there it was re-directed to the kitchen below and trickled down the wall merrily. Awaken by the watery humming, which gave my bladder an illusion of being full, I discovered the Great Flood and raised alarm. So that’s just for starters.

There is hope however. If I remember correctly, after the Great Flood came peace and prosperity for Man. Okay, I can’t remember that far back but I read it somewhere.

What a treat!

A heart-melting review of The Quite Contrary Colin Pluck by a 10-year-old girl, complete with a portrait of the main character! How good is that?

The Quite Contrary Colin Pluck

A word of introduction

I have been writing since I could put a pen to paper and achieve a sentence: poetry in moments of madness, fiction born of reality, articles and commentaries on current events, diaries, tales for those who can’t yet tell the time, jokes and cartoons.

Alas, all my outpourings would meet a sad end somewhere at the back of the wardrobe, in a shoebox under the bed, in a ‘Scribblings‘ folder of an extinguished laptop, on a blog tempestuously deleted or in a ‘Return to Sender‘ tray of a literary agent.

As there is no writer without a reader, I have now decided to pull my writings out of oblivion, dust them off and throw them to the wolves of public scrutiny. Someone may read them, someone else may even enjoy them.

Whatever the disappointments or successes of this undertaking, I shall not stop writing. I can’t.

It goes back to my earliest conscious thought. When I was about seven-eight years old I discovered all I wanted to be was a writer. I wrote my first book when I was 10. It was about a bunch of eccentrics landing on a planet inhabited by dinosaurs. I illustrated it referring to encyclopaedia to ensure accuracy and maintain professional credibility. The only person who read it was my brother. He found it in the bottom drawer of my desk and thought I had copied it from a “proper” book. It was the best review I have ever had!

Since then, I have travelled the world and lived in many exotic places (though without a trace of dinosaurs). I have worn many different hats and tried my best to become a respectable member of society, turning my hand to being a lawyer, a teacher and a mother with only a modicum of success in each of those departments.

The truth of the matter is that I am still a child whose heart is set on being a writer. I don’t like wearing hats. My fingers are stained with ink.