Made a loaf, making shortbread, later - cakes haven't decided what type yet. All for an event for our Regiment, the loaf may not make it. Fresh bread rarely survives the oh that's a lovely smell moment! and the shortbread may have to be tested with a cup of tea later.
Spent the morning packing for this event - SK Training and then a party - called The Bash.
The sun is shining, the cats have come in for their dinner, both are black and white and today and their black fur is hot to the touch.
For a short week it's seemed quite long.
Waddesdon was packed yesterday with unruly kids who can't seem to keep their hands to themselves. There were only 3 security guards on walkabout and 11 Welcome Hosts, and three of them are on the front door and 2 at the back, with two people doing tea relief that left 6 of us on the floor. It was busy and really there wasn't that many people around 400 or 500 or so visitors.Thank goodness for the cameras in every room.
Oops just take the shortbread out - back in a mo.
People always seem to know their rights but never take responsibility for their actions.
I watched as toddlers ran about through expensive antiques, lovingly collected by a lonely man who wanted to show his collection to educate people.
Fat Chance!
The great unwashed as Oscar Wilde called the British public, wander through jealously, eyeing the artefacts, wondering how one man got so rich. They mostly think it was on the backs of the poor - their ancestors.
Countless times in the family room I explain how the Rothchilds got out of a ghetto and worked their way to the top, realising how hard it was to earn and keep money they inter- married cousins to keep money in the family. Unfortunately the family started to die out.
Most of the public don't look at the skill, or the artistic merits of the paintings, and we have some beauties. I think I can count the really interested on the fingers of one hand. At the moment we have an exhibition of the French commodes originally from Versaille. The skill of the artisan who made them is ignored, as is his rare portrait on the wall overlooking his work.
"Oh there's nothing in this room," I heard a lady say to her friend.
It frightens me that the Great British Public are so uneducated. How did that happen?
We used to be amongst the most inventive and clever people in the world. Explorers,
chemists, scientists, code-breakers. The best behaved, the most polite, educated, witty,
funny, our writers are still known world wide from Shakespeare to Agatha Christie.
What happened? When did we stop being GREAT Britain?
I can hear the oven pinging so it's time to take out the shortbread and start making cakes.
It'll be a few days before I blog again - so have a nice weekend everybody. I intend to!
Thursday, 31 March 2016
Tuesday, 29 March 2016
IDENTITY
I am getting a lot of twitter followers, mainly writers and re-enactors and their photos are all very glam, including a lady who said she has near death experiences as a hobby.
Strange that, I spend all my time trying to keep alive.
So anyway, I'm not very glam, I have red hair, freckles, glasses and vampire teeth (natural I'm afraid) which is cool at 16 but not as an older lady. I have even had a friends child ask me why I am so ugly. Kids dontcha just love them?
In January I had the pleasure of checking Sealed Knot ID cards and looked at young, fresh faced, dark curly haired men on the photo. Then looked up to see a grizzled greybeard with a bald head. About 75% of the photos of all the men and women were like that! The other 25% were actually young.
Although SK ID cards are not always checked, my hubby put a picture of a macaw, a bright red yellow and blue parrot as his, and kept it for two years. No hubby is NOT a parrot!
I did a brief spell in Human Resources at the BBC filing ID cards with Personnel files, and as the IDs were done every two years, as I filed them I watched young fresh faced enthusiastic staff grow older year by year. Greyer more lined, the women's facelifts periodically, it made me feel rather sad.
What brought all this on you may ask. The author's photo for my book, I answer.
I usually hide behind a persona, steam punk for this blog, taken a year ago. Before that I hid behind Corfe castle wall and peeped out wearing sunglasses. I feel best as my 17th century
farmer's wife persona and my lady persona. But as myself - well.....
Here I am, last year at Compton Verney in my Roman sandles and big hat and sunnys.
Is that me? Well it was that day.
Seventeenth Century Farmer's wife again last year in August
Strange that, I spend all my time trying to keep alive.
So anyway, I'm not very glam, I have red hair, freckles, glasses and vampire teeth (natural I'm afraid) which is cool at 16 but not as an older lady. I have even had a friends child ask me why I am so ugly. Kids dontcha just love them?
In January I had the pleasure of checking Sealed Knot ID cards and looked at young, fresh faced, dark curly haired men on the photo. Then looked up to see a grizzled greybeard with a bald head. About 75% of the photos of all the men and women were like that! The other 25% were actually young.
Although SK ID cards are not always checked, my hubby put a picture of a macaw, a bright red yellow and blue parrot as his, and kept it for two years. No hubby is NOT a parrot!
I did a brief spell in Human Resources at the BBC filing ID cards with Personnel files, and as the IDs were done every two years, as I filed them I watched young fresh faced enthusiastic staff grow older year by year. Greyer more lined, the women's facelifts periodically, it made me feel rather sad.
What brought all this on you may ask. The author's photo for my book, I answer.
I usually hide behind a persona, steam punk for this blog, taken a year ago. Before that I hid behind Corfe castle wall and peeped out wearing sunglasses. I feel best as my 17th century
farmer's wife persona and my lady persona. But as myself - well.....
Here I am, last year at Compton Verney in my Roman sandles and big hat and sunnys.
Is that me? Well it was that day.
In my wedding dress for photoshoot for my Women of the English Civil War book last August
Who am I really? I wish I knew, I can be any of my characters in my books. I can be me
the author. I can be stunning, but never beautiful, I am who I am. So I have bought a cream
lace shirt and black jacket and skirt for my photo and will have my naturally wild hair tamed by Emma my talented hairdresser. So then I will play the part of the author.
As Shakespeare said:
All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages.
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages.
So very true.
All the world's a
stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exits
and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts
being seven ages.
Read more at: http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/w/williamsha166828.html
Read more at: http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/w/williamsha166828.html
All the world's a
stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exits
and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts
being seven ages.
Read more at: http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/w/williamsha166828.html
Read more at: http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/w/williamsha166828.html
Tuesday, 22 March 2016
Curve Ball
Every now and then life throws you a curve ball. I think it's a baseball term, not sure
could be cricket.
Anyway.
Yesterday my dear hubby was called back to the Doctors to be told he had to go for tests at the hospital. Something about too few blood platelets so blood tests, and to have an endoscopy. He came back saying everything was fine, it was just routine, but I could see he was rattled.
Now I'm rattled.
We want life to improve not get worse.
I have had rheumatoid arthritus since I was 33 years old, my prognosis was I was going to be in a wheelchair within five years.
I'm not. I took up muscle building to keep myself fit and it saved me. I'm in pain every day,
the levels vary, sometimes 10 out of 10 if ten is the worst, some days like today 3 out of 10.
It never goes away, I long for one pain free moment, sometimes this does happen, but it
doesn't last for long.
I walk, I re-enact, I'm anally retentive about how my home looks, immaculate and clean is the only aim I go for. I work at Waddesdon Manor walking and standing for hours on end.
Never in a million years did I ever think my man would be ill - I'm used to being ill - he shouldn't be ill, or have to go through this.
For the past six months or more he was told he had IBS, we tried managing it with food,
the doctor gave him tablets that gave him memory loss, they were changed, but his condition didn't.
Last night we worked on the latest Hilary Long, yet another proof read until late at night
being normal, and yet not normal. Hugging each other every other moment.
Don't like curve balls, pack it in Life, we've had enough rubbish, we want good things now.
So anyway, here is the cover of the latest Hilary Long Murder Mystery, I love it. Hope you will too, I think it's the best Hilary I've written, it'll make you laugh and make you cry, and will be out later this week.
could be cricket.
Anyway.
Yesterday my dear hubby was called back to the Doctors to be told he had to go for tests at the hospital. Something about too few blood platelets so blood tests, and to have an endoscopy. He came back saying everything was fine, it was just routine, but I could see he was rattled.
Now I'm rattled.
We want life to improve not get worse.
I have had rheumatoid arthritus since I was 33 years old, my prognosis was I was going to be in a wheelchair within five years.
I'm not. I took up muscle building to keep myself fit and it saved me. I'm in pain every day,
the levels vary, sometimes 10 out of 10 if ten is the worst, some days like today 3 out of 10.
It never goes away, I long for one pain free moment, sometimes this does happen, but it
doesn't last for long.
I walk, I re-enact, I'm anally retentive about how my home looks, immaculate and clean is the only aim I go for. I work at Waddesdon Manor walking and standing for hours on end.
Never in a million years did I ever think my man would be ill - I'm used to being ill - he shouldn't be ill, or have to go through this.
For the past six months or more he was told he had IBS, we tried managing it with food,
the doctor gave him tablets that gave him memory loss, they were changed, but his condition didn't.
Last night we worked on the latest Hilary Long, yet another proof read until late at night
being normal, and yet not normal. Hugging each other every other moment.
Don't like curve balls, pack it in Life, we've had enough rubbish, we want good things now.
So anyway, here is the cover of the latest Hilary Long Murder Mystery, I love it. Hope you will too, I think it's the best Hilary I've written, it'll make you laugh and make you cry, and will be out later this week.
Tuesday, 15 March 2016
A writer's life
During the first three months of this year, I have written every day. I finished my latest Hilary Long murder mystery, started work on a tweenagers book and have started writing a sort of proverb dictionary, not to mention promoting and speaking about my Women of the English Civil War History book. I still have the coffee table book in production and will be starting work on that quite soon.
I write everyday after cleaning my house we get up at six so everything's done by 9.30 - 10.am So then I make phone calls and usually start to write,cup of coffee in hand, at 10.30 - 11.00 and stop at 1 for lunch.
I speak to my hubby every day for half an hour, then watch Neighbours as it's completely brain off and fun.
At 2.15 this time cup of tea in hand I write for the whole afternoon until 5 when I stop to watch 5 News, yes I know it's news lite - but that's about all I am interested in.
Then I cook, spaghetti bolognese, chicken or pork stir fry, jacket potatoes with pork chops mushrooms and broccolli. Food is still a big issue for me, after becoming allergic to so many things last year, everything I try that's new has an element of danger!
But when I was first allergic I was only eating porridge and jacket potatoes so I've come a long way since then.
It's so cold today that I've had the woodburner on since lunchtime, and I'm looking forward to going to the coffee morning at Waddesdon tomorrow that will tell us what we will be doing for the season. I only go one day a week, I find the general public are getting ruder and more difficult to deal with, but it gives me great ideas for my books. I'm not the only one
a lot of my friends who work in the heritage industry are finding the same.
Soon everything will be broken and ruined by visitors who can't resist touching the artefacts
and there will be nothing left for future generations to see. Sad and shortsighted.
Well it's Shepherds Pie tonight so I'd better get on. Looking forward to a break by the sea
soon, yes it'll be cold, but I don't care - I love that wobbly green sea on the Cornish coast.
A bit of R&R for my hubby's birthday, and a bit of brain off time for me.
I write everyday after cleaning my house we get up at six so everything's done by 9.30 - 10.am So then I make phone calls and usually start to write,cup of coffee in hand, at 10.30 - 11.00 and stop at 1 for lunch.
I speak to my hubby every day for half an hour, then watch Neighbours as it's completely brain off and fun.
At 2.15 this time cup of tea in hand I write for the whole afternoon until 5 when I stop to watch 5 News, yes I know it's news lite - but that's about all I am interested in.
Then I cook, spaghetti bolognese, chicken or pork stir fry, jacket potatoes with pork chops mushrooms and broccolli. Food is still a big issue for me, after becoming allergic to so many things last year, everything I try that's new has an element of danger!
But when I was first allergic I was only eating porridge and jacket potatoes so I've come a long way since then.
It's so cold today that I've had the woodburner on since lunchtime, and I'm looking forward to going to the coffee morning at Waddesdon tomorrow that will tell us what we will be doing for the season. I only go one day a week, I find the general public are getting ruder and more difficult to deal with, but it gives me great ideas for my books. I'm not the only one
a lot of my friends who work in the heritage industry are finding the same.
Soon everything will be broken and ruined by visitors who can't resist touching the artefacts
and there will be nothing left for future generations to see. Sad and shortsighted.
Well it's Shepherds Pie tonight so I'd better get on. Looking forward to a break by the sea
soon, yes it'll be cold, but I don't care - I love that wobbly green sea on the Cornish coast.
A bit of R&R for my hubby's birthday, and a bit of brain off time for me.
Friday, 11 March 2016
MURDER!
Do murderers get away with it? If they live they do. Life may be uncomfortable in prison but they are still alive. They have a chance of getting out.
What about their victims? Do they have a chance of getting out of the grave? NO.
What about their families do they ever recover? NO.
I was bought up in Shoreditch when the Kays ruled the East End, I remember sitting on the floor of my friend's flat playing, I was only a little girl, when Reggie came in to pick up his girlfriend. I looked up and a chill ran through me. He tried to be affable, but the overwhelming feeling was of pure evil. She committed suicide. The Krays committed murder. Their "day job".
So why am I writing this now?
My friend has just been to a bookshop in Bicester where she was entertained by a double murderer who has now turned author, he says he's turned his life around.
See:-
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1173599/The-Guardians-Prison-Diarist-The-murderer-wrote-lies-got-paid-it.html
and this article:
“Erwin James” is a name familiar to many Guardian readers, having written for the paper since 2000. His is the nom de plume of the murderer James Monahan.
The Daily Mail reported in 2009, that The Guardian had allowed Monahan to lie about details, through his “Erwin James” pseudonym. We learn:
So, do we forgive and forget a double murder? Do we forgive countless lies enough to allow this demon to give talks about his prison life and how bad it was? Do we pay for the priviledge of listening to this creature?
In my Hilary Long there is only is only one murderer who survives the others get their come-uppance. But my books are fiction, Bicester bookshop is paying a murderer to talk about FACT.
Should we punish these people forever? No.
Should we pay them to entertain us with their tales of woe? No.
Everyone has personal choice. There is always an alternative. There is always a path
away from evil. Anyone can always choose to do the right thing. Anyone.
Remember, evil always wears a smiling face.
What about their victims? Do they have a chance of getting out of the grave? NO.
What about their families do they ever recover? NO.
I was bought up in Shoreditch when the Kays ruled the East End, I remember sitting on the floor of my friend's flat playing, I was only a little girl, when Reggie came in to pick up his girlfriend. I looked up and a chill ran through me. He tried to be affable, but the overwhelming feeling was of pure evil. She committed suicide. The Krays committed murder. Their "day job".
So why am I writing this now?
My friend has just been to a bookshop in Bicester where she was entertained by a double murderer who has now turned author, he says he's turned his life around.
See:-
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1173599/The-Guardians-Prison-Diarist-The-murderer-wrote-lies-got-paid-it.html
and this article:
“Erwin James” is a name familiar to many Guardian readers, having written for the paper since 2000. His is the nom de plume of the murderer James Monahan.
The Daily Mail reported in 2009, that The Guardian had allowed Monahan to lie about details, through his “Erwin James” pseudonym. We learn:
In 1985 he was sentenced to life with a minimum of 14 years for the brutal murders of theatrical agent Greville Hallam and 29-year-old solicitor Angus Cochrane, both committed three years earlier.
Monahan had been 28 and living as a squatter when, with accomplice William Ross, 25, whom the court would later hear he ‘dominated’, he murdered Greville Hallam. The 48-year-old’s body was found, bound and naked, in the bedroom of his Hampstead maisonette. A television, stereo and video equipment had been stolen. […] Mr Hallam met Monahan at the Golden Lion pub in Soho, where the latter was selling videos, and invited him and Ross back to his home. Monahan, 6ft 2in and powerfully built, strangled the older man with an arm lock before plundering his home.
Three months later, Angus Cochrane, a solicitor for the Coal Board based in Doncaster and in London for a conference, was set upon while walking down The Mall. He was dragged from the pavement into the rose gardens of St James’s Park. He was punched, kicked and beaten with a brick, before being left for dead while his killers made off with what little money he had in his wallet. He died of his head injuries four days later. His parents were faced with the agonising decision of switching off the life-support machine.
So, do we forgive and forget a double murder? Do we forgive countless lies enough to allow this demon to give talks about his prison life and how bad it was? Do we pay for the priviledge of listening to this creature?
In my Hilary Long there is only is only one murderer who survives the others get their come-uppance. But my books are fiction, Bicester bookshop is paying a murderer to talk about FACT.
Should we punish these people forever? No.
Should we pay them to entertain us with their tales of woe? No.
Everyone has personal choice. There is always an alternative. There is always a path
away from evil. Anyone can always choose to do the right thing. Anyone.
Remember, evil always wears a smiling face.
Wednesday, 9 March 2016
Book Launch
Wow! It's all moving fast now.
My books are now on sale in bookshops, on Amazon, and the The Original re-enactor's Market!
The latest Hilary Long Mystery will be out when the cover is finished, and I've got to say it's one of the best that Andy's done for me, it's exactly how I envisaged it.
Then all the Hilarys will come out in paperback form - watch out Agatha Raisin - Hilary Long's in town - darker, sexier, funnier! I
Strangely I had never read MC Beaton's Agatha Raisin books. I'd read Hamish McBeth and loved the TV series, and I've read Poirot and Agatha Christie's Miss Marples. I've recently read Hiss and Hers - an Agatha Raisin book, and I'm really glad to say it is completely different from my Hilary Long Mysteries.
Although both books point out that the Cotswolds are not a place to retire to for a quiet life!
Another batch of The Women of the Civil War have just arrived ready for despatch.
I've done my shoulder in - driving to and fro Oxford in the rush hour yesterday didn't help, it's my changing gear arm. So I can't even lift them out of the hall.
So as tonight is going to be another big night - we're having a Sealed Knot recruiting drive in an Oxford pub - I am supposedly "resting."
Find it incredibly hard to do, my mind is alive with new stories and book ideas, and although my shoulder hurts, I just think, "I'll just do this - or that..." and before you know it I'm working again.
Saw my friend Della yesterday in hospital, she's a feisty bear, she has such a loving and
supportive family, and since serious complaints were made about her treatment. She now
has a different medical team and is making progress. She was even walking yesterday!
So busy busy busy - as Luke (Della's son) said to me yesterday - Life is too short - got to leave the past behind and move on.
So onwards and upwards and as to tonight - once more into the breeches dear friends!
xx
My books are now on sale in bookshops, on Amazon, and the The Original re-enactor's Market!
The latest Hilary Long Mystery will be out when the cover is finished, and I've got to say it's one of the best that Andy's done for me, it's exactly how I envisaged it.
Then all the Hilarys will come out in paperback form - watch out Agatha Raisin - Hilary Long's in town - darker, sexier, funnier! I
Strangely I had never read MC Beaton's Agatha Raisin books. I'd read Hamish McBeth and loved the TV series, and I've read Poirot and Agatha Christie's Miss Marples. I've recently read Hiss and Hers - an Agatha Raisin book, and I'm really glad to say it is completely different from my Hilary Long Mysteries.
Although both books point out that the Cotswolds are not a place to retire to for a quiet life!
Another batch of The Women of the Civil War have just arrived ready for despatch.
I've done my shoulder in - driving to and fro Oxford in the rush hour yesterday didn't help, it's my changing gear arm. So I can't even lift them out of the hall.
So as tonight is going to be another big night - we're having a Sealed Knot recruiting drive in an Oxford pub - I am supposedly "resting."
Find it incredibly hard to do, my mind is alive with new stories and book ideas, and although my shoulder hurts, I just think, "I'll just do this - or that..." and before you know it I'm working again.
Saw my friend Della yesterday in hospital, she's a feisty bear, she has such a loving and
supportive family, and since serious complaints were made about her treatment. She now
has a different medical team and is making progress. She was even walking yesterday!
So busy busy busy - as Luke (Della's son) said to me yesterday - Life is too short - got to leave the past behind and move on.
So onwards and upwards and as to tonight - once more into the breeches dear friends!
xx
Monday, 7 March 2016
Some nice photos to cheer up a dull winter's day.
80 years of the Spitfire but this is a Hurricane - ooops!
Purple gladioli
Devon
Overbeck
Blue moon
Jackdaw
Professor Elemental steampunk night
Our painted rose
taken from the Minack Porthcurno beach
So tired......so I'm gonna rant!
So tired that today I accidentally erased the nice photos I put up the other day when blogging.
Went to Hednas night club last Saturday night, and got a bit drunk! Couldn't see in the dark and trod on peoples' toes! Conga'd till 1 am. Last Hednas till Christmas on the 10th December, the day after my birthday. Briliant to get into the 1940s kit, even my victory rolls stayed in!
Got up at 10 on Sunday with a slight headache and had to go and get some milk in Sainsburys.
Could hardly get out of the village so many people were visiting their mums with chocs, flowers and wine, the pub car parks were full with appreciative children and their mums.
I have got to say my son didn't send me anything as usual. But hey, he's the one missing out.
To treat myself for being a great mum and saving his life twice - I bought myself a couple of thermal tops in the Sainsburys sale half price. A huge bunch of flowers and a cactus that looks like a heart.
We had a lovely roast dinner in front of a roaring fire, and watched old films on NOWTV. and cuddled down out of the cold for the night.
I wish I could stop thinking about the little bastard. He calls me all sorts of names and blames me for all his failures. Naturally, I was the one forcing him to bunk off Uni and
smoke marijuana till he couldn't stand up.
He fails to mention that it was me who dragged his drugged up arse back home, cleaned him up, and my darling hubby got one of his friends to get him into the Norwich School of
Art to re-start his career.
Apparently I was the one who made him "poor" despite the 17K I gave him to help him out over the past 10 years.
I also paid for his girlfriend and her mum to come and go from Japan. Apparently
I was horrible to her, by trying to bring her into the family by talking to her and taking them both out to dinner whenever they visited.
Oh yeah, and buying them shoes when they were walking round in a freezing winter in canvas worn out plimsolls, guess what ? I took them to Shoezone, they were having none of that, we ended up in Shue with two pairs of expensive designer boots.
She was sullen and prone to outbursts if she didn't get what she wanted, and had tantrums like a 3 year old child. She cried like a shot puppy if you said anything to her.
Never once did I get more than 3 words at a time from her, and neither of them EVER said
thanks for letting them live rent free with food and entertainment all in with us - or letting them have our Cornish cottage for their holidays - also free.
I wasn't invited to their wedding, in fact they changed the date in case I turned up.
Someone had told them I wanted to stop it and being easily led, they believed it.
NO I just wanted to be there and support my only son on one of the the most important days of his life.
I have TRIED everything with that boy but since the drugs - THANK YOU KEELE UNI you really looked after my son, NOT. He's not right, paranoid and miserable. I see his facebook page and he looks like he's forgotten how to smile.
Everyone who knows him says to me he's always been easily led and has an addictive personality. That much I know. He's got it into his head that I am the cause of all his problems and that I need treatment because I must be mentally ill. Reverse that and you might be somewhere near the truth.
Suppose I might be, to waste so much love, time and money on one spiteful nasty character who has turned out like my ex, his bi-polar father. Perhaps he's inherited that. He does look more like him than me.
Trying to talk to him now is like poking a wasps nest - the only thing that comes out of him stings and is venomous.
PHEW!! Thank you sincerely BBC for the Creative Writing course. They encouraged all of us to write without censorship. Not to think: "I can't write that, what if it upsets somebody?
What if my mum reads it?"
So there you have it, the yearly Mothers Day rant. I thank yew, I thank yew. Applause.
Went to Hednas night club last Saturday night, and got a bit drunk! Couldn't see in the dark and trod on peoples' toes! Conga'd till 1 am. Last Hednas till Christmas on the 10th December, the day after my birthday. Briliant to get into the 1940s kit, even my victory rolls stayed in!
Got up at 10 on Sunday with a slight headache and had to go and get some milk in Sainsburys.
Could hardly get out of the village so many people were visiting their mums with chocs, flowers and wine, the pub car parks were full with appreciative children and their mums.
I have got to say my son didn't send me anything as usual. But hey, he's the one missing out.
To treat myself for being a great mum and saving his life twice - I bought myself a couple of thermal tops in the Sainsburys sale half price. A huge bunch of flowers and a cactus that looks like a heart.
We had a lovely roast dinner in front of a roaring fire, and watched old films on NOWTV. and cuddled down out of the cold for the night.
I wish I could stop thinking about the little bastard. He calls me all sorts of names and blames me for all his failures. Naturally, I was the one forcing him to bunk off Uni and
smoke marijuana till he couldn't stand up.
He fails to mention that it was me who dragged his drugged up arse back home, cleaned him up, and my darling hubby got one of his friends to get him into the Norwich School of
Art to re-start his career.
Apparently I was the one who made him "poor" despite the 17K I gave him to help him out over the past 10 years.
I also paid for his girlfriend and her mum to come and go from Japan. Apparently
I was horrible to her, by trying to bring her into the family by talking to her and taking them both out to dinner whenever they visited.
Oh yeah, and buying them shoes when they were walking round in a freezing winter in canvas worn out plimsolls, guess what ? I took them to Shoezone, they were having none of that, we ended up in Shue with two pairs of expensive designer boots.
She was sullen and prone to outbursts if she didn't get what she wanted, and had tantrums like a 3 year old child. She cried like a shot puppy if you said anything to her.
Never once did I get more than 3 words at a time from her, and neither of them EVER said
thanks for letting them live rent free with food and entertainment all in with us - or letting them have our Cornish cottage for their holidays - also free.
I wasn't invited to their wedding, in fact they changed the date in case I turned up.
Someone had told them I wanted to stop it and being easily led, they believed it.
NO I just wanted to be there and support my only son on one of the the most important days of his life.
I have TRIED everything with that boy but since the drugs - THANK YOU KEELE UNI you really looked after my son, NOT. He's not right, paranoid and miserable. I see his facebook page and he looks like he's forgotten how to smile.
Everyone who knows him says to me he's always been easily led and has an addictive personality. That much I know. He's got it into his head that I am the cause of all his problems and that I need treatment because I must be mentally ill. Reverse that and you might be somewhere near the truth.
Suppose I might be, to waste so much love, time and money on one spiteful nasty character who has turned out like my ex, his bi-polar father. Perhaps he's inherited that. He does look more like him than me.
Trying to talk to him now is like poking a wasps nest - the only thing that comes out of him stings and is venomous.
PHEW!! Thank you sincerely BBC for the Creative Writing course. They encouraged all of us to write without censorship. Not to think: "I can't write that, what if it upsets somebody?
What if my mum reads it?"
So there you have it, the yearly Mothers Day rant. I thank yew, I thank yew. Applause.
Wednesday, 2 March 2016
Finito!!
It's finished! It's really really finished!!
My last part of the two part Hilary Long mystery. It took a while. It was like work, you wouldn't believe I was doing this for fun!
So now I have a new book to start. I'm back at Waddesdon next week, we have our 1940s nightclub on Saturday, The original Traders Market,the following week. Meeting new SK recruits in Oxford one evening, visits from friends at Easter then the SK season starts, life rolls on fast and furious.
I bought myself a huge bunch of flowers for mother's day, I deserve them, I was a brilliant mum! They are my favourite colours, reds, oranges, yellows, roses, zinnias, lilies, a ray of sunshine on a gale-force and sleeting day.
I'm going to start on some new clothes for knotting, haven't had a new dress for ages!
I've been given some real 1940s dress patterns so I can't wait to have ago at them.
As you can see I'm trying really hard to be upbeat.
Bad things will always happen, it's just for the moment I'm ignoring them.
My last part of the two part Hilary Long mystery. It took a while. It was like work, you wouldn't believe I was doing this for fun!
So now I have a new book to start. I'm back at Waddesdon next week, we have our 1940s nightclub on Saturday, The original Traders Market,the following week. Meeting new SK recruits in Oxford one evening, visits from friends at Easter then the SK season starts, life rolls on fast and furious.
I bought myself a huge bunch of flowers for mother's day, I deserve them, I was a brilliant mum! They are my favourite colours, reds, oranges, yellows, roses, zinnias, lilies, a ray of sunshine on a gale-force and sleeting day.
I'm going to start on some new clothes for knotting, haven't had a new dress for ages!
I've been given some real 1940s dress patterns so I can't wait to have ago at them.
As you can see I'm trying really hard to be upbeat.
Bad things will always happen, it's just for the moment I'm ignoring them.
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