Saturday, 30 November 2013

Funny Family Life...

Sitting with my husband eating dinner tonight and I got totally fed up with the constant farting, licking and grunting, so I let the dog out!

Thursday, 28 November 2013

My Idiot Moment...

My idiot moment for today (probably one of many). Talking to another mum about the pressures of children etc. She said, 'Of course I've also got ME'. I thought she said 'Emmie' and asked if she was talking about her daughter. 'No, I have M. E.' This could have been understandable only I know only to well what her daughter's called, we talk about her every day!

Tuesday, 26 November 2013

Easy Peasy Chocolate Pudding

Sunday afternoon and I thought I'd have a go at 'easy peasy chocolate pudding', a recipe which claims you will be rewarded with a gooey chocolate mound oozing with melting chocolate in just 6 minutes.

Total disaster.

Husband wafted old postcard under my nose quizzing me as to what ancient part of the Cornish coastline it depicted. My mind whirred from sifting flour to sifting through mental images of Cornwall.
My little girl interrupted at the point I over microwaved the rock solid butter to show me her impression of 'toddling' like her little brother. She executed a funny wiggling backward walk then asked where her gloves were. My mind flitted to all the places her gloves might be whilst simultaneously working through Cornwall images and shoving ingredients into an undersized bowl, the butter was incinerated.
I then discovered my little boy had walked off with the chocolate.
Throwing caution to the wind I shoved the bowl in the microwave and hoped for the best.
Needless to say I did not succeed. The pudding was a shambles, the chocolate was found smeared round the bath, the postcard was of St.Agnes beach and I only found one glove.

Thursday, 21 November 2013

Struggling Writer - The Seed of Doubt has Started to Sprout

The Metamorphosis of Elissa Brown is my first and, at present, only completed novel. The idea for it popped into my head when I was a teenager. Many years later, I had a baby sleeping and a husband working nights and found myself wanting to write. The discipline to keep going when my eye lids drooped and baby cried, failed and rekindled relentlessly until I finally managed to finish it and publish on Amazon.

Since then I have totally ignored it and feel dreadful.

Now I cannot look at it. I love this book but it feels like it has been buried in Pet Cemetry and returned a disfigured version of its former self. It lurks in the drawer whispering about neglect and betrayal.

Steeped in motherhood I am working on a children's book about a Cornish mermaid. Hopefully it will sit on the shelf next to my novel...hopefully.

Wednesday, 20 November 2013

Struggling Domestic Goddess - Relaxing Bath

Finally, a window of time to spoil myself with a candlelit bath with all the trimmings. Bath filled and bubbling brilliantly, glass of wine on the side and all my accoutrements at the ready. Wrapped in just a towel I light a match, lean forward and find that my children have snapped off every wick on every frigging candle.

Tuesday, 19 November 2013

Struggling Artist - Curiosity Cat

Couldn't resist another quick post before picking up little one from school. It feels like I've spent the last year trying to find my artistic style by running away from my artistic style. I have gone through the full circle of trying out different techniques, styles and media only to realise...I liked the way I was before!

When time is precious it's so frustrating to feel it's been wasted. However, whilst searching a flash drive I stumbled across an old illustration and now feel a little more hopeful.

Struggling Domestic Goddess - The Poo Saga

Lovely start to the day. Dog developed a severe bout of the squits over night and practically covered the garden with his own shade of mustard.

After half an hour of clearing this up I then had to do the walk of shame to the poo bin down the road. I say the walk of shame not because I think it's wrong to put my dog poo in the bin for the park. I doubt there is a radius within which the poo must be done to allow it access to the bin. The shame comes from the overly conspicuous Tesco carrier bag that I have to heave along with me.

Of course, when one wants to be discreet, the world and his wife are out. I had to stop at various points on my journey to exchange pleasantries about the weather etc whilst being painfully aware of my smelly cargo.

Others had tiny nappy sacks obviously containing poo from their own pooches. They can even gesticulate without worry of spillage and apparently enjoy odourless poop scooping whilst I stand in their midst with my sackful of effluence that honks to high heaven.

Why can I never be graceful and effortless in my endeavours?