Goodness me - the sleepy town of Godalming has this week woken up and joined the modern age. Well, as much as we in the shires can, of course. We've had our first murder since ... well, probably somewhere around 1853 or some such year (which is probably nearly supper-time in this digital age). Which is horrific news for the victim and loved ones, of course, but great news for the Godalming edition of the Surrey Advertiser, who are obviously hugely excited about it. BIG front-page spread, and all that jazz. The poor victim was killed at home, but at least they've arrested somebody for it. Anyway, it's the first time the local Surrey Ad have had any decent news since the infamous Rabbit Woman of Godalming episode, Gawd bless 'er. Naturally they are making the most of it.
Not only that, but our first town lottery opens for business next week (hurrah!) and the Go Godalming Group (yes, that really is its name ...) is very proud about that too. BIG Page Two spread in the local rag! Gambling and death - it all happens here, you know. I'm tempted to buy a ticket and see if I can win, but as the top prize money is no more than £1000, I don't think it will change my life ... In the meantime, I'm putting the door on the chain and not letting anyone suspicious into the flat. So Lord H might have to eat his pizza in the shared hallway tonight ...
I've also played golf for the first time since the operation. The good thing was we saw a rather lovely green woodpecker, which was an added bonus to the morning. But, in terms of the game, I was frankly appalling and only managed to beat Marian by one point. One point! Ah, the shame ... I fear I can't blame my stitches either, as they weren't hurting one jot. I was just rubbish. Talking of stitches however, I wonder when they're supposed to melt away? - after all, it's been two weeks now and I'd have thought they'd be getting bored. The one on my right side looks like it might have pretensions to be the beginning of a rather nifty scarf too. Hmm, could be handy in winter.
Meanwhile, it's time to hang out some more bunting, as I've reached the landmark figure of 50,000 words in Hallsfoot's Battle, hurrah! It almost feels like I might even be writing a novel now I'm there, rather than just a series of disjointed meandering scribblings. I just have to work out where I go next, ho ho. Still, only another 70,000 words to go and I'll have a BIG pile of gubbins to edit. Double hurrahs, but fainter ones ...
Tonight, I've got an evening's TV viewing planned, though I suppose we ought to do some kind of housework, just to show willing. Plus I've got another pile of ironing to gaze at for a while (and probably not do). Hell, maybe it's time the crumpled look came back? Though, in my case, it's probably never really gone away.
Today's nice things:
1. The Godalming lottery
2. Golf (even if bad)
3. Seeing a green woodpecker
4. Getting to 50,000 words with Hallsfoot
5. TV.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website: a place of safety in a crazed crazed world ...
ANNE BROOKE BOOKS: Independent writer of modern fiction
Showing posts with label Godalming. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Godalming. Show all posts
Friday, October 24, 2008
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Famous Godalming & Scarlet stories
Great excitement last night! Godalming is finally famous, hurrah!! We switched on "Location, Location, Location" on TV (not something we watch often, but it just happened to be on) and there was Godalming - in the screen-flesh! Not only that, but the couple in question were looking at a house virtually opposite our road. I kept waving at the traffic coming out of the junction in the hope that one of them might be us, but it never was. Waving to oneself on TV would have been the ultimate in crazed sadness. I do understand that. The programme also gave some suitable shots of middle-class Surrey enjoying their constitutionals, so it was lovely to scream at places we knew. Gods, but we really have to get out more. Anyway, the upshot was that the couple bought the house, even though she was eight months pregnant and we kept shrieking: don't buy it - that junction is hell, your child will never be able to play in the front garden and you will be doomed forever to a back garden life only! And we should know - that main road is a deathtrap for the unwary visitor. They should have viewed it at 8.30am or between 5pm and 6pm. Both Lord H and I have learnt to press the accelerator down to the floor and cast our fates into the laps of the gods every morning. And that's only turning left. Turning right is an absolute no-hoper! Interestingly, the other couple featured in the programme bought a house in Bournemouth, Lord H's old hunting ground, so things are getting seriously spooky here in the shires ...
This morning, I have shopped in Guildford and bought a new pair of light walking shoes and a day rucksack-type bag. So I'm all prepared for our next spot of bird watching, aha! I just have to get water bottles that will fit the spaces allowed for them in the bag. And I had a counselling session with Kunu - which was quite relaxing actually. We discussed the fact that for the first time ever, I'm beginning to feel that family judgements which have been made against me in the past (and are, I know, still being made) are actually wrong. And there's no need to feel pressurised by them. Hurrah! People in my family live a different way from me, but that's no reason for me to change my views. Or life choices indeed. Quite empowering really. It might (just!) be okay to be me. As it were. And anyone who implies otherwise is likely to find themselves kicked firmly into touch. I mean, bloody hell, I've never told them what to do - so why the hell should they feel it necessary to tell me what to do? I'm done with all that stuff, really I am. I'm me and they frankly will just have to lump it.
Talking of which, Lord H and I visited Mother in hospital this afternoon. She's surprisingly well, and very perky, even though the operation was only on Tuesday. Honestly, keyhole surgery is a marvellous thing. She thinks she might even be out by the weekend, all things being equal, and assuming they don't find anything else (here's hoping not, for the old gal's sake ...). So fingers crossed, eh. We had to do a loo run together, which was something of a laugh, I have to say - I think she was glad I'd turned up, even if only for that purpose. After all, I'm good with old people - I've worked voluntarily in an old people's home and have done visiting for years. Hmm, funny how much more empowered I feel when my mother is safely lying on her sickbed or dependent on me for something. Aha! Crazed Godalming daughter sweeps through Essex, eyes flashing and zimmer frame raised in triumph ...! Kunu did say that might happen though. Wonderful counsellor, that woman.
And I managed to avoid the horrible brothers too - result!
But goodness me, the journey home was hell. The M25 had given up the ghost entirely so we had to use the A25 instead, and it took us nearly 4 hours (4 hours in a journey that only lasts 2!!!) to get home. A journey which included several heart-stopping minutes when we had literally no petrol left (so much so that even Lord H was worried ...) and no sight of a petrol station. I mean, what the hell is it with the A25??? - there's a road that's just crying out for petrol stations, and not a bloody one in sight. We had to leave it in order to find one.
So we're shattered tonight, and I'm about to go to bed. Can't be arsed with TV frankly.
Oh, and Kathy from Guildford Writers has got a wonderful story involving a very hot train journey to Zagreb in this month's (well, August) "Scarlet" magazine - so everyone must rush out and buy it. You'll find it in the deliciously named "Cliterature" section, tee hee! It's seriously hot - so well done, Kathy!
Today's nice things:
1. Seeing Godalming on TV
2. Counselling
3. Mother moments (weirdly).
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Pink Champagne and Apple Juice
Goldenford Publishers
This morning, I have shopped in Guildford and bought a new pair of light walking shoes and a day rucksack-type bag. So I'm all prepared for our next spot of bird watching, aha! I just have to get water bottles that will fit the spaces allowed for them in the bag. And I had a counselling session with Kunu - which was quite relaxing actually. We discussed the fact that for the first time ever, I'm beginning to feel that family judgements which have been made against me in the past (and are, I know, still being made) are actually wrong. And there's no need to feel pressurised by them. Hurrah! People in my family live a different way from me, but that's no reason for me to change my views. Or life choices indeed. Quite empowering really. It might (just!) be okay to be me. As it were. And anyone who implies otherwise is likely to find themselves kicked firmly into touch. I mean, bloody hell, I've never told them what to do - so why the hell should they feel it necessary to tell me what to do? I'm done with all that stuff, really I am. I'm me and they frankly will just have to lump it.
Talking of which, Lord H and I visited Mother in hospital this afternoon. She's surprisingly well, and very perky, even though the operation was only on Tuesday. Honestly, keyhole surgery is a marvellous thing. She thinks she might even be out by the weekend, all things being equal, and assuming they don't find anything else (here's hoping not, for the old gal's sake ...). So fingers crossed, eh. We had to do a loo run together, which was something of a laugh, I have to say - I think she was glad I'd turned up, even if only for that purpose. After all, I'm good with old people - I've worked voluntarily in an old people's home and have done visiting for years. Hmm, funny how much more empowered I feel when my mother is safely lying on her sickbed or dependent on me for something. Aha! Crazed Godalming daughter sweeps through Essex, eyes flashing and zimmer frame raised in triumph ...! Kunu did say that might happen though. Wonderful counsellor, that woman.
And I managed to avoid the horrible brothers too - result!
But goodness me, the journey home was hell. The M25 had given up the ghost entirely so we had to use the A25 instead, and it took us nearly 4 hours (4 hours in a journey that only lasts 2!!!) to get home. A journey which included several heart-stopping minutes when we had literally no petrol left (so much so that even Lord H was worried ...) and no sight of a petrol station. I mean, what the hell is it with the A25??? - there's a road that's just crying out for petrol stations, and not a bloody one in sight. We had to leave it in order to find one.
So we're shattered tonight, and I'm about to go to bed. Can't be arsed with TV frankly.
Oh, and Kathy from Guildford Writers has got a wonderful story involving a very hot train journey to Zagreb in this month's (well, August) "Scarlet" magazine - so everyone must rush out and buy it. You'll find it in the deliciously named "Cliterature" section, tee hee! It's seriously hot - so well done, Kathy!
Today's nice things:
1. Seeing Godalming on TV
2. Counselling
3. Mother moments (weirdly).
Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Pink Champagne and Apple Juice
Goldenford Publishers
Saturday, May 05, 2007
Working museums, rabbit women and husband hints
As threatened, I popped into Guildford today with Lord H to face the irritating Nationwide people - but even though I had to queue for twenty minutes to see a real person, I have to say that the real person I saw was utterly charming, efficient and sorted me out (or mostly) in no time. If only I'd done that rather than attempt to call yesterday, I could have saved myself all that angst. I shall remember for next time: never use the phone; just go see a person. Always the best way.
And talking of angst, this will make you laugh: Lord H and I did go to the theatre yesterday in the end as we thought we needed a night out. The play was fine, and Stephanie Beacham was utterly wonderful. As ever. But, oh misery, the rows in front of us seemed to be filled with people from St Peter's who saw us in the interval and leapt upon us with apparent cries of joy. Damn it. We were having a nice night out up to that point. Still, I can do politeness and charm when faced with the enemy (though Lord H fell silent, as is his wont), and I chit-chatted for Britain. We then managed to escape to the lower bar, but they caught us up and started attempting to have an in-depth conversation about our desertion of the church in the middle of the theatre. Not the best place, I feel, and I was quite angry (though thought it best not to show it too much) - all the more so as I knew it was making Lord H feel twitchy. However, I managed to keep it light, though when the lay reader started saying once more how difficult the new guy, Paul, is, I spoke up at last and said that actually he'd been extremely lovely, real and humane to me the one time I'd spoken to him whereas our last guy (whom the lay reader always praises - in my opinion needlessly - to the skies) was a complete loser when it came to relating to the pew-fodder, had blanked me when I'd asked for help (twice) and I'd felt so strongly about it that I hadn't bothered signing his leaving card and had been very glad when he'd finally gone. That took the wind out of her sails somewhat. And when the lay reader's husband said he hoped that we wouldn't lose touch just because we weren't coming to church any more, I replied by saying that church friends were exactly that - church friends - and in my experience rarely lasted (except on a very few honourable cases) outside the bounds of the churchyard. Which may well mean that any attempted career move of mine into the Diplomatic Service will probably not last long, but at least no-one can say they don't know where I stand.
Funny how we didn't see them after the play ended though - they were probably running to the hills by then ...
Anyway, back to today. Post the Nationwide, we stared in great joy at the Guildford Morris Men (and Women) and Jack o' Lanterns for a while - how I loved those wonderful flower hats the Morris Men were wearing to welcome in the month of May and how much Lord H and I secretly long to do the dances and wave around sticks and handerchiefs, but I fear we would never live down the shame if we ever gave into it. Though Lord H would look nice in those hats - no! Stop it, stop it now!
We have then spent a wonderful day at the Amberley Working Museum (http://www.amberleymuseum.co.uk) which was great. Lots of fascinating old shops/businesses to look at - and it even made the concrete exhibition really interesting too, which was quite a feat. We took a ride on the old train - twice - and admired all the old kitchen utensils which our mothers used to have. Lord H got quite emotional over the top loader washing machine and attached mangle, which apparently was the same version that he fell off when he was five, thus giving him a (to me) almost invisible scar on his head, though he swears it's there and it's just my eyes which are wrong. We also wandered round the old buses they have there, and he was delighted to find a poster for the Royal Blue Coach Company, which his father used to work for. Hmm, is Lord H actually 150 years old and is just kept youthful by a life of accountancy and marital ease? The family will have to be consulted, I feel ...
We were also much amused by the electricity exhibition (hands-on stuff with plugs and creating static electricity - we loved it!!) which had an old advert for electricity which said "Don't kill your wife with work - make electricity do it instead." Ah, more innocent times indeed ... And naturally, there was a display about the Great Godalming Electricity Disaster, which comes up at all these kind of things. Our home town (if you don't know this already) was the first town in the UK to install electric street lights in 1881, instead of the old gas ones, and therefore the first town to have any kind of public electricity installation at all. This would have been wonderful and would have guaranteed Godalming a place in the history books forever, but unfortunately the town council decided in 1884 that electricity would never catch on, so turned it off and reinstalled all the old gas lights again. Sigh. Oh the shame of it all ...
It's nearly as bad as the Godalming Rabbit Woman - another true story, I'm afraid: she was around in the late 1700s/early 1800s, I think from memory, and was famed across the country for giving birth to rabbits. People came from all over the place to see her with her "rabbit children" - even royalty made the trip at one point. Gullible fools! And I think she was also invited to the Palace. However, after a few years someone found her stealing young rabbits from neighbouring farmers and so the scam was uncovered. Surprise! And more sighing - no wonder the countryside has a peculiar reputation.
Anyway, enough strangeness. Tonight, it's "Doctor Who" on TV, and I think there's a film on later, so I shall slump in front of that and be couch fodder. Hurrah.
Oh, and I've also just finished Kathy Lette's "How to Kill your Husband (and other handy household hints)" - have to say I was rather disappointed with it, especially as I've heard her speak and she's an incredibly charming, bright and sassy woman. I loved her. But the book - to my mind - isn't really a novel at all; it's more of the notes for a novel, or perhaps more accurately the notes to a screenplay. It would certainly make a good film. And it has a nice, sharp "feelgood" ending - though frankly the plot falls apart here. Because surely they'd know it wasn't human blood. We do have forensics these days ... (You'll know what I mean if you've read it!). Also Hannah was very poorly drawn, though Cassie was great. But the speed of the thing was very, very distancing, and I never felt close to any of the characters. You'd need actors to bring out the heart of it. Which takes me back to my film thoughts ...
Today's nice things:
1. The nice Nationwide woman
2. Amberley Working Museum
3. TV.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.pinkchampagneandapplejuice.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
And talking of angst, this will make you laugh: Lord H and I did go to the theatre yesterday in the end as we thought we needed a night out. The play was fine, and Stephanie Beacham was utterly wonderful. As ever. But, oh misery, the rows in front of us seemed to be filled with people from St Peter's who saw us in the interval and leapt upon us with apparent cries of joy. Damn it. We were having a nice night out up to that point. Still, I can do politeness and charm when faced with the enemy (though Lord H fell silent, as is his wont), and I chit-chatted for Britain. We then managed to escape to the lower bar, but they caught us up and started attempting to have an in-depth conversation about our desertion of the church in the middle of the theatre. Not the best place, I feel, and I was quite angry (though thought it best not to show it too much) - all the more so as I knew it was making Lord H feel twitchy. However, I managed to keep it light, though when the lay reader started saying once more how difficult the new guy, Paul, is, I spoke up at last and said that actually he'd been extremely lovely, real and humane to me the one time I'd spoken to him whereas our last guy (whom the lay reader always praises - in my opinion needlessly - to the skies) was a complete loser when it came to relating to the pew-fodder, had blanked me when I'd asked for help (twice) and I'd felt so strongly about it that I hadn't bothered signing his leaving card and had been very glad when he'd finally gone. That took the wind out of her sails somewhat. And when the lay reader's husband said he hoped that we wouldn't lose touch just because we weren't coming to church any more, I replied by saying that church friends were exactly that - church friends - and in my experience rarely lasted (except on a very few honourable cases) outside the bounds of the churchyard. Which may well mean that any attempted career move of mine into the Diplomatic Service will probably not last long, but at least no-one can say they don't know where I stand.
Funny how we didn't see them after the play ended though - they were probably running to the hills by then ...
Anyway, back to today. Post the Nationwide, we stared in great joy at the Guildford Morris Men (and Women) and Jack o' Lanterns for a while - how I loved those wonderful flower hats the Morris Men were wearing to welcome in the month of May and how much Lord H and I secretly long to do the dances and wave around sticks and handerchiefs, but I fear we would never live down the shame if we ever gave into it. Though Lord H would look nice in those hats - no! Stop it, stop it now!
We have then spent a wonderful day at the Amberley Working Museum (http://www.amberleymuseum.co.uk) which was great. Lots of fascinating old shops/businesses to look at - and it even made the concrete exhibition really interesting too, which was quite a feat. We took a ride on the old train - twice - and admired all the old kitchen utensils which our mothers used to have. Lord H got quite emotional over the top loader washing machine and attached mangle, which apparently was the same version that he fell off when he was five, thus giving him a (to me) almost invisible scar on his head, though he swears it's there and it's just my eyes which are wrong. We also wandered round the old buses they have there, and he was delighted to find a poster for the Royal Blue Coach Company, which his father used to work for. Hmm, is Lord H actually 150 years old and is just kept youthful by a life of accountancy and marital ease? The family will have to be consulted, I feel ...
We were also much amused by the electricity exhibition (hands-on stuff with plugs and creating static electricity - we loved it!!) which had an old advert for electricity which said "Don't kill your wife with work - make electricity do it instead." Ah, more innocent times indeed ... And naturally, there was a display about the Great Godalming Electricity Disaster, which comes up at all these kind of things. Our home town (if you don't know this already) was the first town in the UK to install electric street lights in 1881, instead of the old gas ones, and therefore the first town to have any kind of public electricity installation at all. This would have been wonderful and would have guaranteed Godalming a place in the history books forever, but unfortunately the town council decided in 1884 that electricity would never catch on, so turned it off and reinstalled all the old gas lights again. Sigh. Oh the shame of it all ...
It's nearly as bad as the Godalming Rabbit Woman - another true story, I'm afraid: she was around in the late 1700s/early 1800s, I think from memory, and was famed across the country for giving birth to rabbits. People came from all over the place to see her with her "rabbit children" - even royalty made the trip at one point. Gullible fools! And I think she was also invited to the Palace. However, after a few years someone found her stealing young rabbits from neighbouring farmers and so the scam was uncovered. Surprise! And more sighing - no wonder the countryside has a peculiar reputation.
Anyway, enough strangeness. Tonight, it's "Doctor Who" on TV, and I think there's a film on later, so I shall slump in front of that and be couch fodder. Hurrah.
Oh, and I've also just finished Kathy Lette's "How to Kill your Husband (and other handy household hints)" - have to say I was rather disappointed with it, especially as I've heard her speak and she's an incredibly charming, bright and sassy woman. I loved her. But the book - to my mind - isn't really a novel at all; it's more of the notes for a novel, or perhaps more accurately the notes to a screenplay. It would certainly make a good film. And it has a nice, sharp "feelgood" ending - though frankly the plot falls apart here. Because surely they'd know it wasn't human blood. We do have forensics these days ... (You'll know what I mean if you've read it!). Also Hannah was very poorly drawn, though Cassie was great. But the speed of the thing was very, very distancing, and I never felt close to any of the characters. You'd need actors to bring out the heart of it. Which takes me back to my film thoughts ...
Today's nice things:
1. The nice Nationwide woman
2. Amberley Working Museum
3. TV.
Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.pinkchampagneandapplejuice.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk
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