Pensions, Pilates, Poems and Panics

Ye gods, but it’s chilly today. It’s the third time this week I’ve opted for a jumper rather than a jacket in the office. Ah, we’re all downgrading now, you know. Soon I shall be rolling in wearing my pink fluffy dressing gown and bedsocks. That’ll get rid of the campus population for sure.

Anyway, the first night of Ruth being the backstage queen at “The Bohemian Girl” apparently went well. In spite of the fact that during the aria, “I dreamt I lived in marble halls”, some woman walked off the street and attempted to go on stage in search of a shower. Ruth had to forcibly stop her before the scene was ruined – lordy, but they’re a rum lot in Haslemere, you know.

One of the singers was also apparently chatting about the gun props and let slip that she was a dab hand with pistols, having had three ex-husbands. Really, m’dears, sometimes it’s better not to ask too much …

This morning, we have had a pensions talk – is there no end to the excitement? The new system will apparently mean we get more take-home pay and it doesn’t affect our pensions so hey I’ve no problem with it. And Lord H is happy too, so that’s good. One of the best moves I’ve made really – marrying my accountant!

This lunchtime, I am chilling out for an hour in the Pilates class, but I will be way behind, what with other meetings crowding it out and being away over the last couple of weeks. I’m not sure I can remember if I even have any core muscles, never mind where they are. Ho hum. Tonight, I am attempting again to tackle more of the edit for The Gifting and – joy! – there’s “Torchwood”.

And I’ve been thinking about soap – I have a lot of different soaps in the flat and can never find the perfect one. Sigh:

A longing for soap

The older I get
the more I long
for the perfect soap;

something soft
that smells of lemon
or perhaps vanilla,

a bar which lathers up
to a glamorous froth
at the touch

of a finger. Or maybe two.
I yearn for flowers,
spices, ravishment;

a shedding of the skin
to discover perhaps
the woman within.


Oh and it’s exactly one week to the launch of Thorn in the Flesh. Am I nervous? Petrified, m’dears, petrified. What if nobody turns up? What if too many people turn up and the Museum representative won’t let them in? What if I panic during the reading and sound like a squirrel? What if I’m sick? I swear I have the confidence of a gnat. A gnat that’s had a particularly disheartening day. Oh Lordy, time for a calming pill or two, I feel. And there’s still a week to go!...

Today’s nice things:

1. Opera amusements
2. Pilates
3. Torchwood.

Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Goldenford Publishers

Stories and pork pie mysteries

Was delighted to see last night that my piece of flash fiction, “A vegetable year”, is now on the Storytellers’ Café site – hope you enjoy the read. I was obviously in feminist mood … The site itself is great and well worth a browse – some marvellous stories and excerpts on there from some top-notch writers. I particularly loved the FAQs section. Now if only someone would tell us the answers, eh.

This morning, I am still neck-deep in marketing projects, some of which involve copy typing (hurrah!) which I love. It’s the ideal opportunity to look busy whilst not having to think. My perfect job indeed. Now if only I can get through the whole day like that.

This lunchtime, I’ve had a wonderfully relaxing time in my Pilates class – bliss! – and then tonight it’s Scottish country dancing. Which will sadly be the last time I can go for about three weeks, what with holiday, two launch parties (one being mine) and half-term coming up. Goodness me, by the time I come back I shall have forgotten everything entirely. Hmm, that’ll please our tutor for sure.

And later on it’s the joys of “Torchwood”. I am so excited I can hardly wait! Sadly … Lord H is excited too, as the focus is on Tosh (ah, in so many ways …) tonight and he’s rather fond of her.

Ooh and, talking of Lord H, I am now officially Shocked of Godalming: having been married for 15 years (15 years, mind you!!), the man of my dreams has finally summoned up enough courage to tell me he doesn’t like pork pies. This in spite of the fact that I have been regularly getting them for him as a treat for all this time!!! Men!! What is it about them?! Why won’t they communicate? Am I such an ogre? No, don’t answer that … But I am definitely going to upload all these questions onto my own personal website FAQs section, just as soon as I can work out how to put the darn thing up. Sigh!

Today’s nice things:

1. The Storytellers’ Cafe
2. Dancing
3. Torchwood.

Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Goldenford Publishers

Reviews and Interviews

First, I must say thank you to Jane, Ang & Jane’s mother for a wonderful evening out last night. I think we put Godalming to rights and we talked a great deal about vomit. My ideal evening really. Jane’s mother also managed to dissuade me from breaking into the (naturally shut – but it was evening so I forgive them, this time …) briefcase shop which is opposite the restaurant. Probably a wise move. Even I can see it might have been tricky explaining it to the police …

Had a very nice review of A Dangerous Man today on the Obsidian review site. Many thanks, Val - and I’m glad you liked the book.

And the lovely Lisa Glass, author of the marvellous Prince Rupert’s Teardrop, has interviewed me today for the Vulpes Libris site and you can find the interview here under today’s date. I nearly sound normal too – which is an achievement! Many thanks, Lisa – I thoroughly enjoyed the experience.

Back at the coal face, Carol is back and unable to get into her computer. I fear it is the amount of comings and goings to do with keyboard changes, but we hope she’ll be able to use the machine soon. I have confessed however, and she is still smiling at me. Phew! And it’s the boss’s birthday, so we are celebrating with cakes and strawberries. As you do.

This lunchtime, I have the first of my beginners’ Pilates classes – so I’m hoping it will be less scary than the super-scary open class. I’m going to quiver at the back and look sad. Well, it’s a life plan. UPDATE: The beginners’ class is fab – and the woman who takes it is really, really lovely. I felt soooo incredibly chilled and relaxed when we finished. Not a feeling I have very often, I can tell you. More please!

And I’m busy hacking my way through the system to try to produce enough leaflets for students to have – we’re running rather low, and I’m making a bid to have access to my own template, rather than sending stuff off to other people all the time. Heck, I am becoming the Marketing Queen after all. Sigh!

Tonight, I’m off to Scottish Country Dancing, and then I must dash back to catch “Torchwood”. I really need to know what my next online mission will be soon, so I can practise holding the torch. Lord, but I am so sad.

Today’s nice things:

1. The Obsidian review
2. The Vulpes Libris interview
3. Pilates.

Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Goldenford Publishers

Meetings, dance and ooh more totty

Back to the grindstone today. That’s the trouble with having a day off in the middle of my working week – it makes going back deeply confusing. And it’s as if I’ve never been away – we’re still in meeting muddle and I am juggling minutes, bids and yet more meetings with increasingly desperate intensity. I really have no idea what’s supposed to be happening and I’m not convinced anyone else does either. Sigh. Even those who might – if I shine a light in their eyes – have some inkling of what’s going on have fled to the hills. Ah well. We struggle on.

This lunchtime I am also confused: am I supposed to be going to scary Pilates, or am I having lunch with Julia? I really don’t know. I’d prefer lunch with Julia by far, to be honest, but I can’t get hold of her. If she too has vanished, I’m not sure I have the emotional energy for Pilates. I might just wimp out anyway and wait for the Beginners’ class to start next week. I’m not sure I can face the humiliation otherwise. UPDATE: In the end, I went for a walk round the campus, and popped into the photographic exhibition on the way, which was very relaxing. Honestly, I’d forgotten how much I love just walking round the place by myself with no need to talk to anyone, as it’s ages since I had the chance. It’s bliss. I swear I can feel myself unfolding by the second. Also lovely to see the daffodil shoots already out and to sit by the lake and stare at the birds for a while.

This afternoon, I have yet another meeting – oh joy! This time, it’s the Nursery Group, so at least they’re less spaced-out, and I have some chance of knowing what they’re talking about. I swear I am slowly drowning in unwritten minutes and eventually they will destroy me entirely. Still, I did know January was going to be touch, work-wise – I just hadn’t realised quite how tough.

Tonight, it’s Scottish Country Dancing – hurrah! – and then – double hurrahs! – the joys of “Torchwood” and yet more hot totty. Thank goodness for something to look forward to, eh.

Today’s nice things:

1. The lunchtime walk
2. Dance
3. Torchwood.

Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Goldenford Publishers

Back to the dance and an alien keyboard

Gosh, some nice news to start the day – the lovely Verda – my editor for Maloney’s Law at PD Publishing – has now completed her edit and emailed me with changes and a covering note to say what a wonderful story it is and how much she loved it. Gosh, thanks, Verda! I can honestly say that’s the first time that’s happened with a commercial publisher – it’s so nice to be treated as if I’m a real person rather than a number in a very long list. My experience with PD is certainly proving very pleasant indeed. They make me feel like a worthwhile person – shock, horror!

This morning, I have deeply confused the day by opening the bathroom cabinet and realising that in the general rush and frantic busyness of last night (um, I didn’t get to bed till nearly midnight, in spite of resolutions to the contrary …), I had failed to put my make-up back in its customary place. Everything was totally mixed up and my usual sadly anal routine shot to pieces! I had to think before 9am. Whatever next?? I can only hope that this strange concept of original thought doesn’t pop up during the remainder of the day – I’m wiped out already and don’t have the energy for it, darlings …

This lunchtime, I’m off to my first Pilates class of the year, so I’m hoping I don’t have to speak to anyone and can just lie there and do odd things with my inner core. Or whatever it is. Mind you, if I ever find my inner core, the rest of me will be so shocked that I might disappear entirely. It’s the flabbiness that’s keeping me together, you know. UPDATE: ye gods but she’s worked us hard. I am obviously the class dunce! Even the retired people do it better than me. It was bizarrely relaxing though, so I’ll definitely keep going. Depending on work commitments and the threat of Wednesday lunchtime meetings of course.

I am also waiting for the last of my sets of papers to come through for Monday’s meeting and then I can send them off into the ether, lie down and have a snooze, ho ho. The whole thing of course is somewhat complicated by the fact that I have two back-to-back meetings on Monday about entirely different things (which idiot arranged that then? Oh. I did …) and have to be alert for both. Hmm, I don’t hold out much hope for that then.

And, bizarrely, I’ve had to change my keyboard as this morning my usual one started adding in extra letters even when I wasn’t typing them. Do you think I am at last being contacted by aliens and this is their chosen method of communication?? Really, m’dears, it wouldn’t surprise me. If my keyboard comes up with an actual sentence on its own, I shall lie down and wait for the Mother Ship to arrive. Again.

Tonight, it’s back to Scottish country dancing, hurrah! Even though I can’t remember any of the steps. I’m hoping it will all come flooding back though, as my dancing brain is an utter blank right now. Mind you, it’s really never been anything else. I’m also being brave and taking along a copy of Pink Champagne and Apple Juice as at our last class my dancing partner, Jackie, said she’d like one. I’m hoping she’s remembered. Or I’ll look like a really pushy sad author with no life. No – say nothing! I know – it describes me perfectly.

Today’s nice things:

1. Verda’s lovely comments
2. Pilates
3. Scottish country dancing.

Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Goldenford Publishers

Meetings mayhem, interviews, funky feet and tea

Lots of fun with meetings today – cancelled some, added in extra meetings just in case there aren’t enough in the New Year, chased up my Chair for others and hustled for decent amounts of food in the rest. Well, I don’t want my people gnawing at the furniture. Estates & Buildings will not be pleased if they do.

Talking of E&B though, they’ve done an excellent job of tracking down the parcel that the rather unhelpful and badly named Home Delivery Services have been trying to deliver to me for nearly a week. Now all I have to do is collect it and work out what it is. Christmas – it’s a wonderful thing, you know …

I’ve also decided to book in for a Beginners’ Pilates class at the University next year to replace my Back Exercise class. I’m hoping (a) it will be relaxing and (b) we won’t have to talk to anyone. Silence – or at least lack of conversation – is surely what lunchtimes are for. I’m also having my reflexology session today, so am looking forward to funky feet and feeling fabulous this afternoon. At least for a while.

In the meantime, the marvellous Penelope Cline has been working away on getting the Thorn in the Flesh cover into an acceptable format for the printers. Thanks so much, Penelope – and I’m sure we’ll get there in the end. Always good to have an artist’s eye on my attempts at a back cover blurb style too! Update: I've uploaded this to the printers now, so here's hoping all is okay. It looks great!

Tonight, I’m visiting my friend in hospital to see what the situation is at the moment. I’m hoping the news will be better, but I think we’re in for the long haul. Once home, I’m planning to catch up with last week’s “Ugly Betty”. I’m really not in a writing mood. Though, on second thoughts, here’s a poem:

Throwing away the core

My father told me apples
always knew the way
to paradise.

Today, no matter how many
I crunch, munch
and swallow,

savouring the crisp acidity
of the first crop,
the mellow toffee

of the last,
I find I'm never
the happier for it.

So now the man himself
has taken the path
to that pearly gate

I'll find my own taste
of heaven, and hope
it's not too late.


And in the event I didn't watch any TV this evening - have instead sorted out the Thorn cover (see above!) and responded to an interview request from Liam Tullberg for Chroma Journal. Hope it's what they want, and thanks for asking, Liam!

Ooh, and I've also had a marvellous email from Sarah Pracey of SPA PR who does the marketing for Dr Stuart's teas (see my weekend blog!). The very enterprising Sarah has contacted me and offered alternative venues where I can find my teas, as well as suggesting she could send me some of the ones I'm running low on. What a star! I'm utterly impressed with that kind of service, Sarah, and I'm already planning how one of my characters in The Bones of Summer can be a fan of Dr Stuart. Thank you so much! You've put a smile on my face indeed.

Today’s nice things:

1. Finding my parcel
2. Reflexology
3. Sarah from SPA.

Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Goldenford Publishers

Space-hopper on a pogo stick

Now there's a scary image ... and one provided by the noble Lord H when I asked him last night how he would describe my normal state of mental and emotional balance, and whether he thought I was currently worse than normal. His response to the latter was that as the closest image to me in my 20s had been a rollercoaster on speed, now that I was in my 40s, a space-hopper on a pogo stick was actually more manageable. For us both! So there you have it! I am indeed as spaced out of my head as I suspected, but this may well just be me. And at least Lord H has not complained of boredom - yet.

Anyway, today, you'll be pleased to know, has actually been a better day for us all at work. Double hurrahs all round and crack open a beer! Or two. Though I have still been rushing around with marketing packages across campus until everyone was fed up with me, and attempting to steer people towards our care services event day. Which proved thin on the ground in terms of actual custom, I must say, but I had lovely and pleasingly human chats with Ram, Sally & Marc. So that was grand (as my Grandmother would have said, though in a northern accent and with the word "pet" tucked on at the end ...)

I've even completed one draft of minutes and almost finished another, so my fingers have been flying across the keyboard like gazelles. Oh, and I squeezed in my back class too, which was fun. I really have to fit in more physical exercise into my average day if I can - it does make things better. Ye gods, the health gurus might be right after all then. Hush my mouth and call me a banana. Or bring me one. Either will do. Talking of which (exercise, not bananas), I'm thinking of taking a Scottish Country Dancing class next year if I can and if you don't have to bring a partner for it (Lord H and dancing do not fit - though I think he underplays his talent really ...). I do like dancing, and watching "Strictly" has brought back the urge once more. It could have been me, you know, up there in the spangly dress and the eight inch heels!! Now, there's an image that would have them fleeing to the hills indeed ...

Anyway, tonight, I should have been attending the first of my planned-for Book Festival events, but frankly I'm staying at home. I need to this week, I think. So I suspect I won't be attending any of the events I have tickets for during the next few days - thus making me once more a prime contender in the Non-Attending Book Festival Attendance competition. As always, I have been torn between the requirement to attend (I am a reader, and a writer - I should bloody well be going!) and the desperate need to avoid (a) all those irritatingly successful authors showing us how well they've done, and (b) crowds of people at a time of year I can't handle them. Ah, if only the festival was during the easier spring or summer months, I'm sure I'd actually get to a few of the meetings. That's my excuse anyway ...

So instead I'll be watching "Heroes" and drinking beer. Three cheers for the literary no-hoper, eh!

Today's nice things:

1. Nice chats with nice people
2. Staying in, in spite of all the pressure to be out
3. Lord H.

Anne Brooke
Anne's website

The seven dwarves and an overwhelming need for sherry

Ye gods, but it was all stress city at work this morning – several emails about the appalling inappropriateness (is that even a word??) of my poor little event flyers. Heck, and I was only trying to be helpful! Still, it managed to piss me off from the start of the day, so one hopes it can only get better. I sent back emails saying that at least I was moving from being “disappointing” to being “inappropriate”, which showed some kind of progress. Perhaps the next response to anything I did would be “shocking”. One lives in hope, eh …

Actually, I think people were surprised by the strength of my response, but heck, let them be surprised. Sometimes the university can be so nitpicking and bordering on anal, it might as well be an Olympic sport. Deep deep sigh. Still, since then, people have been nice - relatively - so here’s hoping that lasts too. In the meantime, I have rejigged the bloody flyers until I’m sick of the sight of them and will attempt to get them off my hands this afternoon. I’m also flicking through catalogues looking at free pens we could give to students, so that’s nice.

And poor Ruth has gone home sick, so we’re all living in the twilight zone here. Is that rustling I hear in the undergrowth?... However, the good news is we’ve successfully managed six of the seven dwarves today: I am Bitchy, Grumpy and Cross, and Ruth is Dopey, Sleepy and Sick. Almost the full set then.

This lunchtime, I went to my back exercise course – as I’ve done nothing over the summer at all, this was something of a shock. Should be good for me though – and at least it took me away from my desk for an hour, where anything could happen. And frequently does. Which it did – I’d already got rid of the ruddy flyer’s “inappropriate” content – allegedly, but people really have to take their tongues out of their own bottoms sometimes and live a little, to my mind – and then the boss (who knew perfectly well that I had changed the darn stuff) had to have a final little dig about it. Badly done, I thought – very badly done. I certainly wouldn’t have stirred things up for my staff (when I had staff) like that – just letting things go is a perfectly good managerial strategy on occasion. Trust me. It just goes to show that you can’t really rely on anyone to behave in a humane fashion these days. Least of all the so-called "naice" people. God, they're the worst. And oh how I long for a new job – now ye gods that would be nice.

In fact I was so pissed off that I simply left work at 4.30pm. I just didn't want to speak to any more people, so I told the Dean I was going - and for that reason. And then left. First time I've ever done that but if anything happened between then and 5.30pm, well bloody hell they can sort it themselves. Thank God I don't have to go back till 15th October - and double bollocks but I'm dreading it already.

Tonight, I’m hoping to do some writing, if I can somehow raise the emotional energy for it (don’t wait up then …), and I’ve “Heroes” lined up on TV. Plus a good strong sherry in my sights, thank God. No, make that two.

Today’s nice things:

1. Getting those fucking flyers off my hands!!!
2. TV
3. Sherry – large quantities of …

Anne Brooke
Anne's website

Backs, ballet and books

Bought cakes on my way to work today, as it’s my birthday tomorrow but I don’t work on Thursdays. So I will be Mrs Popular for a day, hurrah! The office signed a card for me, which was very sweet, and also sang “Happy Birthday” when I’d sat down at my desk, which was also very sweet – if rather disturbing. I don’t think we’ll be entering the next series of “Britain’s Got Talent” in the choir category … Though of course, if you’re reading this at all, Carol, you’re a solo star in the making!...

The car’s gone in for a service & MOT today, so Lord H and I have swapped cars for the day. Must try and remember that his Renault Laguna is built like a tank, compared to my little Fiesta (goodness, how typical boy/girl couple we sound, all of a sudden, at least in our car choices …) so I can’t swerve into the parking spaces as I can with my own. Hope poor little Rupert (yes, I do name my car – don’t you?) is okay, and safe back tonight. I do worry about him.

And I’ve been thinking lately about scaling down the attempts to break into the world of the mainstream published. I’m just starting my seventh book now, and in my seventh year of writing fiction, and there have been no bites from any of the “big boys” so perhaps it’s time to accept that it simply isn’t going to happen. The constant attempts to chip away at the very thick glass ceiling that seems to exist around me have also, particularly over the last two years, been very debilitating and have really taken away a lot of the enjoyment I get from actually writing. I absolutely loved writing my first novel, The Hit List, and though I think it’s my worst one in terms of quality (which is probably better than it being my best – I like to think I’m improving after all), I’d love to get back that enthusiasm and sense of freshness that powered me through it. And yes it’s lovely to have been recently published by Flame Books (http://www.flamebooks.com) but I think they’re finding it hard to sell decent quantities of A Dangerous Man which must therefore be tricky for them too. After my attempts to be smiley and nice to people with ridiculous and surely unjustified amounts of emotional power at the forthcoming Annual Writers’ Conference (http://www.writersconference.co.uk), we’ll have to see.

The same goes for my poetry, which I’ve been writing for about twenty years now. I get accepted so rarely in magazines these days (though I was doing better – perhaps writing better? – a couple of years ago), that I think it’s time to revisit my once a month submissions schedule. I might scale down to trying once every couple of months. Rejections are soul-destroying enough, after all. Why put myself through it more than I absolutely have to? And I certainly won’t be sending collections out anywhere again. In my experience, people have enthused and promised to come back to me, but then after a year or so they just seem to disappear. I’ll stick to the self-publishing route. It just makes me feel a lot happier. Apart from the lack of sales of course. That’s always a bummer.

All this writerly thought and potential decision-making does make me feel sad, I have to admit. It’s hard to win awards for my work and yet get shunned by 99% of the publisher world – with the honourable exception of Flame! And also not forgetting Goldenford though there of course I do have a directorial say. But, for my own peace of mind, I do have to begin to think practically. And number my sales in the tens and fifties, rather than the hundreds or thousands.

Went to my back exercise class at lunchtime – the last of the academic year, at least for me as I can’t do next week’s. I’m hoping to get away with a light regime this session as I’d like to be able to move without aching tomorrow. I’m such an old crock, you know … Though now they tell me that they might put an extra week on, so is there, even in Health, no mercy?! Darn it, eh!

And I’ve just given up on Linda Fairstein’s Death Dance. I lost interest by page 103, to be honest. I think it was all too fast-paced and exhausting, and I didn’t care enough. I also preferred the sub-plot and had no interest in the main plot about the ballet dancer. Sigh.

Talking of which, tonight, Lord H is taking me out to the ballet at Woking – we’re going to have dinner at the theatre and see “Sleeping Beauty”, so that should be great. I love the ballet. I could have been a ballet star, you know, except that I have no sense of grace or balance. Or indeed any kind of skill or talent in that area. Ah well, another vocation cruelly snatched away, ho ho …

Today’s nice things:

1. Cakes at the office
2. The back class
3. Sleeping Beauty.

Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.pinkchampagneandapplejuice.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk

Secretarial City and anniversary cakes

Madness in the office today – though a kind of organised, fairly contained madness, which was nice. I do so love it when there’s a secretarial panic on – it makes it all worthwhile. Anyway, I rushed around in a fairly logical way organising a meeting for tomorrow with the Guildford School of Acting, who want to come in to talk about our Freshers’ Week DVD script ideas. This meant throwing myself on the mercy of the adorable Helen from Catering – where would I be without her? – who rushed around and got me a room, the required numbers of glasses and biscuits too. What an angel.

Not only that, but we’re also doing a massive photocopy for next week’s Mentoring Board, which all has to be in hard copy. Don’t ask me why – as it seems most odd to me as these days I email 99% of stuff out, thank goodness. But for some reason, with this one, we have to photocopy for Britain (something to make an Olympic sport perhaps?... and yes I do hate that logo too ...) and then hand-deliver round the campus. What joy! Still, at least it gets us out of the office – usually – as this time I won’t have to do the hand-delivering, as I won’t be in on Friday. Ah well. So I am simply the Photocopying Queen.

Ooh, and as tomorrow is my third year anniversary at the University, I’ve bought cakes for the office for today. Which – hurrah! – include some utterly gorgeous chocolate chip cookies which are like heaven in the mouth (sorry, too poetic by far, I realise – but I felt I had to emote at this point) and make up 1000% for missing out on my chocolate chip biscuit earlier in the week. Ha! And it also means I am Mrs Popular for a while. More hurrahs.

Other work excitements - we've all got a wedding invitation from Carol (who marries Mike in August), which I'm thrilled about. So I shall have to get Lord H to buy me another frock - and maybe even a hat! I love hats. But rarely wear 'em. Sadly, I do look best in the kind of hats worn by the Cavaliers during the Civil Wars, but I fear that won't suit at all ...

Did my back exercise class at lunchtime – I do enjoy it. It makes me almost feel like a normal person doing normal things. Astonishing really. The tutor is pleased with me as I appear to be improving. Or maybe she’s feeling kinder, as I am the class no-hoper after all. In a fit of enthusiasm, I have actually purchased an exercise band from her so I can (no, don’t laugh … as I know perfectly well this won’t happen …) continue my good work during the week. Naturally, I have purchased the weakest strength version as I am so utterly pathetic at pulling the darn thing in any direction – which turns out to be Medium Strength, as the Wimp Strength is only for toddlers. Sigh. Seems ageist to me. But I am cheered with the fact that the Medium Strength band comes in a fetching shade of green, which goes charmingly with my eyes. Ho ho.

Oh and, groan, the boss brought his small child in today at lunchtime – which always makes me feel twitchy as I don’t like children, especially when I’m not prepared for them. Still, I managed to make a fairly good job of politely ignoring the alien in our midst until the boss took the child away and attempted to get us all to say bye-bye to it. Honestly, I don’t like to be prejudiced, but what is it about parents that makes so many of them turn from reasonable people who allow others their likes and dislikes into people who assume that you will actually want to relate in any way to their offspring? And, while I'm on the subject, why do parents put on funny voices when speaking to the little people anyway? It’s a mystery to me. The upshot was that when chivvied along to say bye-bye to Small Child, I must admit I didn’t play up to the role, instead simply smiling in a strained fashion and turning away. Hell, I’m in my forties now – I don’t have to pretend. And yes, there are some little people I’m quite fond of (few and far between, and possibly fewer than my friends with children actually imagine …), but only because I’ve got to know them better as people, not because they’re children per se. And I still wouldn’t want to be with one on my own – so, if you’re reading, ignore the soft spot I have for Charlotte & Sam, and don’t put me on your child-minding list, Jane H – honestly!!...

Sigh - the London Magazine has sent me a sharp, no-nonsense note rejecting my poetry offering. Actually I'm not really that bothered as I didn't expect any interest - it was a wild-card shot over the bows in the first place, as I know I'm way too 'umble for their 'igh-class clientele (ooh I say, pass the caviare, do, Carruthers ...). But they could at least have been friendly. Buggers, eh?

Tonight, Lord H is out shopping as it’s his turn, and I plan to ring Pauline (hello, Pauline – if you’re reading this, I’ll be ringing you sometime, I hope), my Kent friend. Am also hoping to get some more done to The Bones of Summer as Craig is feeling twitchy at being stuck where he currently is. Though, rest assured, he thinks the view is good … Hmm, Lord preserve us – pretentious twaddle, we say! I am rapidly becoming a fictionalised element in my own autobiography. Ye gods, somebody pass me a reality pill.

Oh, and I'm not feeling too good - double bugger. Am snorting like an old horse and sounding pathetic. Hmm, no change there then.

Today’s nice things:

1. Secretarial busyness – hurrah!
2. The wedding invitation
3. Anniversary cakes!

Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.pinkchampagneandapplejuice.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk

Cacti and cockroaches

Another battle to circumnavigate the building cages into work today. Goodness me but my exercise quota will be overshot at this rate, what with having to walk halfway round the campus to get into the office. Well, that may be a slight poetic exaggeration, but heck I always exaggerate. Tee hee.

Oh, and Lord H and I have been chuckling at the funny test papers someone sent him yesterday which can be found here: http://www.scribd.com/doc/5107/They-didnt-study - my personal favourite is “Find X”. The answer is right after all, as the question wasn’t “Find the Value of X”!!! And they do always tell you to answer the question …

But at least it’s stopped raining and the sun is even shining. Ye gods, must be springtime already. Again. Here in the hot seat, all my carefully planned meetings appear to be going to the wall, as nobody wants to come to them at the moment. Groan. It’s really quite disheartening. I even fear for my stalwart Steering Group on Monday as (a) we have nothing much to discuss and (b) everyone seems to have gone on holiday. Perhaps I am not ordering enough muffins and they’re beginning to vote with their feet? (The people, not the muffins). Wouldn’t surprise me. Anyway, I’m fighting a rearguard action to make it into a brief informal meeting instead of the usual two hour formal one, but we’ll see. Result: Failure. The meeting is cancelled. Groan. It’s one of the ones I like, darn it!

There’s a very strange squashed thing on the doorstep to the office today, I must say – but none of us are brave enough to do anything about it. Could be animal, vegetable or mineral, to my mind, but looks like some ghastly stag beetle thing, I fear. Or, worse, a cockroach. That’s what the students seem to think anyway. Horrible thought! Still, at least it’s dead and its friends haven’t turned up to the funeral party yet. So it could be worse. Hope the cleaner can do something with it this afternoon.

This lunchtime, I’ve done my back exercise course – but tried to take it easy as my neck’s not so good at the moment. Must be the golf on Friday, I fear. Though at least it’s better now – the neck, not (sadly) the golf. Actually, the trainer was very nice and put in extra neck exercises for me. Might try to do some of these during the week too, if I’m feeling noble. Hmm. So don’t wait up then.

Oh, and a man came to try to mend the blind I broke last week. Unfortunately, in my enthusiasm to show him how I’d done it, I leaned over the desk, at which point the cactus we keep near the window attached itself to my jacket and swung itself, the pot and all the soil over the floor. My, how the window man laughed. Still, at least he said it did show him how we’d managed to trash the joint. Suspect that Estates & Facilities now think we’re all insane in here. They won’t be far wrong either. One good thing though – the cactus and the jacket both survived the encounter. Not sure about my reputation as a professional though …

On the writing front, I’m scribbling my way through the scene I left out on my way through The Gifting. I think I know where to put it, but will have to see how it feels when it’s done. ’Twas ever thus. Oh, and I’ve just finished the latest edition of poetry/short story magazine, Tears in the Fence. Must admit to enjoying the short stories more – some great stuff there. But a few of the poems were good too. And anyway it’s always a good thing to support the small poetry presses – without them we’d be forced to read a diet of only Armitage and Muldoon. Arrrgghh!! Scary thought indeed … Does anyone actually like any of the “big” poetry hitters these days? Anyone with any reading sense anyway …

Oh and the mean punters at The Intepreter's House have turned down my latest poetry submission. Buggers. Obviously don't know quality and style when they see it then. So no surprises there.

Tonight, Lord H and I are going to be glued to our video of last week’s “The Last Detective”. Might even have a sherry if I’m feeling wild. After all, Wednesday Night is Sherry Night … Perhaps I am turning into my grandmother (argghh!!) after all? Someone pass the Fruit & Nut chocolate and the support stockings then …

Today’s nice things:

1. Funny test papers
2. Writing
3. TV.

Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.pinkchampagneandapplejuice.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk

Interviews and Aida

Managed to squeeze in the first pass through my HagsHarlotsHeroines (http://www.hagsharlotsheroines.co.uk) interview today, as well as having a good look through later on and sending it to Laura (http://www.myspace.com/lauracwilkinson) for comment. I hope she likes it – or most of it – I’ve tried to be as honest as possible, but am happy to change/add stuff as need be. Anyway, I enjoyed answering the questions – it’s nice to think about why I write what I write sometimes. And, heck, being a self-obsessed egomaniac (is there any other kind?), I could talk about myself forever. Sad to say … Must get on with the darn writing though – I really wish I had a chunk of time to get stuck into the ending of The Gifting, but I’m forced to do it in dribs and drabs at the moment, which is making me very twitchy. Still, once I get the ending bashed out in some form or other, I can go back and edit. A process I do actually enjoy – hurrah!

At work, we’ve had a rather nasty email from a very unhappy person going round the university accusing us of all sorts of dubious and utterly impossible activities – it’s not nice and I really didn’t like having to look at it this morning. Suffice it to say that it’s being dealt with in the most compassionate way possible. Thank goodness. I can do with fewer of those for sure.

Lunchtime found me at my first back exercise class of the season (as I haven’t been able to do the others) – I was rather dreading it, but in the event it was fine, though I took it easier this time. Last time, I ached for aeons afterwards. I’m hoping that doesn’t happen again this week, but we’ll see. This afternoon, I’ve minuted the Nursery Management Group, where we were all rather vague and charming, as our kick-ass chair has left on maternity leave. But we bumbled through somehow, though I did feel a bit guilty as I suspect I should have made sure we knew who was in charge before we began – I’d made assumptions which were proved incorrect! There’s a surprise then … not. Call myself a secretary? Bah, I say! Bah! I’ve also sorted out minutes from other meetings, fiddled around with web stuff and attempted to look like a professional. Not sure I fooled anyone though.

And at home the (German) neighbour has had problems with his email, which Lord H has now sorted. Cue cries of triumph. Bizarre though that my email now has a few spam messages - in German - on it. Spooky, eh ...

Tonight, Lord H and I are off to the opera – Aida in Woking – so am hugely looking forward to that. Opera – soaps with songs. They’re great. I can’t remember what the heck it’s about though as my brain is totally befuddled. As usual. Heck, it’s sooo good to be lifted out of oneself now and again.

Today’s nice things:

1. Interview questions
2. Back class
3. Aida.

Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.pinkchampagneandapplejuice.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk

Manor Park and mining the ideas factory

Did some real secretarial stuff today and prepared papers for Monday’s Steering Group meeting – which feels like getting more back to normal after the hiatus of the Easter holidays, conference etc. And God knows how much I like normal. If only I saw it more often.

The rest of the morning was spent visiting the new Manor Park campus – where Carol works some of the time as part of her mentoring remit. We walked there and back which took about 20-25 minutes or so each way, but my goodness she sets quite a pace. I’d forgotten how much quicker (at anything …) I must have been in my twenties. Or maybe I’m just used to a more sedate Golfing Pace these days? Anyway the actual campus is lovely – nice big rooms and all ensuite of course, as is usual these days. Now when I was at university all those years ago, the shared bathrooms were where you made your friends. Hmm, maybe that was the problem?!?... Mind you, I was surprised at the lack of social space – some comfy but characterless common rooms and one table-tennis room only. I suppose they use the kitchens for talking – by the way, the kitchens and common rooms all have digital TV. Bliss indeed. The setting is good too, but will be nicer when the trees and grass etc is all grown up. If you see what I mean.

What with all the excitement, I decided to skip my first back exercise course, which should have been today. But I don’t think I would have gone anyway, as I’m not feeling my best. Must be all that fast walking.

Ooh, and I popped out to the University gallery at lunchtime as there’s a new sports photographs exhibition on, some of them by staff. It was great. One of them – a picture of a deep-sea diver by Robert Kelsey (staff member) was so inspirational that I scribbled a poem about it:

Life after darkness: Peter Kelsey

He swims in shades of blue
deep where no-one
can seek him,
finds a narrow crack
between unknown worlds –

he’s been searching
for so long,
thought he’d never
see it;
all these years
and now suddenly
it’s here.

Only a moment
for the decision to be made –
didn’t think
he’d even need that
but he does –

then two kicks
of dark flipper,
a streak of rubber coating,
glint of torchlight
and he’s through.

Out there
in undiscovered blue.


I’ve had some ideas about the end of The Gifting too, which might steer me through some kind of an initial path into it. And also add to the tension a little. I hope. So I feel a bit better about it at the moment. Have to get on and actually write the darn stuff sometime though …

We had an hysterical conversation this afternoon about how our hairdos look whenever we wake up in the morning (the surprised cockatoo look is very in this year, don’t y’know). Ruth is convinced there are evil pillow elves which come in the night and mess things up. I can well believe it. Mind you, Ruth also says tent-face is worse, as whenever you’re in a tent, your face always ends up wedged against the canvas. Not being an outdoorsy type, this isn’t something I have to worry about. Thank God.

Oh, and I’ve written a poem about Easter too:

Easter

I used to like it
I mean ye gods but it’s got to be better
than Christmas

but somewhere between
the forgotten ages
of 38 and
42 – that nationally recognised
twilight zone for women –
I lost any interest
I might have had

in chocolate (unless
expensive), fluffy
lambs, small ducks,
irritating children
and one hundred and one
uses for an egg.

I mean it’s hard-boiled,
soft-boiled or
nothing, isn’t it?

Get over it
already.

So I’ve had enough
of festivals.
I’ve cancelled them,
at least in my house,
and from now on
I’ll be living
a pleasant, unexcitable
life.

Believe me it’s better
that way. Easter?
Bah, humbug, I say.


And I think I’ve decided not to go up to London this Friday. It’s just been quite an exhausting week and, to be honest, I don’t feel on top form, so I think I’ll give it a miss. I just desperately need a whole night in. And to see Lord H too, as this week if I’ve been in, he’s been out (tonight, it’s boring old Village Hall Committee for him), and vice versa, and I miss him. Plus I really need to get some sleep – particularly as May is going to be rather hectic. Yes, I know - excuses, excuses, but it's just the way it is.

Meanwhile, the Pink Champagne and Apple Juice site is coming along nicely. The launch will be on Friday 4 May, 3pm UK time, and I’ll be sending early invitations out to a few people shortly. It’s looking good, and now has a chat/comments section as well as the other whizzes & bangs. So thanks, Sue & Frank (http://www.teafriendsandchocolate.com/sue/) once more!

Tonight, I’m doing some much-needed shopping (groan) and then I’ll try to get some of my writing ideas (see above) started. That’s the plan anyway. Ho ho.

Today’s nice things:

1. A morning looking at Manor Park
2. Getting an idea for The Gifting
3. The Pink Champagne website preparation.

Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com/
http://www.goldenford.co.uk/

A review, a lot of laziness and some scribbling

Hell, that's what Bank Holidays are for, surely? I've been soooo lazy today that I haven't even been out of the flat, and I've spent a glorious two hours this afternoon napping on the sofa. Bliss. I am well up there for the shortlistings for the Lydia Languish Lethargy Awards. If they make it an Olympic sport, I'm going for Gold.

I've also been much cheered by a very kind and also very balanced review from Erastes (http://www.myspace.com/erastesdotcom), the author of the marvellous Standish (available from http://www.amazon.co.uk) and Director of the Erotic Authors Association (http://www.eroticauthorsassociation.com) about A Dangerous Man (http://www.flamebooks.com), which I reproduce below (as for some reason I can't persuade it to upload to my website at the moment, sigh!):

“It's taken me a day or two to mull over this book, because I wanted to think about how it made me feel. It's unlike anything I've read before, because mainly I've read gay historical stories, other than short stories – and contemporary is kind of beyond my ken. I don't know how the modern gay man in London feels or what the scene is. (Ok I don't know that for 1800 either but then neither does anyone else so that's ok). I enjoyed it. Let me say that at the first. It's well written by someone who obviously knows how to write, who knows how to use the language to describe place with what seems an effortless grace so you always have a sense of your surroundings, whether it be a seedy bar in Hackney, or a graceful house in Islington. You can smell the leather, feel the heavy crystal, feel the grit under your shoes. Michael (don't call me Mikey) is an artist, struggling to make ends meet, and is not averse to a little part-time prostitution to help those ends meet. He lives with Joe and Paul, Joe owns a gallery but won't hang his paintings – Paul knocks money off the rent for a little sexual action. Then one day Michael gets the chance of a commission in a City firm and falls head over heels in love with Jack, his potential new patron. And this is where it all kicks off. The plot moves swiftly on from this point, never leaving the reader bored. It's a first person novel, but although Michael does spend a lot of time in introspection it’s rarely repetitive, not over angsty, and gradually as the book moves on and Michael is "forced" from one position to another, you slowly get the feel that all is not quite well with Michael and the title becomes clear. The choice of first person for this book is very clever, because you don't really get into Michael's head at all- and that's because he doesn't even allow himself in there. Characterisation: Each character is well done, and it's interesting from my point of view that the one character that we don't actually get a full picture of is Paul, but that's probably because Michael has no interest in describing him more fully for us. I particularly liked Jack's family because Jack's mother reminded me very forcibly of my own, with her motherly concern. I also liked the landlord of the pub that Michael pulls tricks in. I was a little annoyed at Michael's inability to work – he's a bit of a sponger – and immediately turns tricks when he needs £500 when it's not explained why he couldn't just get a job. Artistic temperament, I suppose. But he's not meant – or that's how I read it – to be an attractive character. He's an opportunist and he knows what he wants and that's how he gets to be where he is by the end – by reacting to external stimuli and not thinking first. The artistic pieces were particularly well done; Anne Brooke thanks a friend for help with these and I would never have known that Anne wasn't an artist herself, she seems to get right under Michael's skin when he draws – if we can't understand the feeling ourselves, she describes it so well that we feel what he's feeling as he does it. I loved the section when Michael was explaining (to Jack's father) how he draws, and it's totally unintelligible to everyone except Michael. I could just see their blank faces, but to Michael it makes perfect sense. This book could easily have gone the typical romance route, and that's actually what I was expecting, it even lulled me into a false sense of security at one point. But it's not, so don't go looking for happy ever afters. The ending is raw and bleak and wonderful, and I can't say any more really without spoiling it, but there's a lot of room for reader conjecture as to what actually happens – or at least that's how I read it. I ended up, as I'm sure I was supposed to, feeling desperately sorry for Michael, when he'd annoyed me so much throughout. On a personal note, for a contemporary gay story, I would have liked the sex scenes to be more explicit. It was a very grown-up story, and the sex scenes were handled with a fade out or "We made love and it was very good", perhaps not in every scene, as Michael does do it a lot, but I'd have liked some of the (no pun intended) seminal scenes to be more graphically described, particularly as the sexual aspect of Michael's nature is so important to the book. But that's just me and my dirty mind. But all in all a good book. If you are looking for a predictable tale of love, then this isn't for you, but if you like a book that gets under your skin and makes you think long after you've closed the last page, like it has for me, then try “A Dangerous Man”. I'll certainly be looking out for more of Ms Brooke's work.”

Thanks, Erastes! Much appreciated. But I must admit I'm not even going to try for more sex content in my next one - I simply don't have the skills to be an erotic author, I'm afraid. Must be something to do with living in Surrey ...

So, fired up with enthusiasm, I've made a start on Simon's big story-telling scene in The Gifting - not much done, but at least it's a beginning. And, hey, it's a bank holiday so I'm not pushing it. That's tomorrow's job. And I've also done some sudokus and the odd crossword, so my brain is now too tired for anything more.

Tonight, it's sausages, chips 'n' beans, plus beer and ice cream. Oh and we've had chocolate too - so this is the ultimate anti-health zone right now. Though I did do some exercise this morning, plus stare at my Brite Light, so I am keeping flab and depression at bay. Sort of. And later it's a new series of "New Tricks" on tv, so that'll be bliss. Must remember to video the programme on Jackie magazine on the other side though - heck, everything I learnt about life I learnt from that magazine! If only I'd kept all my copies, I'd be worth a fortune now ...

Today's nice things:

1. Erastes' review
2. Writing more of The Gifting
3. TV.

Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk

Golf, Gifting and good sales

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Back class and the Laughter Gym

Feeling better today, phew. I think that whatever it is has turned into a slight cold, which I can cope with. Heck, I should be used to them by now! Today, it’s a busy day on campus, with another UCAS day, which means that grey parking permit people (of which I am one) can’t park, so Lord H gave me a lift in this morning. This meant I arrived at 8.30am, which is a bit of a shame on a day where there hasn't been a great deal to do.

Interestingly though, there’s still no “at risk” letter for me, so I’m beginning to wonder if my association with Student Care Services is actually proving to be more effective in terms of job salvation than my grouping with the support staff category. Hmm, I’m sure there’s a religious symbolism in there somewhere, but I’m way too sneezy to find it. Lord H says that if I haven’t received the Curse of the Black Spot just yet, I should beware of one-legged men with parrots on their shoulders. Describes the Vice-Chancellor to a tee, I’m sure. (And if I don’t get my letter after that sentence, it will be a ruddy miracle indeed …)

Went to my back exercise class at lunchtime, so had to lie down in a darkened room with a flannel, come the afternoon. Lord, but she worked us hard. Tonight, the Health Centre hosted a Happy Hour Laughter Gym after work, with a Laughter Consultant (hey, what a great job!!) we’ve hired who cost £200 per hour. Heck, I’m definitely in the wrong job. I’ll tell you a bad joke for a fiver. Lord, but I’m cheap. We had great fun though - did laughter yoga and laughter meditation and felt like a million dollars afterwards. Definitely worth it.

Mind you, extra fun was had by the fact that my boss and the Dean of Students were both wearing the same clothes today - consisting of blue & white checked shirt, taupe trousers and brown shoes. They looked like Tweedledum and Tweedledee. But oh the humiliation across campus - everyone will think that Student Care Services has a uniform ...

Oh, and the neighbour down the road has complained as he gets a lot of my post and is fed up with delivering it to me. Which I suppose is fair enough as he’s in his 80s and we do have a tricky set of outside stairs. He’s now saying he doesn’t want to deliver any more of it, which is rather worrying. After all, it’s not my fault and I do also deliver post to him. So it’s a two-way problem, I think. Anyway, I’ve complained to the Royal Mail, and have had a chat with him on the phone today – so I think he’s feeling happier. But I hope he doesn’t start throwing anything essential away – I dread the thought that someone might send me something nice and I might never know. Maybe we’ll have to think about getting an outside mail box put in, as they do in the US. Still won’t stop the postman getting the numbers mixed up though. Sigh.

Tonight, it’s a night in. Bliss. Might type up what I’ve done of “The Gifting” and also watch my video of yesterday’s “Life on Mars”. We’ll see. Oh and the lovely Becky on Myspace (http://www.myspace.com/edie1964) tells me she's enjoying "A Stranger's Table" - huge thanks, Becky! I really appreciate you saying that!

Today’s nice things:

1. Back class
2. Laughter Gym
3. Not getting a Black Spot letter – yet …

Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk

Inhalations and acceptances

In a brave bid to fight back the grim reaper last night, Lord H persuaded me that a steam inhalation with Vick's vapour rub would be just the ticket. This involved putting a towel over my head and all but plunging my nose into a basin of steaming pungency, while Lord H egged me on from the sidelines and ignored my cries for mercy. You may laugh, but you try breathing in a basin full of eucalyptus knives whilst looking like an extra from "Antony and Cleopatra". Or, as Lord H so kindly put it, like the Virgin Mary after a particularly bad session in the stables. Sometimes, husbands can be a little too honest, to my mind ...

Mind you, it did seem to work, as I felt really spaced out - in a nice way - afterwards, and my throat stopped being quite so fierce. Hmm, I could get quite hooked on these, I feel, and have even had another one today of my own volition. Are steam inhalations addictive?

But it does remind me of the time Lord H and I were on a golf tuition holiday, and I couldn't stop sneezing for two days. Now, this is very amusing for the first half hour or so, but after a while you do actually feel that you might lose the will to live or, at the very least, your nose. So Lord H (who is vulnerable to sneezing bouts and in fact has a whole, very complex sneeze handling routine) persuaded me to do what he has to do in order to stop - which is basically put your nose in a basin of cold water and breathe in. This seemed at first pass to be a good idea but, bearing in mind that I can't swim and am terrified of drowning, he kindly said that he would hold my head under water for me until the problem stopped. However, just as we were set up to do this, I lost my bottle - partly on the grounds that our hotel room was on the ground floor next to a main thoroughfare, so if anyone glanced in, Lord H would have a lot of explaining to do. Oh yes, m'lud, I always hold my wife's head under water until she stops struggling on a regular basis ... Hmm. Mind you, if I am married to a slow-burn wife murderer, what a way to go, eh? Interestingly, that was the same holiday that I dragged myself up early one morning to have a longer bath and was too dopey to disconnect Lord H's recharging shaver which was hovering gently over the water all the while I was washing. I've never seen him move so fast, once he arrived. Really, it's astonishing I'm still alive at all, and Lord H isn't struggling for survival in one of our overcrowded prison cells ...

I didn't bother to go to bed last night, as I knew lying down in our always icy bedroom would be a Bad Idea. So I did a bit of napping on the sofa, along with a lot of crosswords and sudokus, and a spot of TV. It's funny how I've always instinctively known the times when I won't be able to lie down without making myself worse (and keeping poor Lord H awake too ...). Maybe it's something my body tells me, as it's not a state I can easily explain to anyone else? It's also funny that I know when that state has passed, and it happens very suddenly. Always. For instance, today at 5.55am, I knew that sitting up was the only way forward, but at 6am, I knew that lying down on the bed would now be fine, so that's what I did, managing to grab a couple of hours of real sleep at last. Weird stuff indeed.

So, another day off sick today, though I do feel more human, thank God. Shame I'll miss my second back strengthening class, but hope I'll get the homework sent through anyway. Still don't want to eat anything, though I have got dressed for the first time since Sunday. In clothes I haven't been arsed to iron first, I have to say - so Lord H will not be happy, as he has issues with the crumpled look. Well, he is an accountant. What do you expect? I'm hoping that most of the creases will have dropped out by the time the homing hour arrives ...

Today's TV has been quite good, for a change. Couldn't resist the morning's offering of "Star Trek", which was great. Wish the programme planners would bring my regular fix of ST back to a normal hour and day though, so I could feed my obsession properly. I see the next double bill is later in the week at the ridiculous hour of 1 am. I don't want still to be ill enough to see it though! Absolutely not! Oh, and I've also just finished watching my DVD of Oliver Stone's "Alexander". I really enjoyed this - I must be one of the few people around who really like Colin Farrell, and think he's electric on screen. Or maybe I've only seen him when he's having a good moment? I did so love him in that strange off-genre piece about a man stuck in a phone box talking for his life. Can't remember what it was called now (probably something simple like "The Phone Box"?) but it was utterly gripping and he was brilliant. I could have done with more Farrell nudity in "Alexander" however - that would have been fun. He's got a nice body, from the glimpses I had of it.

Oh, and the lovely people at Bird and Moon (http://www.birdandmoon.com/55words/) have accepted the piece of flash fiction I sent them and will publish it online in February. Hurrah! That's really given me a lift, I have to say.

Tonight, I plan to do sod all. Well, I will try to do a little ironing maybe if I have the energy, but I don't see that lasting more than ten minutes. At most.

Today's nice things:

1. Vick inhalations
2. The flash fiction acceptance
3. The Alexander film.

Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk

The terrors of snow … and clingfilm

Yikes! Is it just me or does the sight of snow fill other people with fear and oppression? Oh. Right. It is just me then. Ah well. I did think it was more than ridiculously cold last night – so much so that Lord H took pity on me, as I grabbed my bedsocks, dressing gown and hot water bottle, and finally condescended to get the winter duvet out. At last! At last! Not that he actually put it inside the duvet cover though. No, he simply laid it on top of the one we were already in. So I can see there may well be more struggles ahead in terms of personal heat maintenance …

This morning, I had my usual fight with the clingfilm we currently have whilst trying to wrap Lord H’s sandwiches. I don’t know what’s wrong with this batch, but each time I try to tear a slice off, it rips, divides itself into two and starts to fight back. It ends up in my hair, on my neck or wrapped round my sleeves – anywhere but the ruddy sandwich. What’s wrong with it? Does it have issues? Does it really want to be kitchen foil or a Tupperware box, and therefore feels trapped in its actual status? It’s a mystery, but I’m beginning to talk to it to try to soothe its wounded feelings. And I fear that it’s only a matter of time before it talks back. The only way of getting it to play ball is to get Lord H to do it. When he hears the screaming (mine) from the kitchen, he rushes in, wrestles the clingfilm holder to the floor, somehow manages to find a slice that hasn’t been ripped to shreds by my efforts, tears me off a decent amount and sticks the top of it to the shelf so I can simply pull it off (as it were) when needed. A couple of weeks ago, he even stuck five pieces along the shelf during one weekend for ease of use as the following week went by. Which meant my mornings were relatively calm and lovely. Unfortunately, he hasn’t had the time since then, but I live in hope. And I’m looking forward to starting a new batch of the darn stuff, which might be more amenable. Ye gods, I really do need to get out more.

None of this excitement stopped the snow that came upon us in the night of course. Very pretty of course, but not if you have to go out in the darn stuff. Though actually it wasn’t that slippery – more like thick layers of fluffy sugar on the car. And by the time I’d got to work, the boys with the brooms had already been out, clearing the paths and adding grit, so the Estates & Facilities department win the Superhero Medal of the week. So far. Not that Lord H is that far behind though – especially as he did brush the snow off the outside stairs this morning, to save the pain of struggling up them tonight.

Ooh, and Clayton (http://www.myspace.com/dwbsoho) has asked me how last night’s Guildford Writers (http://www.guildfordwriters.net) meeting went. I enjoyed it actually. Thanks for asking, Clayton. There were a fair number there, but they all had good stuff to read – all novels, except me with my flash fiction pieces. It was nice to get back into the swing of it again and, even though I still hate reading my stuff out – it makes me feel so darn vulnerable and not even half as good as everyone else – it was as always very useful to get comments, especially on the second piece, which needed to be cut down to below 100 words. They managed this, with words to spare, so many thanks for that, GWs. I also think it was good for me to get out and do something else, apart from worrying about personal stuff. And I do so love hearing what everyone else is writing and making what I hope are useful comments on it. We also have a laugh, which is nice. I need that too. Perhaps next time, I’ll try and be brave and take some of “The Gifting” along, if I can bear the thought. You never know … Funny how the novels always feel so intensely personal, whereas the shorter pieces and the poetry don’t – and that in spite of the poetry talking about subjects and feelings far more supposedly “personal” to me. Maybe I’m just a dab hand at displacement.

Today, I’ve been proactive in terms of sorting myself out and ordered a SAD light from Britebox (http://www.britebox.co.uk) in the hope that it might help these winter glooms. Goodness, that makes me feel in control of things – almost! It’s supposed to arrive within the next couple of days, so I hope the instructions are easy and that it doesn’t fuse the flat. And if you hear that I’ve been dancing in the streets of Godalming, you’ll know it works.

Oh, and Lord H’s artwork to show a happy rabbit under a SAD light is this:

OOOO
^^^^^^^^

=:-)

One day, I swear, I’ll produce a booklet of Lord H’s computer art. It’ll be a wow. And especially meaningful now in what is National Rabbit Week (http://www.nationalrabbitweek.co.uk). How I wish we could have an office rabbit, like we used to have a school hen when I was young. That would be soooo good. Still, not to be, I suspect. Perhaps Wayne (http://www.myspace.com/wblackhurst) will give us more photos of his rabbits sometime soon, and I can slake my thirst on that. Over to you, Wayne …

At lunch, I went to the first of my back strengthening courses at the Sports Centre. I shall find my inner core if it kills me. Actually I thoroughly enjoyed it, though I’m very achy right now. Lots of very useful floor exercises and also with using one of those large exercise balls. I was terrified of mine at first (I’m sure it was glaring at me) but I ended up loving it. The trainer is going to give us homework to do while we’re on the course (it’s five weeks), so I am aiming for the perfect back. Which might be a dream too far for a writer? I was rather amused though at the beginning when we had to stand next to a wall and see how far we could put our hands between our backs and the wall itself. M’dears, I could have got an elephant through. And its accompanying relatives. But sadly you’re only supposed to be able to put your fingers through the gap. Ah well. At least I give the trainer a lot to work with.

This evening, I have been shopping and then, tonight, I’m hoping to look at the edits for those flash fiction pieces and get the first draft down of that poem I started on yesterday. I do have this sneaking suspicion though that the “poem” might well turn out to be more fictional in form. I’ll have to see. Perhaps a writing thought for later? You never know.

Today’s nice things:

1. Clingfilm teamwork with Lord H
2. Ordering a SAD light
3. Planning some writing for tonight.

Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com

First day back

Much better than expected. Not as many emails to sort out from the holiday period as I’d feared and no phone messages. Bliss! Did a lot of chatting with those in the office today (the boss doesn’t come back until next week …) and took down the Christmas tree and decorations. Have decided to book myself into the new UniSport back strengthening course which starts later in January – I’ll find my ruddy inner core if it kills me.

And there’s fame at last for my office fluffy pen selection – my picture of what my world looked like at 5pm one day last December has now finally been uploaded onto the Radio 4 Window on Your World site and can be found here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio4/news/pm/galleries/901/63/#gallery901

The other six zillion photos are fun to browse through too, but I think I win on the sad git factor.

I’ve also spent time filling in my work online calendar with the stuff already in my new paper 2007 diary. There are things in there up until September now so the year will happen after all, thank God. Control freaks of the world unite … And last of all, I’m thinking about our March holiday – I think Sardinia might be the one – I got very excited about http://www.justsardinia.co.uk as it seemed to be the one tour operator that actually allows people to have a March holiday. All the other mainstream names seem to think that the year starts in April or, if it doesn’t, then they want to send us to Dubai or Tenerife. Thanks, and one day I suspect I’d probably like to go to Dubai, but the idea of Sardinia is more attractive right now.

This afternoon, we had a team effort focusing on the regular Let’s Untangle the Window Blind Cords crisis. This involved three people, a window hook and a lot of tugging. Goodness know how the cords got like that in the first place – it must have been one hell of a Christmas party. But we are now free and ready for all eventualities over the coming month. At least in terms of seeing the outside world. Phew.

Tonight, I am intending to do more slumping – the emotional rollercoaster of having to go back to work is really more than enough for one day – but I will try to watch the News later on. As per my resolution.

Today’s nice things:

1. Seeing my office photo on the Web
2. Looking at Sardinia
3. Slumping.

Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk

Velasquez and clotted cream

Yes, the ideal combination. Lord H and I were up at the crack of dawn today in order to get to London on the 9.20 train. I factored in huge amounts of time to drive to Woking during the rush hour, but the rush hour appeared to be inoperative (hey, is nobody at all at work this week? What is the country coming to ...?) and we arrived at the station at 8.55. The car park was virtually empty too - and is now charging a massive £8.30 to park all day. Ye gods, for that price, I'd expect to own the bloody car park. And have it lined with Daniel Craig look-alikes too. Naked ones. Thank goodness the machine accepts credit cards and Lord H was feeling noble. Talking of noble, I lightheartedly waved my railcard at Lord H and said I'd pay for the train. Forgetting of course that the card doesn't work till after 10am, so I had to pay £40 for travel cards for the both of us. £40!! I ask you ... And people wonder why I won't work in London.

Lord H had decided to make the most of the train journey to package his theology essay & questionnaires into the appropriate envelopes (proofread and printed off late last night - Good Wife points all round ...) - so as soon as he sat down, he unbuttoned his coat, scrabbled at chest level inside his jumper and produced a paperclip. Then he did it again. And I'd been wondering what men's nipples were for. Now I know ... When I voiced this in my usual dulcet (not) tones, his response was that I should wait to see where he'd stored the rubber bands. At which point, the tannoy announcement asked us to let the train staff know if we saw anything suspicious and the family the other side of the aisle moved seats.

Which brings me to the National Gallery Velasquez exhibition. Wonderful. I can highly recommend it. Best of all, there are only four rooms so you don't have to have art (oh Lord, where's the chocolate, please give it to me now) overload syndrome. And there's a free micro-booklet which tells you just enough about each picture to keep your interest. Bliss. My favourites? - rather surprisingly, the portraits of men at court whom Velasquez knew. Very realistic and humane stuff. Moving too. Lord H's favourite? - the Rokeby Venus (the naked lady with her back to us and gazing in the mirror). Need you ask? However, Lord H did comment that her bottom was in sharp focus but the rest of her was very soft and almost impressionistic. He was right too - the photographer's eye, eh? Not, of course, the half-hour he spent staring at it and salivating ... So the good Velasquez is a bottom man. You heard it here first.

Post-art, we dropped into Fortnum & Mason to (a) check out the sales - rather like an art gallery but with food instead of paint - and (b) have a snack - which turned out to be tea & scones, replete with clotted cream buckets x2. Heaven. As always, and in true Essex Girl fashion, I'd saved a large teaspoon of cream and jam in the buckets to lap up sans scone at the end. But the moment I'd got rid of the bun, the waitress made a foolhardy attempt to whisk my plate away. I fought bravely to retain my clotted cream orgasm rights and, after a brief tussle, I won. Lord H said the look on my face as my plate was almost removed was Munch-like in its expression of raw terror. Hell, I got the cream though. Ha!

And so, home. Tonight, I need to make a token cleaning gesture and then slump in front of the TV again. Hey, it's good to have an exercise plan.

Today's nice things:

1. Velasquez
2. Clotted cream
3. An evening in.

Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk