Book News:
Untreed Reads is having a massive sale throughout October, so this month is an ideal time to snap up a bargain, or several. As part of that, my literary lesbian short story, A Woman like the Sea, is on sale for 30% discount, as is lesbian paranormal story, The Girl in the Painting, which is also selling at a 30% discount, both direct from the publisher. Hope you enjoy the reads!
The Sunday haiku is:
The quiet grass gleams.
My garden is a haiku,
brief and full of dreams.
Life News:
The great news is that my lovely husband has sorted out the looming disaster of our new dishwasher not fitting into its allocated space by means of swopping it with our slightly smaller washing machine. Pure genius, don't you know. The result is I am now madly in love with the dishwasher and can't begin to imagine how I've survived living here a whole month without one. Ah the joys of technology.
On the same day we were also expecting a delivery of a long ladder so K can get up and look at the roof. We were told it would be delivered by 8pm but actually it arrived at 9pm when I'd given up and was slobbing around in my dressing gown. The delivery man was much amused, as I'm sure the neighbours were when I was prancing round the drive trying to open the garage in my night attire. (Query: why exactly is there a garage in my night attire??...) Really, my dears, I am seriously lowering the tone here in downtown Elstead ...
Speaking of Elstead, we love it. The people are very welcoming and there's a great village-y feel. We also feel spiritually at home as the village Spar shop has three ENORMOUS piles of The Telegraph newspaper and only one small pile of The Mail, whereas in our brief stay in Woking it was always the other way round and we could never get a Telegraph (without which no Saturday is truly complete) for love nor money, no matter how early we ventured out, sigh.
And this weekend has truly been a weekend of delights. The weather has been glorious (ha!) and I do believe the UK is finally experiencing its summer, hurrah. We harvested the first of our vegetable crop and had Swiss chard with our Friday night pizza and garlic bread. Honestly, we're just so proud, never having grown anything we can actually eat before. Or not outside anyway. K also bought a melon at the shops and so weekend breakfasts have involved lolling around in our night wear (really, why bother getting dressed at all?...), eating melon and watching the garden grow. Bliss.
Yesterday, we also invited some of the neighbours and our more local friends round for tea and cake in the afternoon, which was lovely - though it did rather turn into Pimm's and cake due to the soaring temperatures. Nobody complained, however, and we had a great time. Thank you, everyone, for coming.
This morning, we finally - after holiday and my bout of illness - managed to get back to church, which was all very enjoyable, though we still haven't met the actual vicar. The same stand-in man we first met a month ago was there again today, and actually remembered our names and where we live - so give that man a medal. Either that or he couldn't get over the trauma of making our acquaintance last time, hey ho. Poor chap - perhaps he thinks I'm stalking him and will never come back again.
I have also finally, after many months of threatening it, bought a William & Kate Royal Wedding teatowel. I feel fulfilled and am looking forward to using it and giving my glasses (the only things that don't go in the dishwasher) that sheen of royal glamour they so evidently need. I must practise my special wave.
Finally, I must say that Dr Who goes from bad to worse, I fear. Last night's series finale was hammy in the extreme and borderline dull. How I wish they'd ditch the rampant emotionalism and bring back the adventure and sense of excitement. Less kissing (yuk! The Doctor is soooo not meant to be married - it just doesn't work!) and more Daleks - that's what we need.
Anne Brooke
The Thoughtful Corner
ANNE BROOKE BOOKS: Independent writer of modern fiction
Showing posts with label royal wedding. Show all posts
Showing posts with label royal wedding. Show all posts
Sunday, October 02, 2011
Sunday, May 01, 2011
Royal Wedding celebrations et al
Life News:
Well, I must say of course how utterly splendid in every way the Royal Wedding has been. I was up early on Friday and I stayed glued to the TV (apart from very rapid loo breaks ...) from 8am until 2pm. Underneath this prickly and kick-ass exterior beats a heart of marshmallow, my dears, after all. I loved every single moment of it, and I think Kate and William (or Team Cambridge, as we now appear to be calling them) were wonderful throughout. The Middletons came out of it all as the classiest and most elegant family in England and have definitely done their daughter proud on all fronts. Good for them - we middle classes aren't quite as bad as everyone thinks, ha! And at least Mrs Middleton does know how to choose a hat, unlike Posh Beckham who appeared to have a quashed unicorn on her head, and Princess Beatrice who seemed to be wearing a copy of the female reproductive system on hers - or was that a cunning message to the country?... The mind boggles. In fact both Prince Andrew's daughters were dressed by some evil person in clothes more suited to a 70-year-old living in the 1950s - which is a shame as they're such pretty girls. Talking of which, everyone was I think bowled over by Earl Spencer's three daughters - who were giving a good impression of the Three Graces with their very eyecatching blonde beauty and style. Ah, there's trouble ahead there for the Earl, I think ... I also loved the two balcony kisses from Team Cambridge (ahhhh ....) and, earlier on, the wonderful image of the flunkey opening the car door for the Queen and saluting while she ... um ... exited with Prince Philip on the other side of the car. I imagine the flunkey must have been rather startled by her non-appearance, ah well.
Anyway, it was a fantastic day, and just proves that we British are indeed the best in the world when it comes to doing pomp and circumstance with that essential hint of informality and genuine joy. Bliss indeed. I'm already looking for my commemorative teatowel.
K and I have spent the rest of the weekend in a mini-tour of houses & gardens with Royal connections in honour of the occasion. Saturday was Polesdon Lacey (where the Queen Mother and King George VI spent some of their honeymoon) and Claremont Landscape Garden, which even had a Royal Weddings trail, hurrah. Then today, we've spent a lovely day at Highclere Castle where Downton Abbey was filmed, so there's TV royalty there, I'm sure. It was great fun walking round the castle (which has 50 bedrooms, but thankfully there's a whole floor not open so you don't have to take sandwiches to keep up your strength) and seeing where parts of the series were filmed. Actually, I didn't recognise any of the rooms as I think I was too focused on the characters and plot while I was watching it. The only part I did recognise was when we were outside and I suddenly realised I was in the scene at the start when Hugh Bonneville is walking up the meadow (um, their garden, I now realise) to the house with that pesky golden labrador (sorry, I really hate dogs, and golden labradors are the worst ...). Then later on we had lunch on the lawn where the last scene of Series One takes place, and K suddenly put his cup down, leaned over towards me across the table and said: I have bad news, darling. We are at war with Germany. A joke which you will only get if you saw the end of the series, I fear ...
After all this excitement, we popped in to Sandham Memorial Chapel, which is tiny, but the walls are covered with some really wonderful and very moving war paintings by Stanley Spencer. I thought they were great and well worth a visit if you're in the area.
Turning to less exalted matters (unfortunately), I must say that the recent Dr Who 2-parter which ended (well, sort of) yesterday has been quite ridiculously bad. K and I felt as if a handful of writers, probably on speed, had thrown together every plot cliche they could possibly think of and decided to see if they could do it at a gallop to boot. No sooner had one Big Reveal been uncovered than we were swept on to the next, and then the next and the next. It had more plot holes than the Grand Canyon and would have been far, far better if they'd concentrated on only two themes instead of dozens. Or, alternatively, made it into a 7-parter (at least!) so the viewer could have an essential breather now and again, and the writers could work on making it hang together. Such a shame ... So I'm hoping tonight's new crime series, Vera, will be much better, even though it wins the TV prize for the worst-named programme so far this year.
Book News:
The Girl in the Painting has a new buy link at Untreed Reads, and I'm also very pleased with my first quarter royalties for 2011, both for my Amber Allure books and for The Bones of Summer, so that's been a nice boost really.
Here's the latest meditation poem:
Meditation 525
Sheerah is a builder
of towns.
She stands strong
in the foundations,
her bright hair
glinting in fiery sun.
She holds one smooth stone
in her hand and lifts it
to the sky,
already seeing houses,
streets and people
in her mind’s true eye.
The Sunday haiku is:
The morning chiffchaff
lilts its rhythmic springtime beat
in our sleeping ears.
Enjoy the rest of the bank holiday weekend!
Anne Brooke
Well, I must say of course how utterly splendid in every way the Royal Wedding has been. I was up early on Friday and I stayed glued to the TV (apart from very rapid loo breaks ...) from 8am until 2pm. Underneath this prickly and kick-ass exterior beats a heart of marshmallow, my dears, after all. I loved every single moment of it, and I think Kate and William (or Team Cambridge, as we now appear to be calling them) were wonderful throughout. The Middletons came out of it all as the classiest and most elegant family in England and have definitely done their daughter proud on all fronts. Good for them - we middle classes aren't quite as bad as everyone thinks, ha! And at least Mrs Middleton does know how to choose a hat, unlike Posh Beckham who appeared to have a quashed unicorn on her head, and Princess Beatrice who seemed to be wearing a copy of the female reproductive system on hers - or was that a cunning message to the country?... The mind boggles. In fact both Prince Andrew's daughters were dressed by some evil person in clothes more suited to a 70-year-old living in the 1950s - which is a shame as they're such pretty girls. Talking of which, everyone was I think bowled over by Earl Spencer's three daughters - who were giving a good impression of the Three Graces with their very eyecatching blonde beauty and style. Ah, there's trouble ahead there for the Earl, I think ... I also loved the two balcony kisses from Team Cambridge (ahhhh ....) and, earlier on, the wonderful image of the flunkey opening the car door for the Queen and saluting while she ... um ... exited with Prince Philip on the other side of the car. I imagine the flunkey must have been rather startled by her non-appearance, ah well.
Anyway, it was a fantastic day, and just proves that we British are indeed the best in the world when it comes to doing pomp and circumstance with that essential hint of informality and genuine joy. Bliss indeed. I'm already looking for my commemorative teatowel.
K and I have spent the rest of the weekend in a mini-tour of houses & gardens with Royal connections in honour of the occasion. Saturday was Polesdon Lacey (where the Queen Mother and King George VI spent some of their honeymoon) and Claremont Landscape Garden, which even had a Royal Weddings trail, hurrah. Then today, we've spent a lovely day at Highclere Castle where Downton Abbey was filmed, so there's TV royalty there, I'm sure. It was great fun walking round the castle (which has 50 bedrooms, but thankfully there's a whole floor not open so you don't have to take sandwiches to keep up your strength) and seeing where parts of the series were filmed. Actually, I didn't recognise any of the rooms as I think I was too focused on the characters and plot while I was watching it. The only part I did recognise was when we were outside and I suddenly realised I was in the scene at the start when Hugh Bonneville is walking up the meadow (um, their garden, I now realise) to the house with that pesky golden labrador (sorry, I really hate dogs, and golden labradors are the worst ...). Then later on we had lunch on the lawn where the last scene of Series One takes place, and K suddenly put his cup down, leaned over towards me across the table and said: I have bad news, darling. We are at war with Germany. A joke which you will only get if you saw the end of the series, I fear ...
After all this excitement, we popped in to Sandham Memorial Chapel, which is tiny, but the walls are covered with some really wonderful and very moving war paintings by Stanley Spencer. I thought they were great and well worth a visit if you're in the area.
Turning to less exalted matters (unfortunately), I must say that the recent Dr Who 2-parter which ended (well, sort of) yesterday has been quite ridiculously bad. K and I felt as if a handful of writers, probably on speed, had thrown together every plot cliche they could possibly think of and decided to see if they could do it at a gallop to boot. No sooner had one Big Reveal been uncovered than we were swept on to the next, and then the next and the next. It had more plot holes than the Grand Canyon and would have been far, far better if they'd concentrated on only two themes instead of dozens. Or, alternatively, made it into a 7-parter (at least!) so the viewer could have an essential breather now and again, and the writers could work on making it hang together. Such a shame ... So I'm hoping tonight's new crime series, Vera, will be much better, even though it wins the TV prize for the worst-named programme so far this year.
Book News:
The Girl in the Painting has a new buy link at Untreed Reads, and I'm also very pleased with my first quarter royalties for 2011, both for my Amber Allure books and for The Bones of Summer, so that's been a nice boost really.
Here's the latest meditation poem:
Meditation 525
Sheerah is a builder
of towns.
She stands strong
in the foundations,
her bright hair
glinting in fiery sun.
She holds one smooth stone
in her hand and lifts it
to the sky,
already seeing houses,
streets and people
in her mind’s true eye.
The Sunday haiku is:
The morning chiffchaff
lilts its rhythmic springtime beat
in our sleeping ears.
Enjoy the rest of the bank holiday weekend!
Anne Brooke
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Meditations, mascara and Royal Weddings
Book News:
Not much news this week on the writing front really. I'm continuing on with my gay erotic short story, For One Night Only, and, with only a couple of scenes left to do, should get the first draft finished over the next few days.
In the meantime, here are some meditation poems:
Meditation 522
So many sons
and not one daughter
which categorically
fails to demonstrate
a vision of life
as it oughta.
Meditation 523
Hushim has no siblings.
He stands alone,
shadowed in the evening light
and waits for the wind
to breathe over his skin
whispering of silence
and all that lies within.
Meditation 524
The Aramean concubine
had no name
but her sons
founded a dynasty
and in that there’s no shame.
Life News:
How a few days changes everything on the house-buying front, sigh. Earlier this week we were rushing round trying to find rental properties to move into as our buyer wanted to move in on the week commencing 16 May. We found a lovely one in Woking on Monday and were all set to give the go-ahead on Tuesday when our solicitor tells us that our tricky middle neighbours have just lost both their buyer and their solicitor all in one swoop. Lord only knows what's really gone on there!... I must admit I couldn't help but laugh but of course that (rather long) moment of schadenfreude has turned round to bite me. Because they no longer have a buyer, all our own flat transfer documents etc etc have to be redone with the nasty middle neighbours' details on it rather than the new middle neighbour (as really should have happened in the first place, but they would insist ...) - and of course now we have no legal hold over them with our possession of their transfer document, then they have no real reason why they should agree to our sale at all. Deep groan. We're waiting for our solicitor to let us know what (if any) response she gets when she writes to the middle neighbours, but I strongly suspect we're going nowhere on the week commencing 16 May, and may well lose our buyer if more delays occur. We also suspect we're possibly moving into a situation where neither of our flats will be able to sell as neither of us will be prepared to sign the necessary documents for the other. Though, on the other hand, it may be that the middle neighbours are so desperate to get rid of us (one can only hope!) that they'll do anything. We'll have to wait and see, eh. Honestly, you couldn't make this up.
In the meantime, and while our purchase of the Woking house goes on - and on and on - we're still viewing other houses, which has led to the point that one of the local estate agents who is apparently in the middle of helping our vendors buy a house has found out we're still looking, and is terribly anxious in case we drop out of our original purchase and therefore he in turn can't sell his house to our vendor. Ha! Really, I have little sympathy and at least it'll put more pressure on that agent to get the vendor out more speedily. Again, one can only hope ... However, if we can't sell our flat (see above ...), money's going to be tight though we can - just - do it, and we may have to think about renting it out instead. At the same time, we'll need to do it up, I suspect, before any lettings agent will take it on, and that takes money, which we'll have to watch etc etc. Goodness, what fun 2011 is turning out to be, hey ho ...
However, it's not all misery and moaning here in the shires - well, not quite anyway. The lettings agents of the flat in Woking we were intending to rent come mid-May is being an absolute star (thank you, Jennifer of Martin & Co) and says this sort of thing happens all the time and if anyone else expresses interest in the flat, she'll let us know. Above and beyond the call of duty, I feel, and very much appreciated. What a nice woman.
Not only that but I've had the whole of this week off as the University is closed until next Tuesday - and really, I've needed the break, and I can well see what bliss retirement is set to be. Dream on, sigh ... Whilst I've been away from work, TV has been good - loads of stuff on about the Royal Wedding which I have been lapping up, my dears, being a big softie at heart, and also I am getting seriously hooked on the zany but occasionally rather moving Campus. I can't bear to miss it now and I do hope there'll be another series. Some of those one-liners are seriously fantastic and the developing relationships are grand. Lovely. Oh, and The Suspicions of Mr Whicher was a top-class factual drama with a very classy main character and if you were unfortunate enough to miss it, do try to catch it online if you can. It's definitely worth it.
Plus, today, I have nipped into Godalming and bought my first lipstick and mascara for a whole four years - so the anti-depressants must indeed be working, Gawd bless 'em. I've even put them on and look somewhat more defined in the mirror than I usually am. Though whether that's a good or a bad thing is anyone's guess.
Finally, tomorrow from 8am I intend to be glued to the Event of the Year and I wish the happy couple, and indeed everyone else celebrating tomorrow, every joy in the occasion. Must rush and dust off my wedding hat ...
Anne Brooke
Not much news this week on the writing front really. I'm continuing on with my gay erotic short story, For One Night Only, and, with only a couple of scenes left to do, should get the first draft finished over the next few days.
In the meantime, here are some meditation poems:
Meditation 522
So many sons
and not one daughter
which categorically
fails to demonstrate
a vision of life
as it oughta.
Meditation 523
Hushim has no siblings.
He stands alone,
shadowed in the evening light
and waits for the wind
to breathe over his skin
whispering of silence
and all that lies within.
Meditation 524
The Aramean concubine
had no name
but her sons
founded a dynasty
and in that there’s no shame.
Life News:
How a few days changes everything on the house-buying front, sigh. Earlier this week we were rushing round trying to find rental properties to move into as our buyer wanted to move in on the week commencing 16 May. We found a lovely one in Woking on Monday and were all set to give the go-ahead on Tuesday when our solicitor tells us that our tricky middle neighbours have just lost both their buyer and their solicitor all in one swoop. Lord only knows what's really gone on there!... I must admit I couldn't help but laugh but of course that (rather long) moment of schadenfreude has turned round to bite me. Because they no longer have a buyer, all our own flat transfer documents etc etc have to be redone with the nasty middle neighbours' details on it rather than the new middle neighbour (as really should have happened in the first place, but they would insist ...) - and of course now we have no legal hold over them with our possession of their transfer document, then they have no real reason why they should agree to our sale at all. Deep groan. We're waiting for our solicitor to let us know what (if any) response she gets when she writes to the middle neighbours, but I strongly suspect we're going nowhere on the week commencing 16 May, and may well lose our buyer if more delays occur. We also suspect we're possibly moving into a situation where neither of our flats will be able to sell as neither of us will be prepared to sign the necessary documents for the other. Though, on the other hand, it may be that the middle neighbours are so desperate to get rid of us (one can only hope!) that they'll do anything. We'll have to wait and see, eh. Honestly, you couldn't make this up.
In the meantime, and while our purchase of the Woking house goes on - and on and on - we're still viewing other houses, which has led to the point that one of the local estate agents who is apparently in the middle of helping our vendors buy a house has found out we're still looking, and is terribly anxious in case we drop out of our original purchase and therefore he in turn can't sell his house to our vendor. Ha! Really, I have little sympathy and at least it'll put more pressure on that agent to get the vendor out more speedily. Again, one can only hope ... However, if we can't sell our flat (see above ...), money's going to be tight though we can - just - do it, and we may have to think about renting it out instead. At the same time, we'll need to do it up, I suspect, before any lettings agent will take it on, and that takes money, which we'll have to watch etc etc. Goodness, what fun 2011 is turning out to be, hey ho ...
However, it's not all misery and moaning here in the shires - well, not quite anyway. The lettings agents of the flat in Woking we were intending to rent come mid-May is being an absolute star (thank you, Jennifer of Martin & Co) and says this sort of thing happens all the time and if anyone else expresses interest in the flat, she'll let us know. Above and beyond the call of duty, I feel, and very much appreciated. What a nice woman.
Not only that but I've had the whole of this week off as the University is closed until next Tuesday - and really, I've needed the break, and I can well see what bliss retirement is set to be. Dream on, sigh ... Whilst I've been away from work, TV has been good - loads of stuff on about the Royal Wedding which I have been lapping up, my dears, being a big softie at heart, and also I am getting seriously hooked on the zany but occasionally rather moving Campus. I can't bear to miss it now and I do hope there'll be another series. Some of those one-liners are seriously fantastic and the developing relationships are grand. Lovely. Oh, and The Suspicions of Mr Whicher was a top-class factual drama with a very classy main character and if you were unfortunate enough to miss it, do try to catch it online if you can. It's definitely worth it.
Plus, today, I have nipped into Godalming and bought my first lipstick and mascara for a whole four years - so the anti-depressants must indeed be working, Gawd bless 'em. I've even put them on and look somewhat more defined in the mirror than I usually am. Though whether that's a good or a bad thing is anyone's guess.
Finally, tomorrow from 8am I intend to be glued to the Event of the Year and I wish the happy couple, and indeed everyone else celebrating tomorrow, every joy in the occasion. Must rush and dust off my wedding hat ...
Anne Brooke
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