Tuesday, 4 December 2018

A cautionary tale

I buy a lot of things on line, and frequently send them back. This is not least because I am (as wonderful Chris, who runs a lovely gift shop in Devizes, and is incredibly helpful, says)  “trying to find the perfect present”.  When I receive it, it’s no longer so perfect, so quite often, back it goes.

But there are pitfalls, and this morning I have fallen into  every single one.

1. Forgetting to fill in the form properly; the one that has to go INSDE the parcel.
2. Forgetting to copy the order number from that form onto the return label (which is now inside the parcel).
3. Forgetting to include the form at all. Having packed everything else up, and congratulated myself on doing it so well, I look round, only to see the form still sitting smugly OUTSIDE the parcel.
4. Wondering whether I’ve filled in the form properly after all. This involves opening up the parcel again, just to make sure.

I had to reopen one parcel FOUR times this morning.....I’m still wondering whether I got it right 🤔

(And before anyone tells me that I should buy from proper shops, I do whenever I can.)

Monday, 3 December 2018

A small boast...

I hate people who boast, but today, I’m going to do it myself (I rarely have cause, so don’t worry; it won’t happen often). My novel Ruth Robinson’s Year of Miracles has been overall no. 71 in Australian Amazon kindle sales, and no.1 in all three of its categories.

That’s all. 😀

Wednesday, 28 November 2018

Visit to a medium

Last week, my daughter  visited a fairly prestigious medium. She wanted some answers, and she also wanted to hear from her father.

I know, I know. It’s not an especially wise thing to do, and I wouldn’t do it myself, but I have to confess to being quite excited to think that she might hear from my late husband (a close friend of hers had visited the same man about her sister, who’d died of cancer, and she was much comforted by what he said).

Anyway, the meeting was not a success. Part of it went a bit like this:
Medium: I think your mum is very anxious about Christmas, and where she’s going  to go.
Daughter: no.
Medium: I’m getting a William  - he’s a William - or perhaps a Bill? Does that mean anything to you?
Daughter: no
Medium: there’s a Sanders, or possibly Sanderson. Did you know anyone with that name?
Daughter: no.
Medium: when you were a child, did your father bring you back a teddy, or perhaps a doll?
Daughter: no.

This man aso told her that she and I were going to “cross swords” within the next fortnight. Well, we have never, ever had a row (well, not since the one occasion when she played knock and run in the village where we lived, and that was a very very long time ago.

We’ve got a week to go before that fortnight  is up, and we’re watching what we say very carefully.

(Btw, her father sent his love, but didn’t want to talk to us. Make of that what you will!)

Saturday, 24 November 2018

My funeral

Travelling to a friend's funeral this week set me thinking.

We haven't seen this friend for a year or two, and yet we travelled to her funeral. It was less than two and a half hours' journey; why had we left it so long? And then I thought of all the other people I love but whom I haven't seen for a while. A couple of days ago,  I was speaking to a close friend I haven't seen for about two years, and we both agreed that we would certainly go to each other's funerals.
So why leave it until then? I have resolved to see more of my friends as soon as possible. While we're all still alive.

 As for my own funeral, I'd like to hold it now. While I'm still around to enjoy it. A kind of pre-funeral; putting the fun back into funerals. Why not? I could even start a business....

Tuesday, 13 November 2018


This music by Mark Blatchly is the very moving piece which St. Paul’s Cathedral Choir used to sing in the Royal Albert Hall on Remembrance Day. My son is the boy on the right in the first row of four, tho it’s hard to recognise him at all, never mind nearly forty years on. I love this piece, and it’s my rather late tribute to the very special day that was last Sunday.

Saturday, 3 November 2018

Gone visiting...

Rosemary Gemmell has very kindly hosted me on her blog this Week. I’m sure you’ve all heard quite enough about me already on my blog, but I’m very grateful to Rosemary for inviting me 🙂

Thank you, Rosemary!

Tuesday, 30 October 2018

”What was the name?”

....said the assistant when I collected my prescription this morning.

This logically would expect me to say:
“Who’s name?”
To which she might say, “your name”. (Ah. That’s better.) And I could go on to tell her:
“Well, the name was Browne with an e. Then it was Garrood. Does that help?”
It wouldn’t. Help, I mean.
And then there was the second question:
“What was the address?”
Logical answer:
“Well, the address was Bleak House, Coppenhall, Stafford.”
And that wouldn’t help, either.

Because my legal name isn’t Garrood any more, and neither do I live in Staffordshire. So why don’t they ask me what my name and address ARE?

That’s all. As the meerkat says: simples.

(I know this is common usage nowadays, but I just want to know why. That’s all.)