tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64085793957521567802024-03-13T10:03:37.098+00:00Flowerpot DaysFlowerpot is a freelance journalist, author and walker who lives in Cornwall. My first book of walks, Discover Cornwall, was published by Sigma Press July 2012. Circular Walks with Cornish Writers was published in August 2015 and Walks in the Footsteps of Poldark was published in July 2016.Flowerpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14102679179201725732noreply@blogger.comBlogger977125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6408579395752156780.post-81886114997956213652023-12-07T13:59:00.005+00:002023-12-07T13:59:45.631+00:00Launch, Landlady Hat and Lainy to the vet....<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHm8DopApNnqsRzB_OFy6LEmKV64BD2i_Z7gYgTvwrc7SoMbBSewsm0_OxXbdEvFJHF9qkzkvEw_kYvv721DT4EeDfidAq8seUuYggLaSgL7hNaLbuHAWOFrwDYyZhvjlypbAXj9eSj6xtpf8M0dK-KHpeRsMYMTpQAefoAZViDRjO_vAh96SbYXjK2vk/s4032/A6D377B3-6A9F-43E7-8B00-19C0E325BFB5.heic" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHm8DopApNnqsRzB_OFy6LEmKV64BD2i_Z7gYgTvwrc7SoMbBSewsm0_OxXbdEvFJHF9qkzkvEw_kYvv721DT4EeDfidAq8seUuYggLaSgL7hNaLbuHAWOFrwDYyZhvjlypbAXj9eSj6xtpf8M0dK-KHpeRsMYMTpQAefoAZViDRjO_vAh96SbYXjK2vk/s400/A6D377B3-6A9F-43E7-8B00-19C0E325BFB5.heic"/></a></div>
Apologies for a long blog absence, but I know most people follow me on social media, so please do that if you’re wondering what I’m up to!<br><br>
But for those of you who haven’t heard, the launch of Lainy’s Tale was great, though this year I was a lot more nervous than I usually am. Knotted stomach, fatigue, that sort of thing though there was a lot to organise and obviously when you self publish, the onus is all on you, the writer, rather than having a publisher or agent to spread the load.<br><br>
However, it was my SEVENTH book launch, I realised, so I should be an old hand at it by now. The Princess Pavilion in Falmouth is a great venue; there’s a bar, it’s dog friendly, there’s plenty of parking and everyone could sit down, which is a bonus after a certain age, and friends from the Ukulele Orchestra of Constantine played in the background for us. Everyone agreed it was a fabulous venue and a lovely atmosphere.<br><br>
Since then, I have been sending off books, checking Amazon sales, sending press releases, taking books to various local shops and wishing I had enough time to write.<br><br>
Soon that will happen as my editor and I are having a Zoom tomorrow about my next book, Hunger. I knew it was much too long but couldn’t see what was wrong and she has some radical ideas. I think she’s absolutely right but it will mean a lot of rewriting… and a second and third book out of it all. As I said to M the other day, “At this rate, I know the books I’m going to be writing up till I’m nearly 70!”<br><br>
He looked at me and smiled, said, “you’re fortunate to have guaranteed employment.’<br><br>
“Well,” I pointed out, “I do employ myself..…”<br><br>
In other news, I have my landlady’s hat on so am ordering cooker, new front door, new carpets and underlay together with a new paint job on the top flat ready for the incoming tenant in two weeks time - no pressure there, then…<br><br>
Also, Lainy has to go back to the vet for her booster. Three weeks ago she would NOT let the vet anywhere near her, despite us sitting on the floor with treats for half an hour. This time Lainy has had anti-anxiety medication (which so far shows no sign of working), I have a pot of chicken which solves most dogs’ problems, and taking a friend to feed chicken to Lainy in case I have to give her the injection. (I believe in having PLan B.) <br><br>
Wish me luck….(This picture was taken a few days ago...)<br><br>
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I hadn't realised it was so long since I've written a blog post, but life has been exceptionally busy what with final edits of Lainy's Tale, typesetting and last minute edits, and all the admin that goes with that and organising the launch of Lainy's Tale, which will be on 22 November at the Princess Pavilion in Falmouth from 6-7.30pm. <br><br>
I receive printed copies of the book tomorrow so that's well in time for the launch, but not in time for the Falmouth Fringe Festival which took place in Falmouth last weekend. It was run by the Writers Collective and sponsored by Hermitage Press and St Austell Breweries and a huge amount of work was put in by Sam Stone, who was there overseeing it all - so a huge thank you to her and the sponsors.<br><br>
Due to having Lainy at home, and Twig when my partner arrived with her - it's not good to leave dogs for more than 3-4 hours - I wasn't able to attend many other talks, but I interviewed Jane McParkes about her cosy crime A Deadly Inheritance, and she interviewed me about The Rescue and Lainy's Tale and both events went down very well - we all laughed a lot which is always a good sign, and we had full house for both.<br><br>
It was a real joy to meet other authors such as Jane, Roz Watkis, Kate Ryder, Paula Rooney, Liz Fenwick and others and I'm only sorry I couldn't attend more talks. Next year, maybe.... But a big thanks to everyone who came and I hope they all enjoyed it as much as we did.<br><br>
And now it's back to more admin for Lainy's Tale, marketing and edits for Hunger.<br><br>
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Flowerpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14102679179201725732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6408579395752156780.post-76814463978779348402023-08-24T10:28:00.003+01:002023-08-24T10:28:09.394+01:00Love is a many shaped thing <div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWrvvrwdEbw2gPRrx9IQdcqzLb2BQ90gEjLtFv156d0_OEAat0AEYTw-y5dC6kRAL2XbMzhLfbI-NCBLTlWzn1J64VFbJlfVIAS6tX3Q0aj22zkgaLfRyez-kUefBGUEKp3Ly0N8fNlqYKlc6Zgf1bcIL8S2ZeVF4rRvKCQBTO_Gd7lD7qrlWBm_FT4jo/s4032/188DB7A5-AAE3-4B1A-B189-16F27F2BE270.heic" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="400" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWrvvrwdEbw2gPRrx9IQdcqzLb2BQ90gEjLtFv156d0_OEAat0AEYTw-y5dC6kRAL2XbMzhLfbI-NCBLTlWzn1J64VFbJlfVIAS6tX3Q0aj22zkgaLfRyez-kUefBGUEKp3Ly0N8fNlqYKlc6Zgf1bcIL8S2ZeVF4rRvKCQBTO_Gd7lD7qrlWBm_FT4jo/s400/188DB7A5-AAE3-4B1A-B189-16F27F2BE270.heic"/></a></div>
It always interests me, the fact that "Romance" is so often derided and sneered at, looked down upon as a genre of film/boook/play, when we all need to love and be loved. Furthermore, it is one of the most powerful emotions we have. People have been shot, hanged drawn and quartered (look at Henry VIII's wives), drowned, driven mad (Gaslight) and many other tortuous ways of ending a person's life when the other party involved thinks that it's over or love is unrequited, been cheated on, etc. <br><br>
But enough of the gruesome stuff. There's enough of that going on in the world and I for one need cheering up. So I thought I'd look at the ways in which I, and my protagonists, experience(d) love. <br><br>
First of all there was Pip. He was an interesting mixture - a solo adventurer, always lived on his own, always sailed on his own, until he met me when he was 56. Suddenly he decided he was going to share the rest of his life with me. Luckily I felt the same, though while he did, I didn't, hence my novel The Rescue. <br><br>
He was a very brave man but also incredibly kind and thoughtful. Men admired him for his mad adventures, and his ability to tell a good story in the pub about them. Women liked him because he was charming in the best sense of the word. And having fallen in love, he wanted everyone to know it. He saw nothing unmanly in telling everyone about me, and would often say, "I love you this much," spreading out his arms. To which I would reply, "but I love you this much," spreading them even further - and on we would go.<br><br>
I appreciate that few men are like that, but there are many ways to say I love you without actually speaking. I have so many pairs of earrings that say those very words. Meals and dresses, pairs of jeans and books.<br><br>
But there are also those looks that say more than words ever could. Those tight, tight hugs. The kind gestures. Thoughtful statements. Meals prepared. Holiday paid for. Donation towards a secondhand car. Shower fitted. A hand holding mine at night. <br><br>
Love is such a precious thing, and should never be derided in any form. We all express it in different ways, but every way is special.<br><br>
www.suekittow.com <br><br>
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I am lucky enough to have been one of the 46% of anorexics who have recovered. 33% partially recover, and 20% develop chronic anorexica, although these are statistics that I would take with a large pinch of salt. For anyone who is anorexic, or is caring for someone with the disease, I would urge you to read Hadley Freeman's excellent account of her own journey, Good Girls: A Story and Study of Anorexia.<br><br>
So much of it rang true for me, and I realised a lot about my behaviour, even now. It's taken me many years to be able to eat in a restaurant (and I still often panic when trying to choose what to eat). I find it difficult eating with friends, though my circle of Friends I can Eat With is growing now, I'm glad to say. There are so many things that stood out for me, and this book has given me a greater understanding of my fears and insecurities. So I would urge anyone - maybe everyone - to read this book.<br><br>
I ordered it from the library in part out of curiosity and in part as research for my novel HUNGER which will be out next year. I wanted to write about what it must be like as the mother of an anorexic (god forbid) but also the daughter, so we have Jess's diaries, written to her dead father. I wanted to give some insight into what this baffling and terrifying illness is like, and to give hope that there is life after anorexia. It was tough to write, but I hope it will be worth it. (There is also a love affair and plenty of dogs, by the way, so it's not all doom and gloom.) <br><br>
I've also come across Hope Virgo, another recovering anorexic, who is behind the BAN THE SCALES campaign and is visiting Number Ten and having talks with other government departments as well as BEAT, the eating disorder charity, to try and make sure there is more help available. At present, if you have an eating disorder and need counselling or any in-patient treatment, there just aren't the beds available, and people are dying.<br><br>
So this might be a depressing topic, but it's one I feel very strongly about, and I believe that the more people know about eating disorders, the more understanding there can be, and more help for those that really need it.<br><br>
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Flowerpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14102679179201725732noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6408579395752156780.post-85341124334574992902023-06-22T10:32:00.000+01:002023-06-22T10:33:00.611+01:00Balancing Act<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9hzDsIuqopxnwG0aeq299NKsPIvI5KukUbfK1Ev71eUyTM-kCvogDELJILK8clCtyWK2taOIvluPsNMfUhLANtjtZcPSXGk0WQrB-Vc4Wr4dleOkiArxjLJkF9HOmMzwxS1Qiqp2ndo1UoyIwGReBhZDsD7Gbx8HcKzyu79BBPRFLX6WMTgxINX4zKcY/s4032/02D702D4-C574-49EB-AB78-8BD11DDC0DD0.heic" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9hzDsIuqopxnwG0aeq299NKsPIvI5KukUbfK1Ev71eUyTM-kCvogDELJILK8clCtyWK2taOIvluPsNMfUhLANtjtZcPSXGk0WQrB-Vc4Wr4dleOkiArxjLJkF9HOmMzwxS1Qiqp2ndo1UoyIwGReBhZDsD7Gbx8HcKzyu79BBPRFLX6WMTgxINX4zKcY/s400/02D702D4-C574-49EB-AB78-8BD11DDC0DD0.heic"/></a></div>
Life is often a balancing act, I find. Trying to keep a good work/life balance or just good life balance can be really hard. And there are always those times when life tips me over, and I wobble on the tightrope, trying very hard not to fall off. I do, sometimes, and it can take a while to get back on again. <br><br>
Bonnie Garmus, author of Lessons in Chemistry, gave a very good talk at the Poly in Falmouth a few weeks ago, and she said she found humour was a good way to add lightness to those dark moments in her book. (I find humour a lifesaver - where would we be without seeing the ridiculous in life?) Of course we need balance in our books, too. I wouldn't want to read a book where it was all gore and guts, or where nothing ever happened, or the characters were too black or white. And she achieves an excellent balance of underlining the importance of women being treated equally, celebrating women's excellence as well as their frailties, and wrapping it all up with some really engaging charcters, one of which was the dog, Six Thirty. <br><br>
As a dog lover, and one who writes from a dog's point of view, it was gratifying to see how many of the audience adored Six Thirty - and if you did, there's a chance that you will LOVE Moll and Lainy in The Rescue and Lainy's Tail....<br><br>
Elizabeth, the protagonist in Lessons in Chemistry was short on friends at the beginning of the book, but made her own "family" out of her select friends. And this made me think, as I often do, how vitally important friends are. My friends are my support network, and I value them all so much, so I hate if ever there’s been a misunderstanding, which there has been recently. Hopefully, we can restore that balance before too long. <br><br>
On another writerly note, I went to the launch of The Red House by Roz Watkins last night, and what an amazing evening - as well as a Red House cake…!! It was lovely to meet some new writing friends and celebrate Roz’s new book in style.<br><br>
So here’s to life balance, good friends and good books…<br><br>
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One of the lovely bonuses of being an author is meeting readers, and other writers. <br><br>
This morning I had a text from someone I met through our blogs. She lives in Penryn and is a very talented gardener, and wanted to buy a copy of The Rescue, so I said I'd drop one round as I sing in Penryn on a Thursday morning.<br><br>
And what a fabulous time I had. Her oldest daughter is an avid reader and writer, and sat and scribbled with quiet determination while we had tea sitting in the garden. Having talked a lot about books and writing, we turned to gardens, something I've come to late in life, but I find it a really lovely antidote to sitting in front of a computer. <br><br>
It's different from walking, which is about being in nature, but sometimes exploring, often with friends, always with Lainy. But growing stuff is almost meditative, I find, and I can see why my dad got so much pleasure from growing all our veg as well as loads of plants. At the moment The Fella and I are growing spuds, onions and carrots. The former two look good, the carrots haven't deigned to make an appearance. I've also planted broad beans which are, touch wood, looking quite healthy. The perpetual spinach isn't looking very perpetual at all, however, and the rhubarb disappeared without trace.<br><br>
It was fascinating having a guided tour round Lou's garden - she knows so much - and I left with several Californian poppy seedlings. I then got home and Mel gave me some sunflower seedlings, so I've had a happy half hour potting them all up and feel content in the sunshine.<br><br>
Now it's back to editing....but as I start again at Chapter 11, I am thinking how lucky us writers are to meet other readers, and writers in the making. <br><br>
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(I can't take credit for this photo as it was taken by a friend, but it was taken in Falmouth, so I'm sure he won't mind me using it.)<br><br>
The trouble with high expectations is that they are not always met. And, of course, the higher they are, the more unlikely they're met.<br><br>
Take a successful first book/album/poem/photograph/tennis match* (*fill in with whatever you will). Having a huge success earlier on can be crippling, for how can anyone live up to phenomenal success like that? It's a huge pressure, and enough to kill any creative instinct.<br><br>
Similarly, but looking at it from the recipient's point of view, if you've read a lot of brilliant reviews/seen trailers/read comments online, the chances are you will have formed an opinion or expectations of what you're about to see/read/whatever. This has happened to me several times recently, with books that I'd really been looking forward to. In several cases, I really enjoyed the writers' previous books and was looking forward to getting stuck in. Opened the book and after a few pages, I wondered if I was reading the one which had been the topic of so much hype and enthusiasm. I checked. I was. So it must be me. What was I not getting? Perhaps it would get better after a few chapters? And so on.<br><br>
Last night we went to see the film of Harold Fry. I loved both Rachel Joyce's books in this series and will watch anything with Jim Broadbent and Penelope Wilton in, so I knew I would love it. Admittedly the seats were uncomfortable, and it was cold in the cinema, so rather than losing myself in the story, which I'd been looking forward to, weeping copiously as normal, I shifted from side to side. Put my coat back on. Wondered what the time was. Whether I should nip to the loo now or later? You get the picture (sorry, terrible pun). And while I enjoyed the film I wasn't knocked over sideways as I'd expected. <br><br>
Now a lot of it might be one of those phases I'm going through where I struggle to really get lost in a book. Actually no, I've just finished "Lessons from Lucy" by Dave Barry which I think should be compulsory reading for anyone over 50. Brilliant and wise and so funny. But I digress. A friend told me, several years ago, "Hope but never expect" which is very wise but can also be difficult. <br><br>
So maybe the motto of this post is - Don't believe everything you read online (of course). But also, maybe, look out the lesser known writers/films/artists. (I've recently bought a few prints from lesser known artists and love them.) They are often just as good if not better. And you can have the added satisfaction of being the one to bring their work to a wider audience.....<br><br>
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Flowerpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14102679179201725732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6408579395752156780.post-16637244588491406212023-04-11T11:15:00.013+01:002023-04-11T11:18:27.137+01:00HUNGER - don't be fooled by this picture<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbzxRFOQIq8-74F_TeUR3AKMwIdigzsxYAOVnbmb8ncYK8NMcrqMN0wCp97dFhB_Sf-26_AcJeMKd3rWiZTgd9SQKpNQby3E3MqUrnj9f-Q_vw7s_RcJD8R_9etVfp2M90ZGA8hzDok0-tjc8cQIN40kI50kO_U-6Rs4ZR0tflcb1tuziFcdRTZdC1/s4032/21CE6ADA-0E26-4316-A269-196ABD1E8AEF.heic" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbzxRFOQIq8-74F_TeUR3AKMwIdigzsxYAOVnbmb8ncYK8NMcrqMN0wCp97dFhB_Sf-26_AcJeMKd3rWiZTgd9SQKpNQby3E3MqUrnj9f-Q_vw7s_RcJD8R_9etVfp2M90ZGA8hzDok0-tjc8cQIN40kI50kO_U-6Rs4ZR0tflcb1tuziFcdRTZdC1/s400/21CE6ADA-0E26-4316-A269-196ABD1E8AEF.heic"/></a></div>
A QUICK ASIDE - LULU I've emailed you about buying a copy of The Rescue but am not able to contact you via your blog for some strange reason. Please let me know how to get a copy to you! Best way is to email me - flower.pot@btinternet.com.
Over Easter, I read a brilliant interview in The Times magazine with @HadleyFreeman about her experiences with anorexia. Her book, Good Girls: A Story and Study of Anorexia - Perfectionist girls who starve, is out this week and she is doing a lot of work to publicise it. As you do. Regular readers of mine know that I had years of anorexia, thankfully many moons ago, but reading extracts from her book brought it all flooding back. And she does write incredibly well. <br><br>
I don't think enough has been written about the horrors of anorexia, from a personal point of view. It is such a terrifing illness, for the sufferers as well as their nearest and dearest. I found some letters from a boyfriend when I was 18, writing to me when I was back in hospital for the umpteenth time, and it really got me thinking. Several years ago, before The Rescue story kicked off, I wrote a novel called HUNGER, as I wanted to write about my experiences from a mother's perspective (how my poor mum coped, I cannot think) but also from the daughter's. <br><br>
I mentioned this book to my editor some time ago and she was very keen to have a look at it. I think it's time HUNGER makes its way out into the world soon....<br><br>
Meanwhile, back to normal life... My Easter felt a bit like the above picture. I'd sent the rough-ish draft of Lainy's Tail to my editor to see what she thinks and as soon as I did it I felt a) exhausted and b) curiously adrift. Having four days of Bank Holidays made the whole sensation feel more otherworldly, compounded by the fact that The Fella was away with his rugger mates and one of my best friends was due back but didn't make it.<br><br>
So I rested a lot, slept a lot, read a lot and walked a lot. No chocolate in my house, because chocolate makes me very hyper, makes my brain spin and I can't sleep. So frankly it's not worth it. Also of course, I have Lainy who is hyper enough without any chocolate and it's not good for dogs either.<br><br>
So I'm glad to be back at my desk, though the break did me good. I'm waiting, with baited breath, to hear what changes my editor suggests, and itching to get on with them.<br><br>
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Flowerpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14102679179201725732noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6408579395752156780.post-21938792155117015172023-03-29T10:00:00.002+01:002023-03-29T10:03:00.118+01:00Paul O'Grady, friend to all dogs, especially rescues<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7K_-mvej8Xzj1umHh-jjjahvWpv6lSC7v2ZiiTwkhuPO832aqMUmnHG6ehBRjU0eq0M3qodbI2SU-MGL1WrnKtDiyPhg2kzVRiBU9OlK2OgD7UFYWhY96unuggnyu88Dg7VOohq649E2CzFDhcq73TuBESAXCfZ_a1_E8dMnwplIayKrBtQAueb7V/s680/28456C35-1746-458D-90A7-9D7ED690BDD6.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="680" data-original-width="680" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7K_-mvej8Xzj1umHh-jjjahvWpv6lSC7v2ZiiTwkhuPO832aqMUmnHG6ehBRjU0eq0M3qodbI2SU-MGL1WrnKtDiyPhg2kzVRiBU9OlK2OgD7UFYWhY96unuggnyu88Dg7VOohq649E2CzFDhcq73TuBESAXCfZ_a1_E8dMnwplIayKrBtQAueb7V/s400/28456C35-1746-458D-90A7-9D7ED690BDD6.jpeg"/></a></div>
Image courtesy of Battersea Dogs Home<br><br>
I woke in the middle of the night and turned on the radio, as I do when I'm sleeping at home (ie not with the Fella) to hear of Paul O'Grady's death. I stirred sleepily, thinking, What? But yes, he died very suddenly, yesterday. I was listening to BBC Five Live overnight show and was struck by how the callers who rang in to pay tribute were of such different ages - an 80 year old who praised his humanity. Several young men, mostly Liverpudlians, who were so proud of him being a Liverpool Man. A young woman who said he reminded her of her nan and the precious times she spent watching him on telly with her. So many different age groups who all had something really wonderful to say about him.<br><br>
I often listened to his Radio Two show on a Sunday afternoon when driving back from a walk somewhere, and feel that I've lost a personal friend. He spoke to his listeners without pretence, no ego, but snippets of his life, his dogs and his colleague Malcolm, who I'm sure will miss working with him so much. <br><br>
But for all his work, he was such an ambassador (a much vaunted word, but true in this case) for rescue dogs and cats. I've had rescue cats all my life, and now, as many of you know, I have Lainy, my Romanian rescue. He apparently fell in love with all of the dogs at Battersea Dogs Home and ended up giving many of them a home over the years, to add to his menagerie. But apparently it was the work he did behind the scenes, not in front of the camera, that was so impressive. Battersea must be devastated, not just because he was such a high profile patron, but because he helped so many other people realise the importance of giving these animals a home, rather than buying a puppy or kitten.<br><br>
The world has lost a truly special person and I'mn sure all the animals he has saved with hold him in their hearts forever more. I know us mere mortals will. So here's a thank you from Lainy, on behalf of all the other four legged friends.<br><br>
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I have very few memories of my childhood, but one of them was standing in the road not far from our house, and refusing to move until I’d spelt out ‘Coombeinteignhead’ which is difficult enough to spell at the best of times, let alone when you’re learning to read. However, after that tricky start, anything else was easy, and once I discovered the delight of books, I could hardly contain myself.<br><br>
I was always an active child, spending much time outside running and playing games, then as I grew older I learned to swim, did gym and ballet, both of which I adored and was good at. So I was by no means a solitary bookworm, but books held a huge fascination from me when I was forced indoors.<br><br>
The library was the next delight, especially when I found I could borrow 4 - or was it 6 - books at a time. However, I inherited my mother’s ability to speed read, so my books never lasted long, and I can remember protesting when the librarian couldn’t believe that I’d read my quota of books so quickly.<br><br>
Later on, my parents left the little seaside town and moved inland, nearer Totnes in Devon, and there I discovered the wondrous worlds of independent and second hand bookshops, of which there were plenty. The delight of entering a bookshop with a Christmas book voucher, or with pocket money to spend in the second hand bookshop, where Mum worked. One of her regular visitors was Mary Wesley, and I couldn’t believe this great writer would actually enter the shop where my mum worked. Much less reply to a letter I sent her, saying how much I’d enjoyed Harnessing Peacocks…<br><br>
All of these stepping stones make a reader, which in turn can make a writer. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t read, or grab the building blocks to turn me into a writer.<br><br>
So here’s to our libraries, and all our independent bookshops, in particular #falmouthbookseller and #edgeoftheworldbookshop of who now stock The Rescue also available here - https://www.suekittow.com
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Flowerpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14102679179201725732noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6408579395752156780.post-68491492908098901772023-02-21T13:03:00.008+00:002023-02-21T13:06:28.925+00:00Triggers<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXkn-UMLlIs6NX4jpfuFXZ0Xb9MnxfObXdzYc9OdRJYWny0cF62UqrpkGa-pwzuZ9nbeOlISIl4ca_7N7evJAyhrZk-ycWrleC1_jWQk8GNLVp7LTHvxI6soRs8dwq9ZZ1tk-Jel7fliRod0TdlTgFiK8ankqT9S6ZXYPlMujLGJwP2fV2c5Yi39Ds/s3024/0C92B761-BA78-4596-B5D3-2213E87CD787.heic" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="3024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXkn-UMLlIs6NX4jpfuFXZ0Xb9MnxfObXdzYc9OdRJYWny0cF62UqrpkGa-pwzuZ9nbeOlISIl4ca_7N7evJAyhrZk-ycWrleC1_jWQk8GNLVp7LTHvxI6soRs8dwq9ZZ1tk-Jel7fliRod0TdlTgFiK8ankqT9S6ZXYPlMujLGJwP2fV2c5Yi39Ds/s400/0C92B761-BA78-4596-B5D3-2213E87CD787.heic"/></a></div>
I was talking to a friend the other day about Triggers. Not the kind on a gun, though I suppose metaphorically they do the same thing, but the ones that cause us to react in a certain way.<br><br>
We all have them. Certain happenings or events can trigger something in our minds that make us want to run, or hide, or shut ourselves away. Or do all kinds of things - usually negative.<br><br>
Lainy’s triggers are men in hoodies; certain noises (a car running over a plastic lid this morning); anyone getting too close to her face, to name a few. Obviously I can’t ask her what happened, but it’s clear that something very unpleasant is associated with these things.<br><br>
Moll’s triggers were kites or anything with a sail in the sky; rubbish bin lorries; fireworks and me getting up in the night to go to the loo (how dare I disrupt her sleep?).<br><br>
One of mine is Christmas. I have a gallery of things that happened at Christmas over the years - father dying; years of anorexia and horrendous mealtimes; husband dying, and a few others besides. The last two Christmases have been wonderful in their very ordinariness because we did purely what we wanted to do - take the dogs for a lovely long walk, watch a good film, have a nice meal and go to bed. But despite all that, I just have to think of Christmas and all my insecurities come rushing back like overexcited ghosts, shouting ‘Yah! Hate you! No one will ever love you!’<br><br>
I wrote about these in The Rescue for it is something I’ve had to learn to deal with. They’re still there, of course, but having had two happy Christmases has helped a lot. <br><br>
Some people I know are frightened of getting too involved with other people in case they get hurt. Some are the opposite, and can't bear to be on their own. We all have our insecurities and over the years we develop ways of dealing with them. <br><br>
But talking about our fears, or in my case writing about them, can really help not only us but the people who love us. And of course if you read about someone who’s gone through something that you’ve been through too, there’s that moment of recognition. That Ah Hah! Moment. And you might be able to help someone else figure out what to do.<br><br>
A few weeks ago I was asked why I remembered the scene in The Full Monty with the guy wrapped in cling film, trying to lose weight. I thought hard and said, ‘because it shows his vulnerability.’ And only by seeing others’ vulnerability can we learn about them.<br><br>
So isn’t it worth taking a deep breath, opening your mouth and seeing what happens? You may be pleasantly surprised.
The Rescue - out now - https://amzn.to/3Wshi9k
<br><br>
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Flowerpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14102679179201725732noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6408579395752156780.post-8879230143468143422023-02-09T13:21:00.000+00:002023-02-09T13:21:02.243+00:00A Week in the Life of a Writer<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU9OdWQxU-x5b3RJwwgrmCenRZ02W-vPTziwUTBn0kgdt85E_b1-82sSxz4a9Y9fABAN35wOHPJA9KiJVy-C4U-7po9Fy4aoKixAkmdO-m9jP9YHehPBts4iBtgOUBirf7o5uPNu-zdfgFWUsHVUX4z3oIHvFEVjn8dSsfRWqYCCySRwV6WWq3HF2J/s4032/79F13082-3AF1-407A-AE10-1E0F325440FF.heic" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU9OdWQxU-x5b3RJwwgrmCenRZ02W-vPTziwUTBn0kgdt85E_b1-82sSxz4a9Y9fABAN35wOHPJA9KiJVy-C4U-7po9Fy4aoKixAkmdO-m9jP9YHehPBts4iBtgOUBirf7o5uPNu-zdfgFWUsHVUX4z3oIHvFEVjn8dSsfRWqYCCySRwV6WWq3HF2J/s400/79F13082-3AF1-407A-AE10-1E0F325440FF.heic"/></a></div>
Mostly, life as a writer consists of sitting on my backside, writing. Obviously. But sometimes other writerly things have to be done - like selling books. So I thought I'd share with you my life this week.<br><br>
On Monday I had to drop off some books at a local Falmouth shop which we fitted in with a dog walk. I’d managed to write in the morning, so I’d got my fix and was happy that the sequel is making progress. By the way, as I've had several queries about why I wrote The Rescue under S L Rosewarne, I should explain.<br><br>
My mum's maiden name is Rosewarne, and at her memorial service, my only Rosewarne cousin looked at me as I slid into the seat next to her and said, "my goodness, you can tell YOU'RE a Rosewarne!" Pause. "That's a compliment by the way." (The Rosewarnes are small, slim and dark whereas the Kittows are taller and stockier.) And as there are no young Rosewarnes left to carry on the name it seemed a good idea to use Rosewarne for my fiction, but also to differentiate my fiction from non-fiction books.<br><br>
An aside, here, but a relevant one: my sleep pattern is all to pot at the moment. I’ve been worried about several things, but as someone who usually gets about 7-8 hours kip, surviving on 4-5 hours isn’t great. However, a lot of friends have similar problems so we compared notes on how to get a few more hours. Rescue Remedy Night drops? Read? Listen to BBC4 Extra? Read? Get up and have a warm drink? I am becoming expert on BBC Radio 4 Extra schedule from 2-5am...<br><br>
Anyway, after about 5 hours sleep I wasn’t at my best, but on Tuesday I had to pick up my friend Jac from the garage at 9am, go and see some kennels at 9.30 on the way to Penzance, then meet Pip’s cousins there at 11 for coffee. After that, at 12, we went to the Edge of the World bookshop to meet James, the manager, for he wanted to buy some copies of The Rescue. After that we explored a few charity shops, had a coffee sitting outside in the sun at Penlee Gallery - one of my favourite places in Penzance - then had a fabulous new walk over the fields from near Marazion to Perranuthnoe, where the tide was out enough for us to have a good run on the beach. I dropped Jac back in Penryn and drove home where I collapsed on the bed. No way was I able to write that day.<br><br>
Yesterday I was booked to give a talk to Kerrier U3A at Heartlands at 10.30. Plenty of time to get up, eat, shower, walk Lainy etc and get to the destination. Again on not much sleep. I’ve sung at Heartlands, but it was a few years ago, so I was a bit hazy about the last bit of the journey so thought I’d ask Google maps. Unfortunately it decided to send me round in circles so instead of arriving in plenty of time, I arrived flustered and shaking. I then found the venue, opened the door to find a room packed full of people - for my first solo talk in 3 years. Oh my god, I thought, but accepted a decaff coffee and took some deep breaths.<br><br>
And what a lovely audience - warm and attentive (apart from the odd man nodding off) and enthusiastic. I got very emotional at times reading out parts of The Rescue (I blame low blood sugar, low sleep and over-adrenaline). But a lot of them came up afterwards for a chat and to buy books, which made it all worthwhile. I drove home, utterly drained...<br><br>
And today I am back at my desk which is lovely. I’ve written 1500 words and wondering what’s going to happen next, as the synopsis I’d painstakingly drafted bears little resemblance to what I’ve actually written. And I’ve got about 15,000 words to wrap it up in.<br><br>
Below is a glimpse of the most glorious weather on Tuesday for our walk - we were so lucky.<br><br>
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Flowerpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14102679179201725732noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6408579395752156780.post-18064617056814190312023-01-11T11:53:00.000+00:002023-01-11T11:53:13.410+00:00The Rescue finally on Amazon<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOCJtQKR9HnCdsLDF8Lv0r8fpTTFXXGFfEOW-DrIMG_HoiJDvSCZAT1wKarzxfMJWM0l-uMltgKYabIETRXJss2-dLwtDkfvr6reSeWayWDcDwgfB1LsMU73LVDm-g_XWNAs1VJpEyqmVJzV64p9GQRLmR-fZUdPLV1TxW9iuITJ4qBU5740ic7Rl2/s4032/675BE652-5B7C-46B4-AB77-C353CBCA61B5.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="400" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOCJtQKR9HnCdsLDF8Lv0r8fpTTFXXGFfEOW-DrIMG_HoiJDvSCZAT1wKarzxfMJWM0l-uMltgKYabIETRXJss2-dLwtDkfvr6reSeWayWDcDwgfB1LsMU73LVDm-g_XWNAs1VJpEyqmVJzV64p9GQRLmR-fZUdPLV1TxW9iuITJ4qBU5740ic7Rl2/s400/675BE652-5B7C-46B4-AB77-C353CBCA61B5.jpeg"/></a></div>
I'm glad to say that The Rescue will be available from Amazon as Kindle and paperback as from today - or rather, it takes 72 hours for it all to be processed. So by the end of this week - 13th or 14th January - it will be available.<br><br>
January is usually a dreary month, most of us find. The weather's usually wet and windy in Cornwall, so it means getting muddy at least once a day on our dog walks. There's not usually much to look forward to, once Christmas is over, and the days are still short.<br><br>
BUT - now you can settle down with The Rescue, and if you order it from me, you'll get your own The Rescue coaster so you can enjoy your favourite beverage with it. I have to say this was The Fella's idea, not mine, to give credit where it's due.<br><br>
I'm pleased to say that all the reviews I've had so far have been lovely. More than lovely - really heartwarming. So if you do order it from Amazon, and you like it, I'd be very grateful if you could leave me a review. I'm writing the sequel now and have to think of a title for the series - any ideas?<br><br>
Yesterday we went to Poldhu Cafe as the owner is keen to sell my books, but he wasn't there, so we had a rather windswept coffee (we were; the coffee became windswept), then walked along the beach and over to Church Cove which was equally blustery. However, I love this wild weather. I love the wind tearing at my face and hair, hearing the boom and bash of the sea on the rocks. The suck and hiss as the waves claw their way up the beach. Nature is at her most dramatic, and while I'm glad I'm not at sea in it, it's wonderful to watch.<br><br>
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I leave you with a picture from one of the gravestones at Gunwalloe church, on the beach, where I was struck, as I always am, by the beauty and longevity of the cursive script on some of the gravestones. You'd never think it had been carved 150 years ago... <br><br>
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I met up with a friend I hadn't seen for ages yesterday, so we had a lot to catch up on. We were talking about how different people are, and how they love - and we love them - differently, according to their personalities and their past experiences.<br><br>
Anna knew me when Pip died, and was very much there for me. She then had a rescue greyhound called Bill, so understood how very important our four legged loves ones are, particularly when we're feeling wobbly. I remember her telling me about a close friend whose partner had left her, at Christmas, and I felt grateful. For although I was ripped apart when Pip died, I felt secure in the knowledge that he loved me as he did Moll - completely and thoroughly. There were no gaps in his love. And to be that loved is a) very rare and b) gave me a lot of badly needed confidence, for I had evidence of his love, which was a big, all surrounding love.<br><br>
Whereas this poor friend was faced with anger, insecurity, sadness, feeling unloved, rejected, worthless - a real Pandora's Box of emotions, nearly all of which were negative and damaging. So that made me the lucky one.<br><br>
Anna and I were laughing about Pip (she had, like all my friends, been very fond of him). He was, as my mother said, "equally popular and at ease with both sexes". Men were drawn to him because he was brave, had sailed single handedly across the Atlantic in a fishing boat, with no engine or electrics. He liked a drink. He was a born narrator, and held people captive with stories of his adventures. <br><br>
Women liked him because he was charming in a courteous, playful way. He gently teased them but made them feel loved and protected, like me. And they all knew how much he loved me: there was no way he would ever stray. <br><br>
Also unusually, for an adventurous, Alpha type man, he wasn’t afraid to tell everyone who much he loved me. Shortly after we met, he stuck an A4 sheet of paper to one of the telegraph poles leading down to the Pandora. It said simply, “Jacko loves Curls” which, he knew, would get all the locals' tongues wagging - "who is this Curls?". This was just the start of his love missives which continued through the years in my packed lunch box for work, in little cartoons, all over the place.<br><br>
You can read more about Pip and his love - and subsequent loves - in The Rescue, order now on www.suekittow.com. Last courier posting date before Christmas is Monday 19th December, so hurry!<br><br>
It's also available through the Falmouth Bookseller, Rock Paper Scissors at the Chocolate Factory, Mullion and the Terrace Gallery Penryn. More outlets arriving soon.
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Flowerpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14102679179201725732noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6408579395752156780.post-69910095712017459932022-12-07T11:07:00.002+00:002022-12-07T11:07:55.865+00:00The Launch<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ-o7xf2gpbgJLUJVJnlt9qSAEaq8YfA85lnAvg4tkEKTOeWaA9uDVNbiFp-N4JyBZSoj2C9T_RiFJpUXAqb6rmXZOQ35AwcwdawNhCmDGwxxcZwAEaPl0WBTg7sV2CXlpBcAda7Jk24krheh4ltqba2D4Q6wzwGN5-h8KHMb208gHE2QDq7dAa_Vr/s4032/B4127E83-7238-4412-A3DC-4DF9A7E09AD2.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="400" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ-o7xf2gpbgJLUJVJnlt9qSAEaq8YfA85lnAvg4tkEKTOeWaA9uDVNbiFp-N4JyBZSoj2C9T_RiFJpUXAqb6rmXZOQ35AwcwdawNhCmDGwxxcZwAEaPl0WBTg7sV2CXlpBcAda7Jk24krheh4ltqba2D4Q6wzwGN5-h8KHMb208gHE2QDq7dAa_Vr/s400/B4127E83-7238-4412-A3DC-4DF9A7E09AD2.jpeg"/></a></div><br><br>
It's extraordinary to think that this time last week I was rushing up to the Princess Pavilion to take all the books etc up for my launch. It wasn't possible to set up then as the room was in use all day, but having deposited everything in the office, we had a good time wandering around outside in the sunshine seeing all the Christmas trees, each decorated by a different school or organisation. The coffee was good, too!<br><br>
For some reason I was exhausted that day, but had to walk Lainy, then The Fella arrived and we went back to the Pavilion at 4.30pm to set up the books - a friend suggested arranging them in a dog bed which was a great idea. I took some of my walks books as well, and some of my cards, Anne bought me a drink, and at 5pm people starting arriving, and from then on there was a steady stream of people all wanting books, which was wonderful.<br><br>
My dear friend Ali's ukelele band came to play background music, and they were positioned on the small stage at the end of the room, so I opted to sit at a table next to them, which gave me some moral support!<br><br>
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One of the people wanting books was a friend of mine's daughter, who wishes to become a writer, so meeting her was very special - and I hope gives her good luck and inspiration. <br><br>
After about an hour I gave a short reading from the book, and talked to more people, and then it was time to start tidying up and go home, check the dogs, light the fire and eat. It was an exhausting day, but so lovely to see so many friends. I'd been worried that not enough people would turn up, as many said they wouldn't be able to come - but all was well!<br><br>
Now it's on to trying to sell more books, and waiting for people's reactions. That's the really scary part. I mean, I know not everyone will like it but I hope the majority do. I did have a chance meeting with a friend from my book group in Sainsburys on Friday, and she gave me a huge hug and said how much she really loved it, and how much she knew I'd put into it. As she is a very discerning reader, I was so touched and that really made my week. <br><br>
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This morning I was pottering about, half listening to Radio Four as I had breakfast, made another cup of tea, that type of thing, when I heard someone talking about her rescue dog, how he’d helped her during a really difficult period when she’d struggled with burnout from work and her marriage disintegrating which led to depression and lack of sleep. How she'd never been much of a walker, but having to get up every day to walk this poor dog, who was afraid of everything, gave her a purpose. It helped clear her head of the troublesome thoughts that plagued her all the time. She had to focus on the Bosnian rescue dog, who was so terrified of people and other dogs, she had to walk him on a lead, somewhere really quiet. She didn't say how hard this was, but having a very nervy dog myself, I can understand the huge amount of work involved with a dog this frightened. It is not to be underestimated. And when you're feeling terrible yourself - well, hats off to her. I wouldn't have been able to do it.<br><br>
But she is evidently made of tougher stuff. Gradually, she and the dog started looking forward to their walks, and with the help of psychotherapy and managing herself, her sleep and remembering to eat regularly, life wasn't as terrible as it had been. The dog's tail started coming up - a sign that she was happier. After a long while, she was able to let the dog off the lead, and several years on, she’s a different dog. Still cautious and wary, but much happier. More confident. She adopted another foreign Bosnian dog who was as uncomplicated as her first one was complex.<br><br>
She moved from the wilds of Essex to London, to be nearer loved ones, and wondered how they would both cope. Would they long for the quiet fields of Essex? How would the nervous dog cope? Initially she was wary, but after a while she settled down, and is enjoying the acres of roaming that Hampstead Heath provides, embracing the change. Learning to be more sociable.<br><br>
The speaker turned out to be the novelist and journalist, Jo Jo Moyes. She said that maybe she has lessons to learn from her nervous dog. Maybe she does, but I thought, they’re called rescue dogs because we rescue them. But really, as everyone knows who has one, they rescue us.<br><br>
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Flowerpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14102679179201725732noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6408579395752156780.post-2111940238070013432022-11-11T19:14:00.002+00:002022-11-11T19:14:57.455+00:00The Rescue nearly here!<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdNJycPC64xzEe8Lv6pANJA3vTdz1hX01fR3q_EvQMQJ52hcbPHlok_8m03rxmlZa0eIg-X_N3PsEJKUxmX5UqC7PAzHKBs4RDTv1om6fkp2HZHPJ-Okys3ieFBucM5ad9L2Fhr6fL5_Mbux_qbHJqL7KPxFSj3SnM_x30bl4LneHplOW3no0GWwY1/s2339/9495CBD0-08FF-43AB-A29E-7EAEF00F42D3.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="400" data-original-height="2339" data-original-width="1524" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdNJycPC64xzEe8Lv6pANJA3vTdz1hX01fR3q_EvQMQJ52hcbPHlok_8m03rxmlZa0eIg-X_N3PsEJKUxmX5UqC7PAzHKBs4RDTv1om6fkp2HZHPJ-Okys3ieFBucM5ad9L2Fhr6fL5_Mbux_qbHJqL7KPxFSj3SnM_x30bl4LneHplOW3no0GWwY1/s400/9495CBD0-08FF-43AB-A29E-7EAEF00F42D3.jpeg"/></a></div>
This is the cover for The Rescue, designed by the incredibly talented Tammy Barrett. I love it, and that look is pure Moll... It also helps that we both love animals which is a great start to a working relationship that involves dogs. She has also set up my new website www.suekittow.com and done a fantastic job, I think. Particularly the poems section....<br><br>
Life has been dominated by The Rescue and marketing. I did one interview last week and another this week, and a few online ones coming up. Oh, and when not doing that, looking after Lainy, who we thought had recovered, but she had a setback last Sunday when we had rather too long a walk. So that was our fault. On Monday, having gone out for a very short wee walk, she decided she was going back to lie on the sofa all day, apart from the odd dash into the garden. She did the same on Tuesday and of course I was worried, even though she wasn't limping. <br><br>
The Fella just said, "clever girl," (Lainy, not me) which of course was the right attitude, and by Wednesday Lainy seemed fine again. AFter a quick check at the vet (we went for her annual booster), he said gentle walks for the next week as it takes six weeks for a shoulder injury to repair. So we're nearly there....<br><br>
Lastly, because it's late and Friday night and I'm tired, I had a message to say my books will be arriving at the end of next week, so if anyone would like to order, please do so on www.suekittow.com - the first 50 people get free postage. It will be available on Kindle in a few weeks. The launch will be on 30 November at Princess Pavilions in Falmouth from 5-7pm, so all are welcome. Plus friends with four legs and two...<br><br>
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I am, of course, excited but terrified - my editor loves it and so do the friends that have read it, but what about everyone else? What if they hate it, or just don't get it? Gulp.... <br><br>
I gave a talk last Saturday as part of the Penryn Fringe Festival, which took place at the Terrace Gallery. I was interviewed by Pauline Causey, who’s worked for the BBC for 30 years, so I was in safe hands, and she asked me about The Rescue.<br><br>
Actually Pauline’s idea that I should write this book. Shortly after dear Moll departed this life, I had a drink with Pauline and she wanted to know what had happened, and also a bit more about my life with Moll, starting from when Pip was alive.
Life had been quite eventful, and Pauline’s eyes grew wider as I told her what had happened. ‘You have to write about this,’ she breathed, taking a sip of wine.<br><br>
‘I can’t,’ I said, ‘It’s too personal.’<br><br>
‘Well, make it up,’ she said. ‘And Moll should write it.’<br><br>
To be honest, I thought she was bonkers. Then, after a few days of mulling over this idea, I came to the conclusion that she was a genius. Well, she is anyway, but…. How should I write this story, the beginning of which would be true, but make the rest up? And how on earth could I write it from a dog’s point of view?<br><br>
I did a lot of thinking, and observed my new rescue, Lainy. I read a lot about how dogs communicate, and of course the obvious difference is that while we use our eyes and speech, dogs use their noses, which are 100 million times more sensitive than ours. Their hearing, also, is way more effective than ours, but it’s their noses that do the brunt of the work.
Then I had to think how things would smell. For example, dogs must identify their owners by their smell, but what do they smell like? And what does happiness smell like? Illness? Fear? Grief? Joy? Embarrassment? Pauline had just got the new edition of National Geographic which supports the theory that dogs do empathise, grieve and show joy just as we do - well, anyone with a dog knows this, but at least it shows that I’m barking up the right book.
Well, no one knows for sure, other than dogs, of course, so I had to use my imagination. One thing I did know was that Moll was extremely greedy, so food features largely in this book. Ironic, given that I’m not very bothered about food!
I might have got this completely wrong, but after 15 years I knew Moll pretty well. She was opinionated, stubborn, greedy and her love was given very conditionally. But I loved her, and although she wasn’t an affectionate dog, I like to think she loved me, too.
If you’d like to find out, it’s available for pre-order now www.suekittow.com.<br><br>
And also, after three weeks of limping, this is Lainy's fourth day (I hope) of not limping. Fingers crossed she's on the mend!
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Flowerpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14102679179201725732noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6408579395752156780.post-36843992226735221202022-10-19T13:44:00.004+01:002022-10-19T13:44:34.383+01:00More progress but a lame Lainy<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx77VoaMI5jDBpbn6SjFiMTP2hdzMip6TlU4zjSiuLvQyCZWc1FT3uh293sTv9HiymytqymoH_hu5q3uUUbyUzNwavG3FgK85EKOGJ6nXECuLLb0bMZc3zIcsq4tVXBh-_vnc3AW455a3lDTPYbF-ih4-7QUfBFGNLTAQrwLUkXMvK3NryIrYZGSYS/s264/75332200-B004-4A46-884F-4813AF2130DD_4_5005_c.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="264" data-original-width="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx77VoaMI5jDBpbn6SjFiMTP2hdzMip6TlU4zjSiuLvQyCZWc1FT3uh293sTv9HiymytqymoH_hu5q3uUUbyUzNwavG3FgK85EKOGJ6nXECuLLb0bMZc3zIcsq4tVXBh-_vnc3AW455a3lDTPYbF-ih4-7QUfBFGNLTAQrwLUkXMvK3NryIrYZGSYS/s400/75332200-B004-4A46-884F-4813AF2130DD_4_5005_c.jpeg"/></a></div>
The good news is that everything is going ahead with publication of The Rescue. The corrections for the final proof have gone through and then publication should be (fingers crossed) end of October/beginning of November. There's been a huge amount to organise but it looks like it's all coming together, and I'm giving my first talk this weekend as part of Falmouth Book Festival, to publicise it, and arrange pre-orders, then the book launch date will be decided next week. I hope.<br><br>
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This was taken last weekend at Kynance Cove, where we visited with Twig but no Lainy as she is on house arrest. Or at least, rest. <br><br>
Poor girl became lame when we were in North Devon, where we had a much needed break, made more relaxing by not having brilliant weather, and by Jac not feeling wonderful either. We went out every day, but poor Lainy couldn't walk for and we didn't feel like long hikes in the rain, so we had a wonderful week pottering about with some good walks while Lainy was OK and all in all it was a wonderful week.<br><br>
Lainy went to the vet on our return who advised slow sniffy walks on lead for a few days, but for the rest of the week she was absolutely fine, until she ran down a steep hill and by the bottom she was limping but on the other paw. The vet advised 3 x 10 minute walks to make sure she rests, then as she wasn't getting better, we had to go in again. She appears to have damaged her shoulder so she's still on the very short walks per day but actually seems quite happy with that, as it's obviously too sore to walk further. So we have to leave her behind when we walk Twig or when I walk with my friends, and she must wonder why we're leaving without her. However, she appears to bear us no ill feeling, and is as loving and cheery as ever.<br><br>
This has to go on for at least another week (we've done 10 days so far) and then, hopefully, she can begin to extend her exercise, but very gradually, so she doesn't wrench her shoulder again. Poor girl, it's not the same without her.<br><br>
But think of me next Saturday, and if you'd like to come to the talk it's at 5pm at the Terrace Gallery, Penryn this Saturday 22nd October. All are welcome!<br><br>
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Flowerpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14102679179201725732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6408579395752156780.post-81029388244976083432022-09-22T13:36:00.003+01:002022-09-22T13:36:36.655+01:00Progress and a break<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNX3oEfCN14u0AewMbElmTls_HDEKYLAI1D9bXipJOGJ0tz2DBb6X2RnsmFZTbK2Obf0rvu8KxulZEn4JlBVUgOLUWs0LkzcbN2uQeCuL3Xb53oW7CpAgahUE92pxhSbd1aADXl_IhS0J9dQRVzD572KWl7MuTzhNkt_19UVyQvtMVWDUrQOjrREC9/s1024/0D4577D5-47C7-4F92-9722-765B8EA15D0C.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="400" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNX3oEfCN14u0AewMbElmTls_HDEKYLAI1D9bXipJOGJ0tz2DBb6X2RnsmFZTbK2Obf0rvu8KxulZEn4JlBVUgOLUWs0LkzcbN2uQeCuL3Xb53oW7CpAgahUE92pxhSbd1aADXl_IhS0J9dQRVzD572KWl7MuTzhNkt_19UVyQvtMVWDUrQOjrREC9/s400/0D4577D5-47C7-4F92-9722-765B8EA15D0C.jpeg"/></a></div>
The above was taken this week at Idless Woods, where Laurence Reed interviewed me for what will be a very short video to publicise my novel, The Rescue. I have to say, we filmed for an hour and Lainy was absolutely brilliant, and sat or lay beside me as if she'd been born on a film set. Dear girl is six today, so happy birthday Lainy. <br><br>
The video will go on Booktock and other social media platforms, I am informed by my Head of Publicity aka dear friend Pauline. So watch this space!<br><br>
I realise, with horror, that my last post was nearly a month ago, and the days have sped by. Apparently we get less and less daylight at this time of year - we're actually losing about half an hour's daylight a week at the moment. <br><br>
September has been swallowed up finishing very last edits for The Rescue, approving the cover and starting the new website. I hasten to add, I'm not doing any of this but the wonderful Tammy is, and when I have both I will post them. It's incredibly exciting and, as typesetting looms nearer and it's too late to make any changes, I'm becoming increasingly paranoid. <br><br>
What if people don't like my book? Well, there are bound to be some people that don't, but the thought of it is horrifying. Far more so than for my walks books, as novels are so much more personal. Receiving criticism is always difficult, especially so when I did so a few weeks ago from someone whose opinion I value highly. She made a comment and then said, "Has anyone else said this?" I said, with some measure of relief, "No." For while I always listen to what is said, if several people say the same thing, then it's generally worth looking at or changing. If not, then maybe it is, maybe it isn't - that's for me to decide.<br><br>
On Saturday my mate Jac and I are off for a few days to North Devon, where we visited in March, and as it was so gorgeous, we're going back. There's also a pool so we're hoping to get some swimming in, though as it's getting colder, I'm not sure how enthusiastic I'm going to be. She's much braver than me and swims all year round. I like it to be hot before I get cold, if you get my drift.<br><br>
On my return it's all go for a talk for the Falmouth Book Festival at the end of October, then planning the launch party, writing press releases and all that stuff. And all the while I am writing the sequel to The Rescue..... In the meantime, here is the view on the way to singing this morning at Penryn bridge....<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjMbhxQvCoslMBIHxaMIYTc08nkSC1gxl_DDEYx4Y87DcEYS7VXQ8v_J4Nr80Zm2LIvQcfoqi6kAE2kxTUJ-9LQ7-eyyVEelgOCuimZLTB5IpqJ7GSpSxx1ksb59--wwCbdvGEf2SBvrZRhEyzQ8DJAU7pB89-LhV5oOBlkHR2Bm0ppcEUr5uCyzBu/s4032/B882554D-EDE9-4117-8F54-9EDE9E4E10A2.heic" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjMbhxQvCoslMBIHxaMIYTc08nkSC1gxl_DDEYx4Y87DcEYS7VXQ8v_J4Nr80Zm2LIvQcfoqi6kAE2kxTUJ-9LQ7-eyyVEelgOCuimZLTB5IpqJ7GSpSxx1ksb59--wwCbdvGEf2SBvrZRhEyzQ8DJAU7pB89-LhV5oOBlkHR2Bm0ppcEUr5uCyzBu/s400/B882554D-EDE9-4117-8F54-9EDE9E4E10A2.heic"/></a></div>Flowerpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14102679179201725732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6408579395752156780.post-6389825614664063902022-09-01T18:46:00.000+01:002022-09-01T18:46:25.739+01:00Self publishing journey<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbTZ9N3auIEw5cr2lvfdFQTRP6xRcSm2Yt0I9WCURk_z36_bINa3LEySr8isbQxO7i4fT0UVgXmqRWlS4UJGbqsiYEwQoPA3vNiqDCqwxKAqxSWaNLmnzF-eAt0RIDCOhHO7zGJbsYGqDZHh-ZvU1qEKAXzAvtV1J6-0catr5cIWVnZ6-iKSknFupq/s4032/927CDB08-4364-40C7-9AB8-2BC868200E65.heic" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="400" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbTZ9N3auIEw5cr2lvfdFQTRP6xRcSm2Yt0I9WCURk_z36_bINa3LEySr8isbQxO7i4fT0UVgXmqRWlS4UJGbqsiYEwQoPA3vNiqDCqwxKAqxSWaNLmnzF-eAt0RIDCOhHO7zGJbsYGqDZHh-ZvU1qEKAXzAvtV1J6-0catr5cIWVnZ6-iKSknFupq/s400/927CDB08-4364-40C7-9AB8-2BC868200E65.heic"/></a></div>
Apologies for absence. Life seems to have been extremely busy, what with preparing for publication, trying to learn as much as I can about the process which is fascinating but a steep learning curve, and starting the sequel novel.<br><br>
I met with a few other authors recently - Paula Rooney whose book "I hope There's a Kettle in my Room" is a fascinating account of her solo travel round Europe during lockdown, age 55. So for anyone who thinks they're too old to try anything new - try it!<br><br>
Then yesterday I met with Ben Rowswell whose books for children include Cornwall: An Archaeological Adventure and I Spoke to the Sea, both of which are beautifully written and illustrated and a really fun way of learning for any child.<br><br>
Lainy came to both meetings - last week, with Paula, we managed to find a shady bench with a table to sit and chat and have our coffee. Yesterday, Ben and I met in Boscawen Park, which is lovely but incredibly busy with children on scooters or running along, some anxious looking grandparents, overheated parents, and a selection of other dogs. As Lainy's not used to too much close interaction with fast moving people, I had to keep a very close eye on her, but in fact she did brilliantly.<br><br>
It was quite tricky concentrating, writing notes, reading Ben's books and keeping an eye on Lainy, but it was very good training for her, and Ben was very generous with his time and tips.<br><br>
We all believe that business should be about helping each other: sharing contacts and suggestions of where our books might sell - after all, that's what makes the world go round, is it not?<br><br>
We had a beautiful walk up a footpath and into fields and woods, then ended up meeting a friend in Victoria Park the other side of Truro which is a real hidden gem - quiet and shady with a lovely bandstand, a tiny cafe with plenty of water for hot dogs and hot owners alike. That's my idea of a business afternoon!<br><br>
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I wasn’t sure what to expect of this book, which is completely different from Fern’s Cornish based books. This is the story of Marion Crawford, nicknamed Crawfie, who became Princess Elizabeth and Princess Margaret’s governess from when they were very young until Princess Elizabeth married Prince Philip.
Fern has researched her subject thoroughly - check the bibliography at the back of the book - and it is a fascinating part of history that most of us, of a certain age, are familiar with. But there is an added twist to this story - once Crawfie retired, this dutiful woman, who devoted most of her life to the royal family, sold the story of their lives in her book, The Little Princesses.
Trying to keep to the facts as much as possible, but mixing with fiction where necessary, Fern explores why Crawfie might have done this and how the royal family could have instantly banished her, resulting in Crawfie’s isolation and misery.
The other interesting character in all this was Sir Alan ‘Tommy’ Lascelles, who was assistant private secretary to King George V, King Edward VIII, and private secretary to King George VI and Queen Elizabeth II.
He and Crawfie met at least once, and Fern creates a mutual friendship between these two: Marion who always put the royal family first - she even postponed her marriage for over ten years - yet was destroyed by her book. Tommy, on the other hand, was perhaps stronger and certainly wilier and while he had little of Marion’s respect for the family, he survived untouched.
This is an interesting take on a sad, true story, which deserves to be written about. Well done, Fern, for bringing it to our attention.
It’d make a great film…… Watch out The Crown…
And on a personal note, I received the first proofs for my novel cover. I went into a complete tailspin I was so excited, and nervous, because it’s so important to get the cover right. A long talk to the designer later, and we’re both happy. This journey has really started!
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Flowerpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14102679179201725732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6408579395752156780.post-29416464915186573172022-08-01T10:35:00.000+01:002022-08-01T10:35:09.693+01:00Absence<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfS_SMaF51EHSJCDekN1pTfYp-Y9w39W2ogmmYPlVnZC6vyppOS9FiuG2_bOj0ER_w9K3_2toCpS9XujwqkWOhEOAMKZ9t5ZmS71dNAsXKrGj1Yb9w2d3oNQ90dxigocakHQTxL3-_aU1fogCdPfA_kggTeWV97zvj4GvsCPNgeILKJHBlW9r2taSE/s4032/A20699DA-9B84-4568-870D-046F0FA7E77B.heic" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfS_SMaF51EHSJCDekN1pTfYp-Y9w39W2ogmmYPlVnZC6vyppOS9FiuG2_bOj0ER_w9K3_2toCpS9XujwqkWOhEOAMKZ9t5ZmS71dNAsXKrGj1Yb9w2d3oNQ90dxigocakHQTxL3-_aU1fogCdPfA_kggTeWV97zvj4GvsCPNgeILKJHBlW9r2taSE/s400/A20699DA-9B84-4568-870D-046F0FA7E77B.heic"/></a></div>
This was actually taken on our last trip away, at the Treffry viaduct near St Austell, in a valley riddled with wonderful mining heritage. But that's another story for a different day.<br><br>
I set off for the Lizard thinking I'd be away a few days, as usual, but M helped take an elderly neighbour to the dentist, shopping etc on the Monday, and then on Tuesday they very kindly took us to lunch as a thank you. We went to the most southerly cafe at Lizard Point and sat outside, overlooking the sparkling sea, while the sun shone, the food was lovely and a good time was had by all. But by the time we got back it was getting late and we had to walk the dogs, I was knackered and the day whistled away - so much for getting any work done. <br><br>
The next day I felt a bit weird in the morning, as if I was going down with a Lurgy. M looked at me, fed me a crumpet and Lemsip and suggested gently that I should go back to bed for a bit. Two hours later, I'd slept the morning away - and I never do that! I slept for the next two days on and off, in between staggering out to walk Lainy in the graveyard. I would add that this is 5 minutes down the road, and I can let her off, so while feeling rubbish it meant she could chase rabbits for half an hour and I could collapse on the bench provided before taking her back.<br><br>
Having lived on my own for the last twelve years, it was a real joy to be looked after when poorly. Cups of tea and plates of toast arrived at regular intervals, or a little ramekin dish of ice cream. My washing was done. The little, important, things make all the difference when you're feeling rubbish.<br><br>
So I am very grateful to have had such a good nurse. My friends upstairs rang to see how I was and when I was coming back, as Joe was watering my plants for me, and I received a lovely welcome when I did get back, as well as a bunch of sweet peas from their garden.<br><br>
So while it can be confusing living in two places at once, it's very lovely to be so appreciated.<br><br>
I now have to try and catch up on everything here, and get my head back into work mode....<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1oM7rS9DABJLOSJrhmAk5rRcVRnSXYSTM7auqrKQQjXPxwzm2yP7oT-ZrkweVAQTlKC-x34pvHA264FLUxlAE4F3L1pk4DeyDOppW9WCWwBFhWKpkTb2mBY2qGU7pMAskiFDYGV24hGdAHY7iK3TtQswjymkiZKZLLTY2iETyk3eizVHvnbe_qhnH/s4032/FEBB52D3-C8A2-4416-B613-11CAFA4DBE85.heic" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1oM7rS9DABJLOSJrhmAk5rRcVRnSXYSTM7auqrKQQjXPxwzm2yP7oT-ZrkweVAQTlKC-x34pvHA264FLUxlAE4F3L1pk4DeyDOppW9WCWwBFhWKpkTb2mBY2qGU7pMAskiFDYGV24hGdAHY7iK3TtQswjymkiZKZLLTY2iETyk3eizVHvnbe_qhnH/s400/FEBB52D3-C8A2-4416-B613-11CAFA4DBE85.heic"/></a></div>Flowerpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14102679179201725732noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6408579395752156780.post-60351746110779737752022-07-20T10:41:00.000+01:002022-07-20T10:41:46.979+01:00Quotes and what a scorcher<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAsuf5XOii2xqZ_CBsQAOVNdL01-gtNKk0QNk6p8AXm6EhwaC6ieDaQ52j1w16Aq_crKICqQxJP_DPsUyVF2caDyhznDCINTLLM-Ar__HAL3ZhgxkLhZDKvZYJsEHFavta1Eytb-a83fMjxza4bz7mSIgUnfH-ketIDC0_xJq03Z2q6Mgp-VZI7Ouh/s4032/7F19EAAA-8FA2-498C-8BB5-F8E2EA5446CE.heic" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAsuf5XOii2xqZ_CBsQAOVNdL01-gtNKk0QNk6p8AXm6EhwaC6ieDaQ52j1w16Aq_crKICqQxJP_DPsUyVF2caDyhznDCINTLLM-Ar__HAL3ZhgxkLhZDKvZYJsEHFavta1Eytb-a83fMjxza4bz7mSIgUnfH-ketIDC0_xJq03Z2q6Mgp-VZI7Ouh/s400/7F19EAAA-8FA2-498C-8BB5-F8E2EA5446CE.heic"/></a></div>
We've just come back from a lovely few days camping with friends near St Just in Penwith, and my what a scorcher! I was more concerned with how the dogs would cope than us, but luckily there was a good breeze the whole time, and some shade, so we survived. Though I have realised I don't cope well with this level of heat. I felt utterly flattened, but we had a brilliant time with our friends and some good walks and a swim and enjoyed it so much we're going to do it again next month.<br><br>
The other day I came across this - "The trouble with words is that you never know whose mouths they've been in."
Dennis Potter, dramatist (1935-1994) <br><br>
And I thought, isn't that clever? I'd love to be able to trot out things like that on the spur of the moment. Usually I find I think of sparkling, witty things to say at 3 in the morning which isn't of much use to anyone, though I suppose they can be stored for later use.<br><br>
Oscar Wilde was, of course, the master of wit and put downs. What is it that makes someone like that I wonder? Presumably there's something in our brains that determines the sort of person we become, but it has to derive from being surrounded by people who appreciate that kind of humour. Or does it? <br><br>
On the rare occasion that I do think of the right thing to say at the right moment, I get great satisfaction. Of course, when we're writing, we can plan those moments which makes it easier for us, and more pleasurable for the reader. <br><br>
On that note, I am off to look over a short story I wrote last week for my new website as a teaser for my novel, to be published later this year. Exciting or what?<br><br>
I will leave you with another picture of our trip away, this time at Cape Cornwall.<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF3C9zZI3HBcI0u8fXz-ZERm6fMUuINMVyqLl7Aysm9M2HkGVrHNrSB4p0Ib-vC5GF9vnlUfg8IrlrRWci_GUAskVJL2EII6oBacU7oNsRdTt2sGo2EsQmsBrqdHxi3uVXsWNV76if9hIEW_3uFnCBfYGd2nFGcuuo97lKQi_ECUIlLt_NMTKdN9Gv/s4032/1AB036D8-1C93-4910-8111-BAE943D72C95.heic" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF3C9zZI3HBcI0u8fXz-ZERm6fMUuINMVyqLl7Aysm9M2HkGVrHNrSB4p0Ib-vC5GF9vnlUfg8IrlrRWci_GUAskVJL2EII6oBacU7oNsRdTt2sGo2EsQmsBrqdHxi3uVXsWNV76if9hIEW_3uFnCBfYGd2nFGcuuo97lKQi_ECUIlLt_NMTKdN9Gv/s400/1AB036D8-1C93-4910-8111-BAE943D72C95.heic"/></a></div>Flowerpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14102679179201725732noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6408579395752156780.post-32986143714426799452022-07-14T12:03:00.003+01:002022-07-14T12:03:40.680+01:00Dreams<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOaxpPR99aUWUoIu1onnAIWqFZVXFFVhy5jcaMRLL_HiDT1p-jiba4WGJgJaOVXIh0IzJwQh4WSYRvUb_tdBAVHXLcpxoa66K2BIo2KtCwfWkKoRsG8HYFD49eoBxE7xYXexCTNsk3FcscNws7tvHCEiqiwPAhIK0fKViEzYfCDdhuV37fkQ1euchb/s4032/CEA77B58-ED0C-4D24-9E87-09D216A8946A.heic" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOaxpPR99aUWUoIu1onnAIWqFZVXFFVhy5jcaMRLL_HiDT1p-jiba4WGJgJaOVXIh0IzJwQh4WSYRvUb_tdBAVHXLcpxoa66K2BIo2KtCwfWkKoRsG8HYFD49eoBxE7xYXexCTNsk3FcscNws7tvHCEiqiwPAhIK0fKViEzYfCDdhuV37fkQ1euchb/s400/CEA77B58-ED0C-4D24-9E87-09D216A8946A.heic"/></a></div>
I'm a great believer in dreams - I mean the kind of things we daydream about. <br><br>
Most of us don't have a perfect life - and if we did I suspect many of us would get sick of it, but who hasn't stared out of the window from work, wishing we were somewhere else? It might be wanting to afford a holiday somewhere hot. It might be dreaming of a companion to do things with. A partner to be happy with. Someone to have glorifying shout-from-the-rafters sex with. We might dream of a house with a garden. A dog. A cat. A different job. No job. Better health. To live a few more months. Not to live any more at all. The list goes on and on. <br><br>
I don't believe that it's possible to Have Everything, and actually, I don't see why we should, especially when so many people have so little. At one point I was desperate to have children but we eventually decided against it and I'm very glad we did. Conversely, many years ago, I had a dream job that was everything I'd ever wanted, and that came to a speedy end courtesy of the 1990 recession. I never really got back on the career ladder, and was very unhappy at work for a long time. But I survived, and other things happened. Namely, working for myself, as both my brothers have.<br><br>
But what I'm trying to say is that even if we don't get what we want, something else usually comes along. It might not be what we thought we wanted, but it's what the universe (or whatever) has dealt us, and we might as well make the most of it. Something, or someone unexpected may well come along as a result. <br><br>
I wanted to become a dancer at one point. I was on the way to taking Royal Ballet entrance exams but my dad didn't think it was a good enough career. If I'd gone I might not have become anorexic. But I might well have done. We don't know, do we, what might have happened if we had or hadn't done something.<br><br>
But I still think it's so important to dream. Dreams can bring shafts of sunlight to a miserable, rain-drenched day. They can lift us when we need a ray of hope. They can be the inspiration for a book, a TV series or a novel. They can be so powerful, as long as we don't think they are our right. Or that if we don't fulfill our dream, it's the end of the world. <br><br>
If we're lucky and we work hard, something may come of them. Or it may not. But still, carry on dreaming. We all need a measure of hope to get us through the darker times.<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFDu4Rn8CdWIVRgO2sfUIXtB7mnfxECwtzmute0uTzdh4IM5shecOd2eBt7vJHRSmc2CnGdqu7Dvyz4oSuux5k8R8xUMQzd2Y4udpAtoC1rupNUCwcA3CXDl5_kyqq1Qm0TgfAcnJtIj5XRcWl7F5_o-G_kiccSIqy-kXiuEE9eUXxoageFjZ07NHE/s4032/FEBB52D3-C8A2-4416-B613-11CAFA4DBE85.heic" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFDu4Rn8CdWIVRgO2sfUIXtB7mnfxECwtzmute0uTzdh4IM5shecOd2eBt7vJHRSmc2CnGdqu7Dvyz4oSuux5k8R8xUMQzd2Y4udpAtoC1rupNUCwcA3CXDl5_kyqq1Qm0TgfAcnJtIj5XRcWl7F5_o-G_kiccSIqy-kXiuEE9eUXxoageFjZ07NHE/s400/FEBB52D3-C8A2-4416-B613-11CAFA4DBE85.heic"/></a></div>Flowerpothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14102679179201725732noreply@blogger.com2