New Years Past and Present

Don’t talk to me about resolutions. I always end up with egg all over my face. I haven’t forgotten the series of books I was going to write for children and various other projects that sounded such a brilliant idea when Big Ben chimed but had lost their sparkle before the decorations came down. That’s not to say I don’t have something special up my sleeve, but maybe if I keep my trap shut I will actually get somewhere with it!

There’s the losing weight one too. In 2012 I have added incentive to lose weight – a family wedding. I lost a stone when Tilly was ill - not through dieting, but I would rather be double my weight and have her still sitting beside me in her chair, but you know that.

November for me is the worst month of the year and January should be sitting beside it, but I cannot dislike January. Many bad, sad memories in January, but how can I ever hate a month that brought me three of my grandchildren.

It was at New Year eleven years ago that my lovely Tilly came to live with us after her first few unhappy months with people who didn’t understand the needs of an active, intelligent puppy. She thought her name was Naughty Girl (which was by no means the worst of it) and it means so much that my last words to her, the last she heard as she went to sleep were “Good girl, good girl.”.

When she joined our family it was a very happy time for us – adding her to our family at the same time that Indy was well on the road to recovery after we came so very close to losing him. That must rank as one of the best New Years ever. But I never imagined at this time last year that she would be gone by now.

Last New Year was one of the best. On New Year’s Day we will be celebrating Noah’s first birthday. What a nerve wracking time it was leading up to his birth with the worries about being snowed in and him being so late, but he was worth every bit of it.

So Happy Birthday to little Noah and Happy New Year to you. May all your dreams and wishes come true and I hope the coming year brings you much peace and happiness and of course lots of writing success.

And also there’s a cyber New Year’s Eve party going on over at Frances’ place. You can take an unwanted Christmas gift and a partner of your choice. Hope to see you there!

Lost and Found and Happy Christmas

My Poor Husband. I think what he needs for Christmas is a new missus. Just this past week I have accused him of throwing away my Fiction Feast and my rubber band. Not just any rubber band you understand, but a red rubber band that I use to hold my Special Christmas Notebook closed.

For some reason I always think the rubber band will stop anyone peeking to see what delights or otherwise I will be stuffing in their stockings this year. They wouldn’t be able to decipher my writing anyway. I know I can’t.

In my Special Christmas Notebook, I write down what I have bought and for whom. When things arrive (I do most of my Christmas shopping on t’internet – a blessing for a shopophobic like me) I tick them off the list and when I wrap them up, I strike through them in red. I also keep receipts in the book just in case something needs to be returned after the festivities.

I do tend to overdo things – I keep three separate records of the stories I submit so if I forget to note one in one place, I’ll usually have a record to refer to in another. This is not because I am uber organised, but the opposite – if I didn’t write things down I’d be right up that creek without a paddle.

So anyway, I was wrapping up downstairs a few days ago and when I’d packed away all my rolls of paper, tags etc etc I went to wrap my band round my book and it was gone. I went on about it so much that the poor man went and looked in the bin in case he really had accidentally thrown it away.

Luckily I had another red rubber band up to the job. So today I did a bit more wrapping and when I shook my gift tags out of the bag what should fall out with them but my red rubber band. Oops.

As for the Fiction Feast, I hunted high and low for it. “Have you thrown it out by mistake?” I asked darkly (this would involve use of scrunched up fierce looking eyebrows if I had any). He swore blind he hadn’t, but I later heard him rifling through the recycling just in case. There was a great deal of head scratching and “I’m sure I didn’t throw it out” every time I flung an accusing glare in his direction. I’d given up all hope of finding it when I went to scan some photos yesterday and there was the Fiction Feast in the scanner. Oops again. What makes it worse is that it isn’t the first time I’ve lost something only to find it there, nor even the second.

I’m hoping to get a sewing machine in my Christmas stocking (no comments please about it being entirely possible with the size of my stockings!).

In other news, my new Large Print book Cherish the Dream is out in January. The heroine runs an animal sanctuary and the hero is a vet and although you’re not supposed to have favourite children, this is one of mine.



And I kept meaning to post a link to a post my son did about Tilly. I go back and read it every so often as I find it comforting.

So all that is left to do is wish all my lovely friends out there in Blogland a wonderful Christmas. From the bottom of my heart I thank you for the support and kindness you have shown especially over these past few months and I wish you joy and happiness and lots of it! Love Teresa (and Indy) xx

Tears and Laughter and Happy Ever After

I received an early Christmas gift – well that’s how it felt when Debs Carr sent me a review copy of Tears and Laughter and Happy Ever After.

It occurred to me as I read that it would make a brilliant gift for anyone who loves reading short stories and when you see the names of the writers, many of whom you will recognise, you know you are in good hands! And if you’re looking for a book to take on holiday or curl up with in front of the fire, then look no further.

The very first story by Helen Hunt draws you in with the title alone, A Single Strand of Spaghetti, A Single Drop of Olive Oil. Brilliant! That’s before you even get to the story which is a feast in itself.

Next up is How Deep Is Your Love by Cally Taylor. This one about the perils of internet dating made me laugh. And so I began a roller coaster ride as I travelled through the stories meeting a whole variety of characters. It does what it says on the cover, taking you through a range of emotions.

All the stories are enjoyable, but for the purpose of this review I picked out a few of my favourites: Hive Talking by Leigh Forbes – I liked Gerald and his quiet passion for his lovely bees and I very much liked the satisfying ending. At Death’s Door by Jill Steeples – a thought provoking tale which anyone who has suffered with a partner with the dreaded man flu will appreciate, but perhaps not in the way you’d expect. Never Too Late by Deborah Carr came close to my heart, reminding me of how much I worried about my mum after she was widowed which is something so many of us go through and identify with. Karen Clarke’s powerful story, Ghosts was beautifully written and really tugged at my heart – a story that haunted me long after I finished reading it. And the last story in the book, The Girl in the Yellow Dress by Bernadette James – a lovely one to end the book with as you say a contented “Ahhhh”.

You can read more about the writers and how the book came to be born here and buy the kindle version here .

The writers of the 26 stories are, Deborah Carr, Karen Clarke, Sarah Dunnakey, Leigh Forbes, Helen M Hunt, Bernadette James, Helen Kara, Jenny Maltby, Kathleen McGurl, Tamsyn Murray, Sally Quilford, Jill Steeples and Cally Talor.

If You Sit Still Long Enough

Thanks everyone who signed the petition included in the last post. I’ve put a link on Facebook (thanks for the suggestion Jacula).

Sorry for the lack of posts. To be honest I don’t know what I’ve been doing with myself the past few weeks. I haven’t written much, haven’t read much – haven’t really done anything at all.

But I did take Indy to see Tom this week. He agreed to do a blood test to put my mind at rest and while we were there I mentioned that he’d had some stiffness in one of his hind legs. I was worried that he was showing signs of arthritis and once my thoughts turned in that direction I started thinking of even worse things it could be - though heaven knows arthritis is devastating enough. And it’s never a good idea to look these things up on the internet.

When I got home, the phone was ringing. Tom had done the bloods straight away and was calling to say everything is fine. I was so relieved. It’s no guarantee of course, but for now there are no signs of anything sinister. He’d also checked out Indy’s vision and spent ages manipulating his legs.

The stiffness is just a minor strain – it probably happened when he was chasing the ball. He does tend to throw himself heart and soul - and four wildly flailing legs - into it.

He says Indy is in great shape for an eleven year old. Well I can’t ask for better than that can I?

I have got a copy of Tears and Laughter and Happy Ever After to review, but I haven’t been able to concentrate on reading and I want to be able to enjoy and therefore review it properly. Once I have my head back together I will and I hope to make that my next post.

Oh and Indy says “If you sit still long enough in this house, you get decorated – ho ho ho!” (he's smiling really!)

Flowers in the Window

I woke up this morning to Flowers in the Window by Travis. Nothing remarkable about that, but it brought back memories for me because my mum had loved it. In the weeks before she died, she used to say to me, “That lovely song was playing on the radio again this morning,” and she’d sing a little of it.

I don’t know why she loved it so much, but it really touched her.

The song begins, “When I first held you I was cold.” Maybe I’m reading too much into this, but perhaps it made her think of my dad and his time on the Russian Convoys on the heavy cruiser HMS Kent.

This photograph of him was taken around that time. He would have been in his early 20s. The same age as my youngest son now.

Sometime during this last horrible week I watched a BBC programme about the veterans of the convoys going on a trip to Russia. They really are forgotten heroes. I know my dad used to freeze to his gun, that a hot drink would freeze in the mug before he could drink it, that he had to watch ships going down and countless men dying in those awful icy waters.

Churchill called them suicide missions and the most dangerous of the war. Without those convoys, the outcome of the war could and probably would have been very different.

Here’s another photo from the time. I don’t know who the men are in it.

I just can’t imagine what it must have been like, the unrelenting cold, the knowledge that at any moment they could come under attack from the air or the sea. I can’t imagine it and my dad never spoke of it. All I know is what my mum told me.

The Russians awarded a medal to the men who served on the convoys. What did we give them? Well eventually, after more than 60 years, they were given the Arctic Emblem, a tiny little star, but no medal.

In January this year, David Cameron said that the veterans should receive medals. They endured “Incredibly harsh conditions.” You don’t say? But he’s changed his mind. They’ve already been recognised with the Atlantic Star apparently and that will do. No matter that 95% of the men who went on to serve on the convoys had already earned their Atlantic Star.

And in his election campaign, Cameron promised to order the Tories to introduce an Arctic medal if they came to power. So much for promises. Good job the sailors didn't turn round in 1941 and say "No thanks, we've already done our bit in the Atlantic."

I know they didn't do what they did for medals or recognition or glory - they did it because they had to. Would it really be so difficult to finally thank them properly?

There are about 200 veterans of the Arctic campaign left. My dad is not one of them. Today is the 36^th anniversary of his death and I wanted to write this blog in memory of him.

There is a petition on the government website to give the veterans the medal they deserve. So far it has attracted fewer than 700 signatures. It seems a shame.

If anyone would like to sign, here’s the link to the petition.

Today we said goodbye to Tilly.

Such a special, brave, loyal little dog. I am so glad for the time we had with her.

Upwards

First of all isn’t the Woman’s Weekly Centenary Special fantastic? I got mine this morning and I can’t wait to get stuck in! I’m going to send for the free pattern and dust my old sewing machine off. It’s years since I made anything.

At a quick skim through I saw Facebook quotes from Karen and Jo and a lovely picture of my friend and visitor to this blog, Sue. And there is a complete copy of the original magazine from 100 years ago inside. How cool is that?

Now for Tilly news. We saw Tom again today and he remarked on how bright she is and how lovely and glossy her coat is, all things considered. Last time her weight had dropped to 17 kilos and this time she was up to 17.1.

Things have been very up and down. At one point I was torturing myself wondering if I was doing the right thing. It was a very bleak day and my mood was the lowest it’s been since this all began. If she turns her nose up at a meal, my spirits immediately go into free fall.

I realised I couldn’t go on like this, waiting for her to get worse or for a new symptom to manifest itself. Her treatment is palliative, but she’s doing okay at the moment so from now on I’m taking one day at a time, enjoying our time together and giving her the best life she can possibly have.

When the phone engineer called she told him to clear off and she’s even turned up at mealtimes with Indy a few times now wanting to know when hers will be ready! Today she was trying to persuade Isabel to share her beans on toast with her at lunchtime. She’s going a bit further for her walks and I’ve noticed a few times that instead of being in here with me she’s taken herself to the bedroom to sprawl out on the bed in the sun.

She had a horribly upset tum for a few days, but – touch wood – that seems to have righted itself. Now we have to try to wean her gradually off the steroids and hope her appetite doesn’t diminish. Then, all being well, back in two weeks for more blood tests. She’s still jaundiced, but as Tom says, not quite as luminous as she was.

Thank you for all the support and lovely comments over the past few weeks. You really have helped more than I can say.