Oh I'll just stick a broom up my ass and sweep the floor as well, shall I? Why did someone neglect to tell me that I had a degree in toilet cleaning. I must have one, a bright shiny one with ribbons and everything. No one else in my house has developed this particular skill.
The MD looks on in horror as I cook a meal, answer homework questions, feed the dog and clean the loo! Surely multi-tasking is normal, anyone with an ounze of brainpower can do at least two things at once, can't they? I know we do not have GCSE's in multi-tasking and you cannot gain an A level in higher MT but surely it should at least go on our CV?
We women, and it is an exclusively female trait, do not brag about it, but there are societies that celebrate their MTness, the women's Institute for instance. These women know how to task multilly (is this a word?). Not only do they produce jam that is worthy of a noble prize but they can knit for the third world and produce calenders of moral debate! Ah well, I'll just get my broom.
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
Blogetry
Satin and silk
Silken
butter soft entry
parting the flesh
quietly
A rosary spill
the thump of life
darkening death
of the dirty steel
Caress me here
caress me now
call me in
show me how
Satin will love me
much more than you
Oh cheer up for God's sake!
Everyday addicts
Nurofen for the headache
Paracetamol the pain
Valium gets you out of it
But leaves you much the same
Magnesia for the windy pipes
Vitamin E for the hair
Anusol for unspoken places
and sore bits way down there
Cod liver oil for good clear skin
Garlic for a healthy heart
A whopping dose of echinacea
Will give you a bit of a start
Feminax for the period pains
Settlers for the gut
Iron jelloids and vitamin c
will get you out of a rut
Oh for the sake
of a terrible ache
A tablet, a capsule at will
90% of the human race
dependent on a pill.
Probably a good job I don't inflict my poetry on the world very often but the first one reflects the feelings I had when I popped my baby in the post this morning. The second was a result of the mad scramble on my return to find a cure for my 'stress head' in the first aid box, or should that be 'the residue of everything that my family has ever suffered from' box. Ah well!
Sunday, March 26, 2006
I have a sneaky feeling....
.....that apathy lies very close to my surface but sometimes I just can't seem to get to it. I should have my new pointy boots firmly planted on the sofa by now, letting the MD and the Feckers get on with it. It is Mothers Day and as Queen of the Domain I should not be doing a thing today apart from pleasing myself. Why then do I feel the urge to snatch the iron out of Little Feckers hands saying 'Give it to me, I'll have finished it before you can find the plug socket'. And why oh why can't I let Big Fecker put on his own gas mask and rubber gloves to clean his own bedroom- think it's a bedroom, the bed disappeared from view sometime in 2003.
Conclusion:- I simply do not have enough 'sloth' in my gene handbag.
Sloth - good word- slothy, slothish, slothlike- cannot possibly be a sin otherwise Owen (treacherous cat) would not appear to be having such a wonderful life.
sloth and minx
not much difference really!
Modest Beginnings
I have spent some time today (Mothers Day, so I can write all day without interuptions from the ironing board) looking at the openers of books. This thought trail started as I was preparing myself for parting with the manuscript. After much last minute pampering I suddenly decided that I wasn't sure about the start, probably because I couldn't think of anything else to worry about!
What makes us dive into a book, what gets us past the first page and what makes us want to read on? Had a look at some of my favourites......
Classic
- It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife - P&P, Jane Austen.
Naughty
-'Do you think you're a nymphomaniac? Bill wants to know - A round heeled woman, Jane Juska
Take a deep breath and don't lose the will to live in the middle
- At the court of the Emperor (he lived it matters not when) there was among the many gentlewomen of the wardobe and Chamber one, who though she was not of very high rank was favoured far beyond the rest; so that the great ladies of the palace, each of whom had secretly hoped that she herself would be chosen, looked with scorn upon the upstart who had dispelled their dreams' - The Tale of Genji, The Lady Murasaki (11th century masterpiece of Japanese prose and one of the world's earliest novels).
Just good
-In the beginning there was river. The river became a road and the road branched out to the whole world and because the road was once a river it was always hungry -The Famished Road, Ben Okri
Classy Dickens prize for the use of 'it was'
-It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity.......(goes on a bit) - A Tale of Two Cities.
Intriguing
- Dr Iannis had enjoyed a satifactory day in which none of his patients had died or got any worse- Captain Corelli, Louis de Bernieres.
Minx humour prize
- The rumour had spread through the city like wildfire (which had quite often spread through Ankh-Morpork since its citizens had learned the word 'Fire insurance') - The Truth, Terry Pratchett.
Now have to stop because this list could go on and on and on and on.............
What makes us dive into a book, what gets us past the first page and what makes us want to read on? Had a look at some of my favourites......
Classic
- It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife - P&P, Jane Austen.
Naughty
-'Do you think you're a nymphomaniac? Bill wants to know - A round heeled woman, Jane Juska
Take a deep breath and don't lose the will to live in the middle
- At the court of the Emperor (he lived it matters not when) there was among the many gentlewomen of the wardobe and Chamber one, who though she was not of very high rank was favoured far beyond the rest; so that the great ladies of the palace, each of whom had secretly hoped that she herself would be chosen, looked with scorn upon the upstart who had dispelled their dreams' - The Tale of Genji, The Lady Murasaki (11th century masterpiece of Japanese prose and one of the world's earliest novels).
Just good
-In the beginning there was river. The river became a road and the road branched out to the whole world and because the road was once a river it was always hungry -The Famished Road, Ben Okri
Classy Dickens prize for the use of 'it was'
-It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity.......(goes on a bit) - A Tale of Two Cities.
Intriguing
- Dr Iannis had enjoyed a satifactory day in which none of his patients had died or got any worse- Captain Corelli, Louis de Bernieres.
Minx humour prize
- The rumour had spread through the city like wildfire (which had quite often spread through Ankh-Morpork since its citizens had learned the word 'Fire insurance') - The Truth, Terry Pratchett.
Now have to stop because this list could go on and on and on and on.............
Saturday, March 25, 2006
Where art thou Eden?
Eden disappeared in a haze of fog for most of the day, soamused myself with the weird and wonderful creatures that inhabit my chosen profession. Man in knickerbockers took first prize in the 'Didn't bother to look in the mirror this morning to see just how ridiculous I look' and the 'Mad Professor' award went to a woman who thought it best to co-ordinate whole wardrobe and hair in shades of orange. The real mad professor, who was as mad as a snake, looked rather normal and almost fooled me for a minu
te until he started to read from someone else's notes!A piece of sensible information
The Eden Project, in case you don't know, is a feat of incredible engineering and imagining in a disused clay pit near St Austell. The £86m biomes (the things that look like flies' eyes) are giant greenhouses that hold a temperate zone and a humid /tropical zone. Nothing can describe the sheer magnitude of this place and it has been called 'the largest rain forest in captivity'. As some people had travelled as far afield as Eigg (where?) it must have been more than disappointing to have the whole thing smothered in a good old case of Cornish mizzle - fog and fine rain!
The whole place is dotted with sympathetic art and sculpture and makes you realise what human beings can achieve when they act on a hunch.
Oh fuck, starting to sound like a travel brochure, but it was good.
Friday, March 24, 2006
Eden, my Eden
Fantastic conference at the Eden Project, want Tim Smit as my new:
1) Dad
2) Non-sexual partner
3) Boss
4)Best friend
The man could give me reasons to get out of the nest in the morning and give my life purpose. With no script, notes or powerpoints the man captivated two hundred people by the end of his first sentence. No wonder this man has just built the eighth wonder of the known universe, people probably work for him out of love and devotion.
The man aside it was a pleasure to once again return to a place I hold dear to my heart. I remember looking down into the half built biomes and the barren soil in early 2001 (locals had a sneaky peeky before the big opening day) and being blown away by the sheer magnitude of the place. Not terribly greenfingered, I was nonetheless impressed by the newly planted 'wasps eyes' and over the next few years I watched the place grow and grow. The MD and I have attended the evening Eden Sessions - Moby, Badly Drawn Boy, Air, and narrowly missed a nasty concussion a piece at the temporary ice rink - best attended at night with a few drinks on board.
Too tiredy now to tell more as I'm back again tomorrow at Eden for part two. Will post some pics of the place soon so that the philistines will know what I'm talking about.
1) Dad
2) Non-sexual partner
3) Boss
4)Best friend
The man could give me reasons to get out of the nest in the morning and give my life purpose. With no script, notes or powerpoints the man captivated two hundred people by the end of his first sentence. No wonder this man has just built the eighth wonder of the known universe, people probably work for him out of love and devotion.
The man aside it was a pleasure to once again return to a place I hold dear to my heart. I remember looking down into the half built biomes and the barren soil in early 2001 (locals had a sneaky peeky before the big opening day) and being blown away by the sheer magnitude of the place. Not terribly greenfingered, I was nonetheless impressed by the newly planted 'wasps eyes' and over the next few years I watched the place grow and grow. The MD and I have attended the evening Eden Sessions - Moby, Badly Drawn Boy, Air, and narrowly missed a nasty concussion a piece at the temporary ice rink - best attended at night with a few drinks on board.
Too tiredy now to tell more as I'm back again tomorrow at Eden for part two. Will post some pics of the place soon so that the philistines will know what I'm talking about.
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Baby it's cold outside and it's bloody raining again!
So it maybe, but I'm as warm as a warm thing in here... and it's a good job because today I nearly died of hypothermia (again).
Took myself on my first Artists Date, that is, a date with my inner child whom I am now supposed to be nurturing. Julia Cameron recommends one a week but I can't say that this was a complete success. On the coldest, rainiest day of the month I trotted off to Penzance on the slowest train in the land with notebook in hand. It went something like this....
Have lost ability to stand up on a train, must have mislaid this skill somewhere in 1980 which is possibly the last time I had to a) stand up on public transport and b) had to write whilst on the move - think I was writing a shopping list at the time.
Penzance is grey, greyer than grey. I am blind with seaspray and I've only been here for five minutes. Rain hasn't stopped, it thunders on bus shelter roof that holds me captive. The odd, very odd, person has scuttled by, clutching at bits of themselves in a vain attempt to keep their pants dry. Hah! No such luck.
Have pathological hatred of being cold and wet. Text the MD (main driver) who sympathises from smug sofa in front of roaring radiator.
Thought this was supposed to be good for you, thought inspirements (not a word but I like it) would come leaping from all angles. Must leave shelter and find muse.
Notebook soaked. Return pronto to shelter where I am confronted by woman in sensible mackintosh, loud scarf and a dog that resembles a smallish pig.
'Awful weather.'
Understatement.
'On holiday then?'
Hardly.
'Must go.'
Thank God.
Where are my interesting characters? I am a dating failure. Next train leaves in fifteen minutes and I will be on it.
Hope springs in the far distance. Hold inadequate coat about me whilst I stumble off in the direction of a warm and loving memory. Lose notebook in well placed puddle, cross the road when I shouldn't, but make to the Little Shop of Joy and make my purchase.
All is not lost. On the train home I am transported to the land of Summer Love with my pot of stuffed olives and dreams of a large glass of chilled, fruity Pims - had almost forgotten why I live here.
Off to Eden tomorrow - my, my, aren't we just the travellin' type - will report as necessary.
Took myself on my first Artists Date, that is, a date with my inner child whom I am now supposed to be nurturing. Julia Cameron recommends one a week but I can't say that this was a complete success. On the coldest, rainiest day of the month I trotted off to Penzance on the slowest train in the land with notebook in hand. It went something like this....
Have lost ability to stand up on a train, must have mislaid this skill somewhere in 1980 which is possibly the last time I had to a) stand up on public transport and b) had to write whilst on the move - think I was writing a shopping list at the time.
Penzance is grey, greyer than grey. I am blind with seaspray and I've only been here for five minutes. Rain hasn't stopped, it thunders on bus shelter roof that holds me captive. The odd, very odd, person has scuttled by, clutching at bits of themselves in a vain attempt to keep their pants dry. Hah! No such luck.
Have pathological hatred of being cold and wet. Text the MD (main driver) who sympathises from smug sofa in front of roaring radiator.
Thought this was supposed to be good for you, thought inspirements (not a word but I like it) would come leaping from all angles. Must leave shelter and find muse.
Notebook soaked. Return pronto to shelter where I am confronted by woman in sensible mackintosh, loud scarf and a dog that resembles a smallish pig.
'Awful weather.'
Understatement.
'On holiday then?'
Hardly.
'Must go.'
Thank God.
Where are my interesting characters? I am a dating failure. Next train leaves in fifteen minutes and I will be on it.
Hope springs in the far distance. Hold inadequate coat about me whilst I stumble off in the direction of a warm and loving memory. Lose notebook in well placed puddle, cross the road when I shouldn't, but make to the Little Shop of Joy and make my purchase.
All is not lost. On the train home I am transported to the land of Summer Love with my pot of stuffed olives and dreams of a large glass of chilled, fruity Pims - had almost forgotten why I live here.
Off to Eden tomorrow - my, my, aren't we just the travellin' type - will report as necessary.
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Artist Spot - this is Cornwall
My 'Man of the month'
'Catch a wave'
Kurt Jackson
Lemon Street Gallery
Truro
Kurt Jackson, my baldy man of the month.
Canvas's are huge and manly and done
in situ. You need to get up close and
personal to smell the sea.
Pot Boilers
Oh the joy of modern appliances but why the fuck did I ever think that the Victorians were romantic? The Asshole not only called, but came equipped with a Bright New Shiny Boiler that will keep us from a slow and painful death. I love my plumber.
Now back in the executive writing chair whilst my love finishes the last of the mysterious pipe work. Oh the plain and simple happiness of writing without gloves, I even had a bit of a sweat just now.
Defrosted fingers are flying over the much missed keys - have already finished a chapter, fiddled with a poem and have now turned my attention to getting started on Julia Cameron's 12 steps to writing heaven. Have renewed and much warmed vigour and feel that I may even get back in the six o'clock saddle tomorrow to write the Morning (should be called 'dead-of-night') Pages.
Popped a large bottle in the fridge for later when we shall share curried delights purchased from the Multi-Balti down the road whilst stroking the freshly warmed radiators. Alcohol consumption plummeted to near zero in the last week replaced by soup-in-a-mug and large amounts of hot chocolate. Ah well, needs must, now back on daily rations.
Two hours later.....
Now completely out of love with the Asshole, BNSB has apparently just cost me something in the same region as a Lear jet. Smirking Asswipe has just left telling me about his forthcoming holiday in Kenya and I'm in no doubt that I've just provided him with the extra safari. Hope he gets eaten...........slowly!!!
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
The Artistic Way of the Minx
I'm all for a twelve step programme, makes me sound as if I'm trying to get rid of something that I didn't necessarily have in the beginning. I bought Julia Cameron's 'The Artist Way' sometime back but with one thing and another I haven't got around to having a good poke around inside (lazy tart - Minx).
Nice cover art but at first glance I thought that I had made a huge mistake. The contents page offered me - Your enemy within, Poisonous playmates, The Virture Trap - words that sent me scuttling for a large bar of chocolate and the latest Terry Pratchett. Eventually I could not ignore the fact that I had spent money on something that was supposed to part of my writing process, so I entered the very enthusiastic world of Ms Cameron and her twelve 'spiritually electric' steps to making me a better writer,
JC is obviously mad, she has me up at six in morning to write my 'Morning Pages' - only she hasn't for the last week because that asshole didn't call back and we're still sans boiler.
Old Mexico asphixiated himself in his own coke fumes and died quietly one night sending us into some sort of micro ice age. To cold to write, too cold to live, and we're all huddled around the emergency heater that wouldn't penetrate a piece of paper!
Still got me out of the un-Godly six o'clock thing, so if that asshole calls.....
Nice cover art but at first glance I thought that I had made a huge mistake. The contents page offered me - Your enemy within, Poisonous playmates, The Virture Trap - words that sent me scuttling for a large bar of chocolate and the latest Terry Pratchett. Eventually I could not ignore the fact that I had spent money on something that was supposed to part of my writing process, so I entered the very enthusiastic world of Ms Cameron and her twelve 'spiritually electric' steps to making me a better writer,
JC is obviously mad, she has me up at six in morning to write my 'Morning Pages' - only she hasn't for the last week because that asshole didn't call back and we're still sans boiler.
Old Mexico asphixiated himself in his own coke fumes and died quietly one night sending us into some sort of micro ice age. To cold to write, too cold to live, and we're all huddled around the emergency heater that wouldn't penetrate a piece of paper!
Still got me out of the un-Godly six o'clock thing, so if that asshole calls.....
Monday, March 20, 2006
Minxiness
After very little thought I am here. Not sure why, think there must have been an inner poke with a short pointy stick somewhere along the line.
I was just minding my own business when the words popped out of the page I wasn't reading. Do something new today - so I did.
The whole world is blogging apparently and has been for aeons, so where was I?
Unfortunately I was on the other side of the universe reading the likes of Miss Snark and Moorishgirl with the avid interest of a non-blogger. Now I realise that I can do it for myself and will, be doing it for myself, help!
Will I be interested in the thoughts of myself? Will it be a place to let the 'Inner Minx' out or will the oh-so-natural 'Outer Prat' take over and spoil everything. Who knows, who cares.
I will post my randomly liberating thoughts as they come and hopefully a few of them will help me to live in the cosmos more comfortably.
I was just minding my own business when the words popped out of the page I wasn't reading. Do something new today - so I did.
The whole world is blogging apparently and has been for aeons, so where was I?
Unfortunately I was on the other side of the universe reading the likes of Miss Snark and Moorishgirl with the avid interest of a non-blogger. Now I realise that I can do it for myself and will, be doing it for myself, help!
Will I be interested in the thoughts of myself? Will it be a place to let the 'Inner Minx' out or will the oh-so-natural 'Outer Prat' take over and spoil everything. Who knows, who cares.
I will post my randomly liberating thoughts as they come and hopefully a few of them will help me to live in the cosmos more comfortably.
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