Lemnos

How I love Greek islands: So rustic, villages of stone houses with empty food cans for planters and cats on their doorsteps. Wooden window shutters shading the rooms inside, painted blue to highlight the whitewashed walls. 

We booked with Sunvil Travel and stayed at Afrodite Villas, Plati, Lemnos. We had a room in the new apartment block on the first floor with a balcony and sea view. The room was nicely furnished and the bed was exceptionally comfortable; so much so we wanted to bring it home! (We were told it was an orthopaedic bed). Fully airconditioned, cleaned daily, towels, hairdryer, plenty of coat-hangers and a nice fluffy white dressing gown.

It was our first holiday abroad together since Corfu in 2017 - life events and lockdown preventing the luxury of doing nothing but stare at the vastness of the ocean, soaking up Vitamin D and making simple decisions of where and what to eat, then watching the sun set.

We booked 7 days half-board which we could take the evening meals at the hotel as and when required during the 14 day stay. This enabled us to sample local tavernas too. A very satisfactory arrangement.

Having lived in Cyprus for 3 years (2000-2003) we had taken two cruises from Limmasol port. From there we visited many Greek islands - Lemnos being one which captivated us 21 years ago. It took us a long time to revisit! The hotel was a good 25-30 minute walk from the town and port of Myrina. Walking along 'the old road' in the heat of the day is uphill and no footpath; I had to stop for a bit of shade, drink of water and a sit on a wall. But the trek is worth it. 

Myrina Port

My Mama Mia moment

Myrina shaded shops and market place

Needless to say after the walk and exploring the shops and coffee cafes, we sat watching the fishermen mend nets and share their catch. A huge ferry came into dock and did a three-point turn in the mouth of the harbour, reversing to off-load passengers, cars and lorries. Maybe they have come over from Athens? (It reminded me of my solo adventure to Skyros, 8 years ago now! Scroll down the contents page to see 'The Big Adventure blogs posted June to Oct 2015 ) Then lunch which was in STO KASTRO restaurant (see my review on Trip Advisor). The food was magnificent and personally, the best meal of the fortnight, though a prawn spaghetti dish and the fish dishes at the hotel were wonderful too. There were nine plates of various salads and dips to go with the meal and, of course, always, a basket of local bread.

Shrimps in cream sauce

Full to bursting after the meal the owner was kind enough to call a taxi for us to get back to the hotel. A swift journey on the 'new road' took no time at all.

Days on the beach, which was a short walk across the road from the hotel, were so lovely. Sun beds placed in front of beach bars where you buy a coffee or other drink and maybe lunch or an ice cream enables you to use the beds, shades etc for free. A changing unit, WC and shower were also free to use.

Plati beach is surrounded by mountains. They rise and dip, mostly barren but for a lone concrete building (a shaded shelter for goats perhaps). Other hillsides sport holiday flats at its base then staged up the slopes, topped with a phone and tv aerial. The bay is about 1.5 miles long, yachts sail on the slight breeze and I listen to the rhythm of the ebbing and flowing tide. A seagull soars above and a couple paddle in the shallows before walking their way into the sea to plunge into the coldness of the salty, clear water.

The hotel gardens boast many ornate trees, flowers that are nameless to me and is visited occasionally by a feral cat or two. One night a week the hotel open its doors to others who want to experience 'Greek Night' where there is a buffet meal, music and plenty of happiness as guests clap along to familiar Greek and English tunes. It gets a little loud (or am I so very tired - how does that happen when I'm doing nothing but resting?) and I leave a little earlier than everyone else. But how very lovely to lie on my bed listening to the night's activity below.

 

There is a lane, very steep road up to Plati village next to the hotel. We climbed it twice. The second time we stayed for a village meal. We ate a starter of beef in filo pastry with tzatziki followed by moussaka. The setting was lovely 

Plati Village

The taverna was decorated with a yellow bike, red & yellow wellingtons and flowers.

We were sorry that Sunvil had not been able to run two of the three trips we would have liked to attend due to it not yet being the main holiday months and so fewer people in their two hotels. Pete especially would have loved the vineyard trip and Greek cookery lesson trip. However, on the very last day we had a fab Island tour in a lovely mini-bus. We stopped for coffee at Kalithea, saw converted windmills (now holiday residences) at Romanou, an archaeology site at Poliohmi, a church on a high point at Zoodochos pigi that had 64 steps down underneath to a deep water supply and a meal enough to feed an army at Giannakaros, Moudroa, just a short ride away. It was a grand end to our time in Lemnos.

All good things come to an end. We had made holiday friends and had to say 'goodbye'. I was amazed that so many of the hotel residents had been revisiting for 12, 16, 20 years. There is a 'family' feel to the place, a community of 'regulars'. I'm sure that is due to the staff being so friendly, helpful and charming.

 

The owner Afrodite and her son George in the reception area.

The bar ladies, the lovely Kiki and Angelina 

At Limnos airport the four check in desks were not very busy, unlike the huge expanse of Gatwick where we flew from (only one flight a week by Enter Air, a Polish airline). Check in is so much less stressful at smaller airports and soon we were seated and flying. The ground we had visited became a patchwork quilt of cream, green and brown fields below as we banked across the island that had captured our hearts. Saying a silent 'goodbye' to the sea and 'hello' to the clouds the plane rises and the restless passengers relax at the 'ping' of the 'ok' sign to be able to undo seatbelts heralding our now smooth passage homeward.

Children cry/scream, adults struggle to soothe them, amuse them, rock babies to sleep. Inaudible messages come over speakers and airhostesses do their patrolling up and down the aisle. The mountains disappear from the window view, only clouds hanging like cotton wool balls below us as the metal machine speeds across oceans and countries, occasionally shuddering in turbulence. Three hours and fifteen minutes and we see the green, green grass of home. Thankfully the sun has followed us.

Would we go again? God willing, Yes. Recommended for those who like peaceful, restful, holidays outside of the main season of July and August when I feel, the temperature would be unbearable.

June 8th - 22nd 2023

Tamworth Castle

Photo by Pauline

Tamworth Castle

You may have heard of the Staffordshire Hoard or visited Ventura Park shopping centre? You may even have been into Tamworth town centre and perhaps in summer walked around the beautiful Castle grounds? But I wonder how many people actually go into the gem of a building that is the historic heart of Tamworth?

Having lived in Tamworth for nearly half a century I confess to having visited the Castle a handful of times, mainly when I was a childminder or showing it to visitors. 'History is not my thing' I would tell myself having failed miserably at the subject at school. And, being married to a man who has such knowledge of history, I have visited many buildings whilst on holiday that, although interesting, have not inspired me in any shape or form. I can see their artistic lure, I can sense their grim living conditions, I can appreciate the home comforts I have and I can understand some people like to collect brain data of dates, facts, historical battles won, etc etc. But, I tell myself, I can only cope with the history I have lived through and experienced. I can hear you tutting but we are all different and I am who I am.

However, I write and the writing group I belong to were given a challenge recently - to write about the Castle. I screamed inside, noooooooooo, I can't do it. But as part of a group there was a need to help Tamworth Castle become more popular, to bring people into our town, to see and experience the treasure we have on our doorstep that we take for granted, walk by, even ignore. It was a risk for them to put together an event in a few weeks - A Festival of Stories. 

Our group were offered a free tour of the castle and the opportunity to write stories to be read out to an audience. Eeeeeeekkkkk, I screamed inside, and nnnnnooooooooooo, I can't do this. But, having noticed the gazunder in the bed chamber and the rubbish awaiting refuse collection in the courtyard on my way out (a contrast between past and present) it sparked an idea and I found myself researching on line about sanitation in castles. It made interesting reading. At the same time there were programmes on television about deaths in the UK before our sewage systems were built. (Again, being married to a man who had worked in sewage and water - well in the offices of a water company, I was not adverse to the subject of human waste). And so a story formed using the history that could have been Tamworth Castle's story. A modern day story of a fictional wedding was penned too, where the walls told the story in his grumpy tones.

I had Covid and was hoping I would not be negative for the event, but I had two clear tests two days beforehand. Now, I had to face my fears and not let the group down. That inner voice turning into a louder imposter syndrome which took me back to school days where reading out aloud had been an awful experience. The teacher had sent me out of the classroom to stand in the corridor on one occasion, and the other I had to walk around the playground alone as punishment for reading out aloud so badly. But wait, then another voice told me - but you have done it so many times as an adult, in church. You're fine. You can do this.

I did. It was a fabulous experience, it boosted my confidence no end. I listened to others and my work was received well. 

Visitors to the Castle stopped to listen or to roam freely through the Great Hall, through the living quarters, up the tower, through the courtyard, try on chainmail, see relics and treasure etc etc. There were lots of events over the weekend - art exhibition, poetry, songs, writing workshops and at night the Castle walls were illuminated with colours and words, lighting up like a beacon of joy. It made me proud to be connected to this historical feature in the Capital of Mercia.

Photo by Pauline

I am hoping the Festival of Stories becomes an annual event and perhaps I will less fearful and more enthusiastic from the outset next year. I believe an anthology book is in the making so my work, and those of my writing group, will be in print soon (watch this space for details).

My thanks to the Team at Tamworth Castle who made it happen. Do look Tamworth up if you are looking for somewhere to visit www.tamworthcastle.co.uk. There's a children's playground, river walk, picnic lawns, bowls, cafe and lots more to see around the Castle Grounds. The flowers on the terraces by the bandstand are always so lovely too.

Photo by Sue Flint

Year End Reflection - 2022

 At the turn of the year I always reflect, using my diary, on all the happenings of the year just gone. It’s an interesting exercise as many a moment has been forgotten – twelve months soon pass.

Significant moments are a mixture of happy days and hard days, as happens. Besides cold-water swimming at Dosthill Quarry during June to September, I was a regular at aqua aerobics at Lea Marston leisure centre and from September to December joined my local Bannatyne's for indoor swimming and increased my ability to 22 lengths.

                               Dosthill Quarry 

No ‘proper’ holiday again for the third year running but lots of trips, places visited and coffee and cake with friends in garden centres. I visited Liverpool, Whitby, Llandudno, Anglesey, Southport, Leeds, York, Weston-Super-Mare, Melton Mowbray, Ticknall in Staffordshire, Bristol, Edgbaston in Birmingham, Swanwick and Chatsworth House in Derbyshire and a week in North Yorkshire. I travelled by car, train, coach – Middleton’s Coach trips are fab. I had a few trips to the local cinema and went to the theatre twice. How blessed am I?

A very special moment was baking cakes with my great-niece, Imogen, aged 2. 

My prize possession – a red Kitchen Aid mixer – went to a new home as I found it was now too heavy to handle and doing less and less baking. It was a lovely feature in my kitchen but no good gathering dust when I have a lighter electric hand mixer.  

 Health issues included water infection, covid, bad falls needing physio for my feet and attention to footwear, covid and flu jabs and a Basal Cell Carcinoma removed just before Christmas. My husband had a hip replacement and my daughter had major surgery too, so all three of us were not ourselves over Christmas. Three years running, Christmas has been a mishmash and I am adamant next Christmas will be different/better.

I continue to keep the craft group going, am still involved with writing, attending Tamworth Writers and zooms with the Society of Women Writers, Society of Authors, Writing for Wellbeing with Joanna Barnard, and Jericho Writers. My novel gets worked on – edited, re-read etc and I have a children’s book artist to work with too, so things are progressing slowly towards my goal of being a published author.

We have been in our bungalow 18 months now and have additional furnishings in most rooms. Having a spa bath was a wonderful investment. A new carpet for the lounge is on order. The garden is looking drab now during winter, but spring bulbs are showing their heads and I look forward to the coming colour to brighten the days.

Of course, 2022 will be remembered in the history books having lost our dear Queen. We have the Coronation of King Charles III to look forward to, a holiday to the Greek Island of Lemnos and a few surprises, no doubt as 2023 gets underway.

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE.  Thank you for your support in reading my blogs and encouragement for my writing.

Marking a moment in history...

Rest in Peace thou good and faithful servant, Queen Elizabeth.

I'm sure we will all remember where we were, who we were with if not alone, and how we learnt our dear Queen had died. I was at a wedding, which held its own sadness, and during the speeches my phone pinged - a short message from a friend telling me the news. It was hard then to concentrate on the occasion I was attending. A double dose of emotion had to be held in. 

The following day I went wild swimming, previously booked. It was the first time I visited the quarry for a solo swim as my family swimmers were not available. The sun was shining and the place looked beautiful. There was just one other lady swimming so we had the great outdoors to ourselves. We exchanged a few words but recognised we wanted to be alone and she left the water as I completed my second circuit. 

Also for the first time, I attempted a third lap. This lap was for the Queen; for my thoughts and sadness; for her determination to complete her role and duty; for her finishing well. I swam and cried adding my tears to the mineral water that was so peaceful, so fresh and beautiful as QE always was. A few leaves floated on the surface heralding a change of season, a change of monarch and so much more. Birds called, a magpie and pigeon watched me gliding by. 

On Sunday, I lit a candle and wrote in a book of condolence at my local church. The loss to so many of the only Monarch we have ever known has been much talked about in interviews on television. Pictures of the Queen's life, her achievements, her love of Scotland, horses, dogs, family times and visits to many countries have been well documented. Things we have never known, seen or heard about before have been broadcast and has deepened our awareness of history and British traditions. 

We certainly know how to make a 'show' out of the saddest or even the dullest of royal duties - soldiers in red coats, shiny shoes and bearskin hats; trumpeters; funeral cars; lying in state in Cathedral and Abbey - the general public showing their affection with silent tributes, flowers and gifts. 

What I found hard to comprehend, as a retired counsellor, was the immediacy of transition from Queen to King. No time for the Royals to grieve, to take in the loss of their mother, grandmother etc. And it was all so very public, absolute no privacy. Keeping a 'stiff upper lip' as so often the British do, but at what cost to their mental wellbeing. How much more 'normal' it would have been to see a tear rolling down a cheek. They were certainly rolling down mine and I'd never even met her! 

As the days roll on with television coverage of every movement of both the coffin and the royals being here, there and everywhere, my heart goes out to them all. Surely the time between the death of the Queen and her funeral could have been a time for LESS up-close and personal tv coverage, even though history is being made by the fact of her death after such a fantastic life, everyone, new King and his siblings and family especially, need to take stock mentally of the humongous change that our country is undergoing right now. God Bless them all.

Ladies, your help is needed ...

It's a bit delicate. It's a subject not normally talked about. But we females CAN make a big difference to our waterways. 

We are causing fish to die, sewers to be blocked, seas to be polluted. We have, for so many years, just put all sorts of things we have assumed were disposable in this way, down our toilets. We flush and forget. But we must change our ways. Ewww, I hear you say, but its simple, ideas to below.

If you haven't seen the programmes on tv about our rivers and sewers being polluted and blocked you wont have seen the stuff, other than what we have to do in the toilet, floating in water. It is a disgusting sight to see blood stained sanitary wear floating past the mouths of fish, turtles, river and sea creatures.

It is yes, the fault of overloaded sewers. It is yes, the fault of water authorities illegally dumping sewage into unauthorised places. It is yes, the fault of retailers selling non-biodegradable wet wipes, cotton buds, nappies, sanitary wear. But, we can take some of the blame of not changing our habits. 

Please, please, please think before putting anything other than toilet paper into the pan. Here's some suggestions to ease this situation.

• Sanitary pads, panty liners/Tena pads and tampons: wrap in toilet paper and dispose of into a bathroom bin, then into the general household waste dustbin. If out in public, hotel or shop toilets do use the paper bags and bins provided. 
• Wet wipes, disinfection wipes, baby wipes etc. Before these were invented we used household cloths. A flannel for intimate areas, an old towel or other material for disinfecting surfaces. These can be washed and reused often.
• Nappies and incontinence pads/sheets (I should hope no-one tries to flush these away but sewage workers may say different) can be folded up and taken out to the household dustbin. A plastic bag is not required. You could use paper bags or wrap in newspapers. (Brown paper bags can be bought cheaply, in bulk, via amazon)
• Cotton buds. Wrap these in a tissue or toilet paper and place in the household bin. 

Some of the above appertain to men too - we can be good examples to our men/boys/partners etc. Please wash your hands thoroughly after handling personal waste items.

Items that say they are disposable does not mean they are bio-degradable. If you want to go a step further in helping the environment, do read labels on how to dispose of things you buy and match to your council's recycling requirements.

When I lived in the mountains of Cyprus, not so very long ago, they acknowledged their sewage pipes were not built for coping with anything other than bodily waste. For three years I was required to put even toilet paper into a bin at the side of the toilet and then into the household waste dustbin. It was a very strange practice at first, and, being British, I often forgot. But as I got used to the idea I saw the sense of it and diligently respected the country's rules of sanitation. However, there were refuge problems too but that was another matter.

I was surprised to see there are images on-line and YouTube films of how to be responsible for our own waste products. Not something I would normally be searching for! Here are just a few:

If each person made simple steps to change a habit of a lifetime, one more creature wouldn't ingest unhealthy matter, one more fish could swim without bumping into a sanitary towel, one more sewage outlet wouldn't get blocked, one more river would be cleaner etc etc etc.

 

 Thank you for taking the time to read this blog. I know it seems like an issue too big to make a difference but for future generations, NO, FOR THIS GENERATION, now and for the future, it needs to be improved. If I change one person's mind about this issue I will be happy. Thank you in anticipation of some comments too. 

Two Quick Reads

It's very rare I read novella's but two came to my attention recently and I love the fact that I could read them in the space of a day. A novel takes me at least a week but I do love the continuous joy of them.

Here's the two novella's you might enjoy too.

Millennium Girl 

by Claire Bullimore

Go back in time....

This hooks you into the teenage years of needing someone of the opposite sex to love you. 

Jessica falls for Liam and you wish she hadn't; he's not right for her. But naively is deaf to reason and well meaning friends advice. That inner voice we all have, is stronger and louder than anything outside of Jessica's head.

Her holiday with 'the girls' will ring bells with lots of younger readers than I. There were no foam parties for me and my two pals in the Isle of Wight on our first holiday away from parents. They hadn't been invented then!

To think that it's only in the last 20 years that phones could take photos and you can send them to friends; that payphones have gone out of fashion and now we use a high factor sunscreen whilst abroad or even in our own back gardens, thanks to global warming. It was good to read that Jessica wanted to be treated with respect - being taken for a meal out and to have someone show you that you are special to them.

That first boyfriend though, that first kiss, that first heartbreak - you never forget it, it lasts a lifetime. 

The author is a brain tumour survivor and I applaud her self-published work. If you are a Bridget Jones's Diary or Friends fan or was a 'Naughties' teenager you will have a blast reading Millennium Girl.

Available from Amazon on kindle or in paperback.

                                                                *       *      *

WHERE IT ENDS

by Heather Walker

The cover tells its own story. This novella links life with death through short stories. People, atmosphere and trees all view the cemetery setting from a different angle. My favourite was Mary who visited her husband's grave every day. She had spent a life-time not been listened to, now she could speak freely about opinions and her life as it was now. You get a sense of this lovely, patient, loyal wife that comes over so very real. I laughed and said 'Yay' out loud; it was brilliant. 

The chapters are subjects many of us may shy away from but Heather tackles them with sensitivity, humour and gentle nuggets of reality and seriousness. 

Recommended to those not in the early stages of grief but who are familiar with their local churchyard as a place of peaceful rest, nature and human activity.

Available from Amazon on kindle or in paperback.

Peas

Not something to get excited about I hear you say! No, the little green pea doesn't get much praise. Lots of children hate them, they are not easy to eat - they roll off a fork or jump off your plate if you try to stab them with fork prongs causing you much embarrassment when eating with guests or out in a posh restaraunt. Amateur gardener that I am, I decided to grow some vegetables this year and have already picked a substantial amount of peas having watched them grow, flower and produce pods.

My vegetable patch!

I am weighing them to see how much I produce. But having stood and shelled them memories of bygone days flooded my mind and I wondered if kiddies today even know this is where their frozen peas come from. My mind went back to a sunny day sat on the concrete step in the back garden with my mother. She had a cullender, bowl and heaps of pea pods she was holding up in her waist-tied apron. She told me to pop the pods open (showing me) and scoop out the peas; put the shells in the bowl and the peas in the cullender to be washed. They didn't look dirty to me but we spent some time together doing this job. I can't remember if it was weekly or just a one off occasion, perhaps she did it when I was at school. We didn't have a fridge or freezer back then (late 1950's) but we had a visiting greengrocer van to our cul-de-sac on the outskirts of Birmingham driven and served by Mr Arkle (what wonders of information we retain).

I'm sure somewhere along my married life I have bought and shelled peas but, like the majority of us I suspect, we find frozen peas so much more convenient. In fact a Twitter poll shows 64% preferred frozen peas. Mother let me taste the sweetness of those freshly podded, raw peas and I think there is not a match to that taste in the cooked or frozen variety. It has been known that I ate a few pod skins too!

                                                                Sweet fresh peas 

Did you know the humble pea is not actually a vegetable but a small, edible legume? They are in a family of lentils, chickpeas, beans and peanuts. They are a rich source of plant-based protein, fibre, iron, magnesium, potassium, calcium and vitamins. They help manage cholesterol levels, have high antioxidant levels and protect against some forms of cancer. I particularly like petit pois and mange tout but like the majority of the population I always have a bag of frozen peas in the freezer. (I did a Twitter poll and 64% preferred frozen to fresh, tinned or mushy.) How about you? Which type of peas do you eat or grow?

Water calls me

 Wild swimming is calling me, my kit is ready but...

Wet suit, water shoes & gloves, float, dry robe.

my younger, cold water partners are not! Dosthill Quarry, Tamworth, Staffordshire, is 11 degrees at present. Our last swim of 2021 was at 16 degrees and we thought that was too cold to continue through the late Autumn/Winter.

However, I'm ready to take the plunge, it's June after all! But as I've not been swimming for a good while (although I do Aqua aerobics) I feel it would be foolish and no fun to go it alone. I've joined a Facebook group called the West Midlands Bluetits and see they occasionally go to the quarry, so may join them sometime but I attend my keep fit class and this week stayed for a swim. The pool water feels so thick, is that even possible? I am yearning for the thin, fresh, clear waters of the quarry.

I have reflected on my relationship with water - I learnt to swim at Woodcock Street swimming baths in Birmingham with my dad and brother and later enjoyed trips to Stetchford baths by taking the number 11 Birmingham Corporation bus with friends. I love the sea but live too far away to use it. The smell of seaweed, sand and salt is a pleasure for the senses. Sea swimming is gritty though healing for skin and other ailments. I don't like seaweed wrapping itself around my legs and getting out, especially if stony underfoot, is sometimes challenging. Swimming pools are lovely, especially abroad lounging around hotel grounds, sun bathing your skin and warming you so much that dipping in the pool is so lovely and cooling . 

My first experience of a wild swim was with an elderly friend in the river Wray, Lancaster about 20 years ago and thought it was thrilling. But it wasn't until last year I tried the great outdoors locally in fresh water and found it the most wonderful of experiences. Swimming surrounded by rock, trees, a heron, fish and clear mineral-rich water made me at one with nature. It's a freedom, a focus, exhilaration, an achievement.

In a hired suit, ready to try wild swimming!

Wild swimming is even dominating my reading. This book is an amazing account of 3 brothers wild swimming in the most dangerous of locations and the length of a river, for adventure and for raising awareness of how incredible our natural world is and how we need to preserve the seas, rivers etc and all that live in and on them. A thoroughly gripping real life story.

Highly recommended read

And now I'm reading The Ladies Midnight Swimming Club by Faith Hogan. 

Enjoying this novel

Wild swimming is not age-limited, in fact it would seem that more women than men in later life take up this pursuit. The health benefits are well known - it's good for bones, muscles, the brain and good mental health. Dosthill Quarry hire out wetsuits and floats if you want to try it out. They 'man' the site and offer diving lessons for those even more brave than I. There is a rescue boat if anyone gets into difficulty.

A circular swim is approximately a quarter of a mile.  You need to book a time slot first - here's the link https://dosthillquarry.com/. Do say 'hi' if you see me there, I'll be the slowest swimmer, just taking in each moment of delight and making the most of my surroundings.

Getting Published?

        It’s been 32 years since I wrote this book and used a vanity publisher. I paid a fee in response to an advert to be published. It was a substantial fee I could ill afford but I was passionate to see my work in print. I collected a box which contained a number of copies – I forget how many, but not a great deal – maybe 50. I was so excited to get them home, hold them and see a dream come true. But alas, I was very disappointed when I opened the book and saw the printed pages – so amateur. 

        When I tried to contact the producers, they had vanished from all trace. I felt I had been taken for a fool by a money-making couple. My ‘life script’ told me it wasn’t good enough and I wasn’t good enough. (My school reports always contained the script 'could do better'.)

        The artist was a friend of a friend, a twin girl, Julie Genders. The original pictures I feel sure were in colour. I hope she went on to have a good career with her artful gift. We lost contact a year or two later.

        The book was intended for children 3-9 years of age telling them of bible stories, explaining church services and especially christenings, weddings and funerals. The book should have been something I was proud of, instead it’s been hidden away but the memory of it has kept me determined to fulfil an ambition. It has made me learn and hone skills, it made me love books with a passion, it has shaped who I am.

                                                      

        I continued to write, always. I cannot live without writing something. Lots of notebooks filled with fleeting thoughts, folders of poems and short stories never seen by others; letters to magazines, articles in parish, commercial and professional magazines were printed and boosted my writing confidence.

        As time passed and the typewriter made way for computers. Instead of posting a manuscript and waiting for its precious return, now, sending work off to publishers and agents is replaced by the simple click of sending an email. The wait for reply can, however, still be a long time. Becoming an author is harder than any job interview. Rather than meet people, research of who I’m sending my work to for consideration is a silent process, searching the web to identify which publisher or agent may be interested in my women’s contemporary fiction novel and other children’s books. No doubt some of them research me on the web too. One day, I will succeed in my quest, with the right help, at the right time.

Call of the Penguins

 by Hazel Prior

Christmas for Beginners

 

There’s a lot of Beginners contained in the pages of Carole Matthews Christmas 2021 novel.

Molly is running her farm and education centre for teenagers with difficulties.  She is beginning again after losing her previous land to the HS2 works (grrr).

Shelby, her actor boyfriend, is beginning to be less available as he takes on Panto life in Birmingham and then gets offered a film part in the USA. He supports Molly financially but is happy for her to house Lucas, his grieving teenage son in the caravan on the farm site.  

Molly is beginning to blossom and grow with the help of Bev, her farm friend. An open day is planned and together Molly, Bev, Alan, Lucas and Matt the Mayor transpose the barn into a twinkling Christmassy scene where the teenagers and animals all are part of a fabulous fundraiser event.

There are new beginnings for two rescued Turkeys; for a mother & daughter escaping an abusive home life and for all the other main characters.

It is a great follow on novel from Happiness for Beginners and can be read as a stand alone as you soon get to know about Molly’s situation.

Loved it, and read it so quickly! 

Review on Goodreads also. 

Writing on the Road

Campervan Love and the Joy of Solitude by Sue Reid Sexton.

I saw this book at Gloucester Service Station/Farm Shop and, on return home from a little break, I ordered it from The Book Depository - as quick and easy as Amazon and free delivery.  The Book Depository are also part of the Easy Fundraising scheme, so I earned a few more pennies for my favourite charity.  My hope for choosing it was that it would get me a) back into reading and b) inspired to continue with my quest to get my novel published one day.  It definately gave back both my reading and writing mojo, even though Christmas was on the horizon and there was so much to distract me.

It was published back in 2016 and I felt the opening first few paragraphs were alarming as being very mindful of the planet; recycling/getting rid of rubbish considerately and caring for beauty spots was uppermost in everyone's mind. However, that aside I got well into the scenes of campervanning as I have friends and family who often take off in their homes on wheels for mini breaks.

It is not a novel or fiction. This is true life of one brave lady who writes for publishing, a serious, time consuming business - I know. The need for a quiet space I can identify with.  The procrasination for the job in hand I can identify with. The inner voice that tells you its not good enough/give up etc I can identify with. I definately identified with her journal writing.  And when I found out the author had been a Person Centred Counsellor for 10 years, as I had been, I identified with the processes she likened writing and counselling to.  

She writes about the joy of solitude, fears parking up in an unknown place without a phone signal, her relationships and her innermost thoughts.  She describes in detail places in Scotland I have visited. The detail of scenery and nature is beautiful.

Towards the end, and what I was most inspired by, was the weeks or months she is not writing and the self talk about it not being worthy of continuing.  She has writing gaps and has to have right conditions for editing - tidyness, food, drink etc.  It is this that got me out into my writing cabin again the very next day and to get on with my process/progress.

I didn't want the journey to end, I didn't want to leave the highways, narrow lanes, bends and high places of Scotland but the wheels of my mind in reading this book has got me moving.  

I read reviews after I had made notes of my reading experience and was upset for the author that a few people didn't get it, or wanted it to be something other than it was.  All books, no doubt, appeal to different people at different times.  I guess those who bought campervans during these last two Covid years may have wanted tips on camping sites (there are a few recommendations) but wild camping is the author's preferred way of being away from home for the purpose of writing and needing few distractions.  It is a log of her trips, at different times, to different locations and what happens during those times.  

Reviewed also on Goodreads.  

Tiredness can kill....

...... a notice on the motorway.

But it's not just drivers that need to heed this warning. At this time of year 'End of Year Fatigue' is a thing. Tiredness causes irritations, arguments, mistakes, dropping and breaking crockery, falls and so many other mishaps because the brain, and therefore your body, is not firing on all cylinders.

Try to combat this by sitting down with a cup of tea or coffee. Stare out of window for 5 minutes. Breathe deeply. Give yourself permission to REST. Watch a film, read a book, forget the chores for an hour or two. Longer if you can. The power of resting is amazing: restoring your balanced mind and creating new energy. I can testify to this.

That said I know there is much to do at this time of year - ask yourself 'is this essential right now?' We also have the new Covid virus to contend with, which no doubt is adding again into our stresses. But we can be happy about the knowledge that THIS TOO WILL COME TO PASS. Be KIND to yourself.

Journal Writing

One way of clearing the clutter of your mind, where thousands of memories, hundreds of names and places, trillions of thoughts, stresses, feelings etc pass through, or take up residence over a life time, is to write a journal.  The idea is to get it out of your mind on to paper and thereby be more peaceful.

You don't have to be good at writing.  A journal can be done a number of ways to suit your needs.  Here are some prompts -

• Write a daily account of what you have done, who you have interacted with, how you have felt etc.  It can be short points like a diary or longer sentences as little or as much as you like.
• Choose a topic - the weather, a person, a possession, a feeling, a place, anything.  Write how the weather affects your mood, how that person has affect on your life, how a childs toy sparked a memory, how hurt or angry you were after a meeting, how beautiful the countryside or town is.  Topics are endless - a few sentences soon turn into a page or even two or more.
• Some people find logging their diet helps with finding out food allergies or trying to lose weight.  Seeing in black and white what you have eaten rather than trying to remember every mouthful can be a reminder of how much or how little you have eaten, what triggers your allergies or IBS.  Perhaps add a line or two about how you feel after certain foods - ie. full; wanting more; felt bloated; etc will show you where you are happy and where you are not.  Seeing it written down will trigger other thoughts ie. 'perhaps I could substitute this for that' or 'wow I've done well today'.
• Journals can be a way to build self-confidence - writing down affirmations ie. I can do this, I'm brave, I'm strong, I'm gifted, kind, caring etc.  One a day keeps negativity at bay.
• Journals can be a way of logging information about your hobby, places you visit (travel log), keeping notes, doodling/drawing, working things out.  They can be lists or weighing up pros and cons of a decision.  

Perhaps you have notebooks which you started and didn't keep up with?  It doesn't matter how long a gap is since you last used a notebook in any of the above ways.  There is a time for everything, and sometimes writing a journal for a short period of time can be just the ticket to get you through a difficult time or to log your joy at attaining a goal.  

Treat yourself to a new notebook and pen soon.  Give it a try and see if it helps.  

Clock Watching

 

Do you keep looking at a clock, your watch or time on your phone?  Do you wish it was Friday when its only Wednesday?  Do you countdown to your next holiday or Christmas wanting it for the break from your job or the daily grind of life?

It could be a sign of boredom, unhappiness, depression even.  Sheila Walker, the middle aged protagonist in my (as yet unpublished novel) is showing signs in her job that all is not well by clock watching.  Having worked as a PA in a family accountants for over a decade she is restless but tells herself and her friend Phoebe she is comfortable, knows her job well and is not looking to change it.  

Sometimes we believe our own lies and it holds us back from moving forward.  We get stuck in a rut of familiarity and go through the motions of routine as time slips by.  We say we don't like change and yet, sometimes, it can't be stopped.  Change is sometimes forced upon us as circumstances of others around us affect our lives.  

Sheila has a talent and passion which has been held at bay during her child rearing and working life but circumstances lead to an opportunity to fulfil a dream.  But first she needs to 'sort herself out.'  

I wonder what you do to make slight or drastic changes?  Perhaps rearrange the furniture at home or decorate a room.  Perhaps take up a new hobby or start taking an interest in gardening.  Perhaps you sell your house and move away from all that is familiar?  Perhaps you have been made redundant during this Pandemic and are job seeking?

Days tick by and each one has a new challenge.  Though we like to plan and know what we are doing it is inevitable that unexpected things will come our way.  New people to meet, new sights to see, a new routine to get used to.  Let's embrace each precious moment and be happy in all we experience. 

Clutter in the Loft

 Clearing the Clutter

It's a job we all mean to do - clearing the clutter from our homes.  Sheila Walker (57) my protagonist in Novel 1 (written but as yet unpublished) tackles this job.  Her eldest daughter, Lily-Anne is getting married and needs something that's stored in the family home's loft.  Retrieving it Sheila sees the mess and is determined to tackle it.  In doing so she gets more out of it than she bargained for.  

I wonder what you would find in your loft space?  Having just moved house I had hoped that downsizing would see rather less between the new rafters but alas it still seems to be a lot of 'stuff'.

We have sold things, given items to charity and thrown stuff away.  But when a home has more than one occupant, the amount of 'stuff' is doubled, trebled, quadrupled etc.  Many a bag or box goes into that space without a label so sifting through to find something becomes a bind. 

I am guessing like me you would probably find old school books, childrens toys, curtains, rugs, boxes of bank statements/bills etc., spare kettles or toasters; folding chairs; things to be mended; material; Christmas decorations and the tree in your loft?  My husband and I have numerous framed pictures which we know will never be on the walls again; and ornaments too never again to adorn shelves or window ledges. They too must go! Letting go of memorabilia is not always easy.

A loft can be a problem area of the house in other ways - squirrels, rats, bats, bees, flies etc can become unwanted residents.  Or they can be a delightful conversion space for a spare bedroom or office.  

Only one property I lived in temporarily, didn't have a loft.  This was in a village flat roofed house in Paphos, Cyprus, where there was very little storage space too.  However, as our UK property was rented out whilst we were away for 6 years, all our worldly goods/treasurers/junk was locked away in the roof space, the hatch battoned down for safe keeping.  On return it was some time before it saw the light of day again.  An access ladder was installed, flooring fitted and an electric light to make it safer to mooch about in.  Part of Sheila's story was inspired by my own experience though I love how it differs as my imagination took on Sheila's life.  

 

 

A Feather on the Doormat

A Feather on the Doormat

No, it's not a book title.  Though it could be.  But it's not the title of my (as yet unpublished) first novel.  

I have blogged my novel writing progress over the years: showing you my writing space; blogging about courses I've attended; books I've read etc etc.  I know some of you share my hope that one day my book will be published and available for you to read having spent so much time in the writing, editing, re-reading, editing again and again, sending off to publishers and agents and I am now 50,000 words into its sequel. 

So what's this about the feather?  A white feather on a doormat.  If you found this on your return home what would you think/feel?   This feather on the doormat is found by my protagonist, Sheila Walker, and is to her a sign from her departed mother.  A feather appears at special moments throughout her life that comforts her, encourages her, 'speaks' to her.  Sheila talks to her mum in her head and on this occasion does not receive a clear message back.  She needs to do something, but not quite sure what.  She commences on a quest to find out, acting on impulses and instinct.  It leads to a clearer headspace, a tidier home and eventually a change of direction.  Intrigued?  I hope so.  I will blog some more snippets later, so watch this space.

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Perhaps you have lost a loved one and have had a similar experience?  A robin, a butterfly, a flowering rose on the anniversary of the death of someone close.  Or a whisper on the wind, an inner sense of the deceased being near, a warm breeze rubbing past your shoulder.  There are many different believed signs of life beyond our earthly one.  I hope you find comfort by such occasions in times of grief.

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I know for some people feathers would evoke fear - the fear of feathers is called 'Pteronophobia' and the irrational fear of being tickled by feathers brings about a very high anxiety state, from the mere thought, let alone the action which would undoubtedly lead to a panic attack.  They would be likely to avoid places where they will be in contact with or see feathers ie. a bird park, avairy or visiting anyone with a pet parrot or budgerigar. Perhaps you know someone like this?

However, I hope for you, like me, feathers are lovely to see.  Soft, gentle, reminders of nature and beautiful birds.  Something to sink your head into - a pillow full of duck down, or cover you at night with a feathered quilt.  Perhaps your sofa cushions are feather filled or you have a 'dream catcher' in your window with the feathers blowing in the breeze?  Perhaps you will notice feathers more often after reading this blog?  Do let me know in the comments box below or via Twitter @tweetsue13.

 

Wild Swimming

 

Dosthill Quarry, Tamworth is a place I'd never visited.  Many, many years ago it would occasionally be in the local newspaper as a danger spot, indeed some had drowned there as I believed it was unmanned, unlike the very well supervised place it is today.  Its natural beauty is stunning.  

Apparently it is mentioned in the Domesday Book.  Much later it was renown for granite excavations and a fresh water spring flooded the quarry.  By 1958 scuba diving, cliff jumping and swimming were being established.  In 2015 the famous Milk Tray cliff diving advert was filmed at this location.

I can't see myself being brave enough for jumping or diving but over the years have been interested in people swimming in cold water, 'how on earth do they do that?!' I would think, seeing them run down to the sea in winter or into a lake.  

During the Pandemic of Covid 19 in 2020 when I was prevented from enjoying the warm waters of a swimming pool I recalled a lovely memory of the one time I swam in the river Lune in Lancashire with an elderly lady friend.  It was an experience that would see me well when my daughter told me her friend's mother swam regularly outdoors in various locations.  

I was also in awe of Reverend Kate Botley, in her swimming costume and woolly hat, swimming wild on the television.  Ben Fogle swam in a lake too in his 'Living in the Wild' programme.  I think my daughter was astonished when I said I'd like to do that too and no sooner said than arranged.  Live life whilst you can is a motto both of us use.

The first occasion we hired wet suits and floats and the attendant made sure we could float and swim, giving us instruction where to swim as the divers entered and emerged from the depths at certain points.  I really did not want to think about how deep the quarry is, knowing that there was nowhere to touch the ground, but good to know I was being held up by the wetsuit and float.  I had no hesitation of entering the water, I so wanted to do this!

Having arrived with my cossy on under my joggers and jumper (for warmth afterwards) I then had the first experience of squeezing myself into a really tight one-piece, not a quick and easy feat.  And after the swim peeling it off whilst trying to be quick to dry myself was awkward.  But how can I describe the joy I felt after the first open water swim?  The clearness of the water, fresh and mineral filled, not salty like the sea or warm and claggy like the chlorine of swimming pools but pure and exhilarating.  I loved it!  

Being surrounded by greenery, and on our third visit being watched by a heron, is just heavenly.  I can only say I felt totally at peace, at one with the world such as it is with its horrors, diseases, tragedies and tribulations.  Everything but the moment melts away.  Pure bliss.  I don't want to get out but find the feeling of calm and exhilaration carry on for sometime afterwards.

This borrowed 'shorty' suit was so much better to swim in and now I have my own wetsuit, an early birthday present from my daughter.  I'm not sure I'll be up for the depths of winter swimming and might defer to indoor swimming if all Covid restrictions are lifted, but I now look forward to my once a week wild swim.  Never too old to try something new!

Afterword : Dosthill Quarry can be found on YouTube for those interested in Scuba Diving.  It is 24m deep and the water temperature has been 16-18 degrees on my visits.  It is home to a variety of fish, and hidden in its depths, there are various wrecks to be explored.  

A Moving Experience - Part 3

We're in.  We've survived.  We love our new abode but oh heck, how stressful was that.  

Two Friday afternoons prior to moving date were the most stressful of times.  Phone calls, emails, solicitors, agents, previous occupiers, buyers - we were in hot pursuit of them all. Last minute panic about exchanging contracts, removal date etc saw me with a very poor night of sickness and diarrehea prior to commence moving day.  

Boxes, boxes, boxes.  Cleaning, cleaning, cleaning.  I was exhausted.  But without a look back I stepped out of our home of 30 years with a 'goodbye house' and no regrets.  Stepping into the bungalow started the reverse of events.  The removers were brilliant - calm, helpful, cheerful.  Unloaded all our worldly goods into various spaces and only a cheap clock face was broken.  Now where's the kettle.  I made everyone drinks and felt the relief flood through my vains.

We have now emptied most of the boxes or stuffed things in cupboards, cabins, shed or the loft until we find proper homes for all items.  In the meantime its a daily occurrence to say 100 times 'where's the... ' to each other.  

Cleaners and an oven firm came in as a one off - I employed someone else to do some essential (mindful of Covid) work.  It immediately feels like home and settling in is an on-going process of meeting the neighbours, being acquainted with the locality and its amenities etc. 

Thanks to everyone who has sent us good wishes on social media, cards and gifts.  It delights my soul to know you care.

A Moving Experience - Part 2

The process started last August when we decided to put our house on the market.  We had three agents give us a valuation and we chose one, not for the highest valuation but an interesting pitch whereby all we would have to do would be to sign a contract - solicitors were included in the package.  It turned out not to be a good choice and we soon changed to get our own solicitors.  This was a costly mistake.  However, we were pleased with the solicitor we ended up with.  The stress for a week whilst this was being arranged was scary.

We saw a bungalow we liked but with no buyer for ours at that time it sold and we lost it.  But I believe everything happens for a reason and after the winter we had our block paving drive cleaned and asked our agent to post a new picture of the front of the house.  We then viewed another bungalow and fell in love with it immediately but contained any hope/excitement.

Then a buyer came to view ours (we'd had two other couples previously).  We all wore face masks and were keeping our distance.  I cleaned before and after their visits as the Pandemic was still rife.  They fell in love at first sight of our place too.  They have a young couple interested in their property so it was all systems go.  Offers were put in and accepted and we were 'Sold Subject to Contract'.  

That was back in February.  Lots of emails and phone calls back and forth to the Estate Agents and Solicitor, paperwork to fill in and a contract to sign (but not date) has been submitted pending a completion date.

Meanwhile lots of activity of decluttering our possessions by way of emptying the loft.  I have sold stuff on Shpock; given good items to the church for their next open air pop up sale, given three sleeping bags, a quilt and blanket for the homeless; an old but useable sewing machine went to sewing people making masks for the NHS, a laptop went to a group who were making them fit for school children to use, clothes have been put in charity bags and books sold via an app on my phone.  All in all very productive and satisfying.  My sister and nephew have had home and garden furniture too.

Now comes the big clean - not that my house is dirty but places I don't get round to normally are being wiped down, kitchen drawers lined, net curtains washed, inside windows cleaned etc.  We have boxes of items labelled up and are at a stage of being anxious to know all is well with our buyers and theirs.  Its hard living with uncertainty but if all goes well we will be moving at the end of April, beginning of May.

I have to say I think the process is all so very wrong.  No contact for weeks gives you time to doubt that all is well.  Just a phone call or email each week saying what the state of play is would be helpful, even if no change from the last week, after all the agents/solicitors get a good fee from property sales.  So tension builds and anxiety saps my energy.  I tell myself it'll all be worth it and so glad I am doing this now and not when I am any older.  Even younger people find it stressful - it used to take top spot on the Life Changes stress chart but now I see it has been kicked off the No 1 stressor and features below 'death of a spouse' and 'divorce'.  

Changes to the procedure I would make:  

• Agents - have a pack ready of 'Things you will need proof of during the selling process' - for example we had no idea that windows and doors fitted by a non-FENSA registered builder/fitter would need an Indemnity Insurance certificate.  Make sure you have a gas boiler/gas safety certificate.  Have knowledge of any trouble with neighbours house and outcomes of any applications to the Borough Council re TPO's (Tree Preservation Orders).  
• Solicitors - Have an agreement of how much contact can be expected, charges etc.

All our dealings have been done during the Pandemic and therefore by 'phone or email only, so personal visits not allowed other than in the initial stage.  The lack of contact, personal or otherwise can mean the difference between a good review of your service or not.

Our stumbling blocks were as follows and I list them in case readers of this blog have similiar issues:

• Gas Safety Register - a new boiler has been fitted in the property we are buying and because the house number is, lets say, 123A, it had been registered wrongly to No 123.  This took a good while to put right which should have been really simple.
• A Tree Preservation Order on a tree outside of our property boundary also caused confusion, one solicitor wanting clarification it was not in our garden and the other insisting it was.  The local council office finally shed light on the situation after we chased them for information.  Did you know that if a tree that has a TPO on it and its branches overhang your garden wall you have to get permission to cut off said branches?  Good job they were out of our reach all those years we dealt with the falling leaves.

Communication between Solicitors seems very confusing, one saying they have sent information and another saying they are still waiting for it.  Meanwhile we draw closer to the date that the person at the top of the chain needs to complete by and no-one in the chain has had this date verified in order to make arrangements with removal companies etc.

So we are now on our third date for completion/moving.  Exchange of contracts are taking place and removals on Monday 10th.  What a journey this has been but in the end - all is well.  Our boxes are packed and a closing of a chapter will take place over the weekend.  Wish us well for Monday and the new start that is to come.