Quote for today

"Never mind about 1066 William the Conqueror, 1087 William the Second! Such things are not going to affect one's life ... but 1932 the 'Mars Bar' and 1936 'Maltesers' and 1937 the 'Kit Kat' - these dates are milestones in history and should be seared into the memory of every child in the country"
Roald Dahl

Today is...

“I am not afraid of tomorrow for I have seen yesterday and I love today”
William Allen White.

..a very special anniversary for me. I began working on “Bree McCready and the Half Heart Locket” the day after my relationship with Junior’s dad finally fell apart. 24th July 2006 - it was a Monday. With the benefit of hindsight I know it was for the best but at the time it felt like someone had pulled the rug out from under me.
I had toyed with the basic concept of the novel for some time and I could see clearly in my mind all the characters and their individual personalities. I had just never managed to get around to seriously putting anything down on paper. I wanted to be a writer from the first moment I held a pencil. It was the only thing I was good at and the one thing I could see myself spending my life doing. I won several awards throughout my school years for story writing but despite being complimented regularly for my colourful imagination (or scolded for my daydreaming!) on the whole my flair for words seemed to go unnoticed. Over the years I reluctantly accepted that writing would have to be a hobby and one that I could only pursue in between a real job. So I floundered from one occupation to another- soulless jobs that paid the rent but did little for my sanity or my well-being. After I got my degree in 2003 I decided to take some time out of my career to dedicate myself fully to being a mum (my favourite and most challenging job so far!) How could I ever have prepared myself for being thrown into the unexpected and chaotic world of single parenthood?

Writing a children’s novel had always been a dream for me but one which had gone on hold so many times for so many different reasons - lack of time, want for motivation, fear of failure. My personal crisis seemed to crack open something that had been buried deep inside and suddenly the idea of writing just felt like the right thing to do. It offered me a way of escaping an extremely difficult period in my life, a chance to release negative and destructive emotions, whilst offering me some much needed hope for a new beginning. It was as though with every word I wrote I could feel the darkness lifting. Bree’s world provided me with a trapdoor out of my own painful existence, a place where I was able to escape my problems and take back a modicum of control. For a while I became the master of other people’s destinies and gradually the fact that I was no longer the master of my own did not feel quite so bad. Certain features of the story reflect my own circumstances and emotions at the point that I wrote them and in many ways I wore my heart on my sleeve throughout the writing of my novel. I found the experience of incorporating my own feelings into those of the characters very therapeutic. Without wishing to sound over dramatic, writing “Bree McCready and the Half-Heart Locket” saved me. Looking back, it was such a positive thing to do under such desperate circumstances, almost as though I was not prepared to go down without a fight. Putting pen to paper was a last ditch attempt to stop me from unravelling completely. Writing seemed to organise the chaos in my life and helped to make me feel whole again. Suddenly I was grabbing every spare second I had - and spare time was a rare luxury as any single mum with a hyperactive two year old will tell you! I can remember rushing downstairs when Junior went for his afternoon nap hoping to scribble down a few paragraphs while the house was semi-quiet. I took to carrying a notebook in the back of the buggy along with the spare nappy, wet wipes and the soggy, half eaten biscuit - for those flashes of inspiration that inevitably occurred in the oddest and most inconvenient places - the supermarket checkout, the bus stop, the doctor’s waiting room. My book started to feel like my second child.
It took me until I reached the age of 34 to even consider trying to write the novel that I knew was inside me from an early age. It took something terrible to happen to shove me in the right direction. This has been a difficult but most important journey, pursuing the one thing that has always mattered to me most.
I try not to do this very often but when I look back to July 2006 I realise that if somebody had told me then that I would be living my dream in three years time I would probably have laughed and rolled my eyes to the ceiling in that way we do when what we’re hearing is truly unbelievable. If I had been told that on July 24th 2009 I would be only 3 weeks away from the launch party for my first novel I would have thought I was hearing things. It was hard to imagine at that time climbing out of the black hole I had fallen (or been pushed?) into. But what do you know? Extraordinary things can happen to ordinary people…
I’ve waited all my life for this and I am determined to enjoy every single second of it. Now when Junior says, “I wonder what will happen to me when I‘m a big boy” my response is “Who can tell? Just never give up on your dreams and above all, prepare to be surprised!”

http://www.last.fm/music/Sondre+Lerche/_/To+Be+Surprised

"Plants give us oxygen for the lungs and for the soul"
Linda Solegato

I've had this houseplant for ever. Well, since 1998, which is nothing short of a miracle for someone like me, i.e. not very green fingered. One of the children at Niddrie Mill bought a small cutting for me at a coffee morning and I nurtured it for a long time. I felt very guilty about neglecting it recently and it looked as if it was time to say 'goodbye'. As a last ditch attempt to revive it I bought some 'Miracle Grow' houseplant food. I'm a bit of a cynic about things like that but boy, it worked wonders! Within 2 days there were about fifteen new leaves and it had really perked up. What I really love about this plant is that it goes to sleep at night. Honestly! It closes it's leaves every night at the same time and they open up again around 7am. I took these pictures just in case you think I'm bonkers. I'm not sure what kind of plant this is so if you have any idea I'd love to know...

The cover for "Bree McCready and the Half Heart Locket" is now up on Amazon and Target.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_ss_w_h__0_5?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=bree+mccready&sprefix=bree+

http://www.target.com/McCready-Half-heart-Locket-Allan-Hazel/dp/1905537115

Bang goes the diet...again!!

“In the childhood memories of every good cook, there's a large kitchen, a warm stove, a simmering pot and a mum”
Barbara Costikyan (22/10/84 New York Magazine)

I decided to do some home baking with Junior this afternoon. Quality time, just mum & son. Nigella Lawson meets the Brady Bunch. I chose one healthy recipe - carrot and sesame seed squares (which taste delicious!) and one indulgent recipe - chocolate tiffin (otherwise known as chocolate fridge cake). I had this wee dream in my head of the perfect scene - perfectly behaved child stirring the bowl calmly while mother, wearing homely apron serenely wipes her face, leaving behind a streak of flour. She smiles down proudly at her offspring and ruffles his hair. A bit like the advert for Dr Oatker chocolate brownie mix. It didn't quite turns out like that but Junior had fun anyway! There's loads for a five year old to do with the tiffin recipe so it's a good one to try if you've got kids. Junior's favourite part was smashing the digestive biscuits. To be honest, it was mildly disturbing just how much he loved this....
"Pay back time!" he shouted, wielding the wooden rolling pin above the bag of innocent biscuits.
SMASH!
"Take that! And that! I will destroy you.."
By the end of the process the recipe, which recommended "leaving some lumps for texture" had flown out of the window and it looked like a bag of sand. Anyway, I'm sure it will taste lovely.
"Is this a WeightWatchers recipe?" Junior asked innocently.
"Eh, not really" I replied as I piled the butter, sugar, syrup and chocolate into the saucepan.
Tiffin features in chapter 2 of "Bree McCready and the Half Heart Locket" and this is the recipe that Bree's Mum uses!

225g/8oz Digestive biscuits
150g/5oz raisins
100g/4oz butter
25g/1oz brown sugar
3 tablespoons of Hot Chocolate Powder
4 tablespoons of Golden Syrup
225g/8oz Milk or Plain chocolate (we used Dairy Milk)

Place the crushed biscuits and raisins in a large bowl.
Melt the butter, sugar, chocolate powder and syrup over a low heat.
Combine this with the biscuits and raisins.
Mix well then press down into an oiled square tin. Leave to cool.
Melt the chocolate in a bowl over simmering water until smooth.
Spread over the top of the cooled biscuit mixture.
Leave to cool for a wee while.
Mark into squares and refrigerate.
Eat!

Right, I'm away to clear up the scene of devastation that is my kitchen!

Joy, Joy, Joy!

This really made me and Junior laugh tonight so I thought I would share it with you all and hope it brings a smile on this rainy Friday night!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L6yzjDXp_og&NR=1

Hello Dolly!

“What are little boys made of?
Slugs and snails and puppy dogs tails,
That’s what little boys are made of.
What are little girls made of?
Sugar and spice and all things nice,
That’s what little girls are made of”

Children’s Nursery Rhyme

I’ve always been fascinated by the nature/nurture debate. Are girls and boys intrinsically different? Is gender biologically determined? How does environment and culture influence gender roles in early life? It was an area of my work with children that intrigued me and I chose to specialise in the subject during second year at University. When I had Junior I was excited at the prospect of putting all my knowledge into action and I was adamant that my son would play with toys which would traditionally only have been for girls (if he was interested in doing so). Hence the reason I feel mildly despondent when I watch my gentle wee boy playing with his power rangers and action men.
“Pow! Take that you evil baddie, I’ll strangle you and rip your arms off!”
I sigh deeply at this behaviour but accept that it's probably a normal 5 year old boy thing to do.
“Why can’t they just have a cup of tea together and chat about last nights Eastenders?” I plead after being exposed to a relentless half hour of Kung Fu fighting and disturbingly inventive ways for action men to kill each other. Junior looks at me like I’ve lost my mind and resumes his killing spree. I have never encouraged this kind of play. Even before I became a mum I felt very strongly about children playing with guns and we have a strict no-gun policy at home. This doesn’t stop Junior making guns out of Lego or any other available method. Once I even watched him make a bit of toast into a gun.
Junior had a variety of toys as a baby, a healthy mixture of Thomas the Tank Engine, jigsaws and cooking utensils. He played happily with them all and continued pushing his buggy along the pavement even after an ignorant neighbour came out to tell me I was going to “Turn my son strange”. Thanks for your advice mate!! Starting school definitely changed Junior. He suddenly became aware that pink was “for girls” and for a while he would even screw his face up at strawberry Angel Delight. It didn’t help that the school toilets were decorated blue for boys, pink for girls. What century are we living in?! And his play got a lot rougher. Survival of the fittest I guess. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em mentality. I frequently had to question my own values in the first few months of school. I strongly believe that violence breeds violence. Hitting someone is not an effective way to win a fight. Violence is an unacceptable way to solve a dispute. However after months of Junior coming home covered in bruises where people had kicked him my advice changed from “Just walk away, be the better man” to “Hit them back! As hard as you can!” Perhaps my hippy, pacifistic way of thinking had been a bit naive?
Don’t get me wrong. Junior is a lovely boy. He loves babies and plays very naturally with them. He is gentle and caring with Dizzy, his hamster and he regularly compliments me on what I’m wearing. He always notices if I’m wearing new earrings. I even caught him singing “Dancing Queen” the other morning. So it's not all blood baths and ninja death moves.
Last night I told Junior if he behaved really well I had something very special to show him after his bath. I often use this as a bribe because it really works! We had a peaceful bath time and he left all his dirty clothes in a neat pile as opposed to leaving various articles scattered over every corner of the house. He was a paragon of virtue so I had to think fast about a truly terrific prize. I spotted my old doll on top of the wardrobe. Would Junior be disappointed with this as a reward? What the heck, I’d give it a bash.
Fiona, the doll is 35 years old. She is an old style Tiny Tears (probably worth a fortune now but I wouldn’t part with her for anything) She is in perfect condition apart from some chewed toes and a missing clump of hair (I was 5! I didn’t understand that it wouldn’t grow back) She is very special to me because I have lots of happy memories of playing with her. I think I was really old when I lost interest in her. Maybe ten or eleven. I can’t believe I said that out loud, but there you go.
When Junior was all dried and in his pyjamas I stretched up to lift Fiona from the wardrobe.
“I have someone very special for you to meet” I said trying to build the moment up. It was touch and go whether Junior would have a tantrum when he saw his ‘reward’.
“Ah Mummy, she’s beautiful”
Relief!!
We lay on the bed and I told him stories about what I used to do with Fiona - doll’s hospitals, trips round the block in her pram etc and he listened intently as he gently touched her moveable eyelids. He was smitten!
“Can I take her to bed with me, Mummy?”
I was a bit reluctant about this. Chances were high that I would wake up the next morning to find one of her arms missing or a pudgy leg hanging off. But he was so keen I couldn’t resist. I tucked them in together and went downstairs for a cup of coffee.
When I retired to bed much later I went in to check on Junior and my heart fell to the floor. He had made a wee bed for Fiona beside his bed (see pictures above). He had laid her carefully on a pillow with a blanket over her. He had even gone to the bother of giving her Bruno the dog to cuddle and he had laid her booties neatly beside the makeshift bed. Tears of pride pricked my eyes as I bent to kiss his cheek. Slugs and snails and puppy dogs tails? Pah!!