Job prospects

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" I asked my daughter at lunch today.

"A mummy," she says.

"You can't be a mummy," her brother complains. "That's not a job." [Wry smile from me, here.]

"Would you like to be a teacher?" I ask.

"No."

"Maybe a nurse, or a doctor like Daddy?"

"No, that's a boy's job. I don't want a boy job. I'm a girl."

"Doctors can be girls too," my son shouts back at her. Patience and tolerance are low in his list of skills at present - equality and justice are clearly higher! I do wonder where they get these sexist ideas for jobs: it certainly isn't from home.

"What about being a vet?" her brother continues. "Boys and girls can be vets."

"No, that's a boy job. I don't want to be a vet."

Volume levels are rising, and the distinction between boy and girl jobs is not one I wish to promote nor pursue. "So, is there anything else you want to be?" I ask gently.

"No. I want to be a mummy."

So that's that.

Does that mean I have to be a granny?

New Year Resolution

It has been a hectic time chez Withenay, what with family illnesses and husband's new job and house hunting. The book has been taking too much of a back seat. Now it simply has to move higher up the 'to do' list and get sent out to publishers. If it were New Year this would be a resolution. (Come back in April to see if it has been broken yet!)

The wonderful Caroline Smailes at BubbleCow has given her editing advice on the first few chapters of Singing in a foreign land. I cannot thank her enough for this - apart from the fact I have had to re-write the first chapter completely. Don't you just hate it when people are right? My word-count for the day has involved a lot of cutting and pasting, and I'm not sure whether those words truly count.

So, the next job is to buy a whole load of big brown envelopes, another ream (or two) of pristine white paper and a comfy travel chair for sitting in the queue at the Post Office. 

[Or, of course, to fill in the application form for a mortgage. Ah, the eternal conflict between what I want to do and what I need to do!]

Next week I am reading some of it as part of the local Festival week - exciting and scary all at once, so wish me luck!

Wanderings ...

The blog is not called Withenay Wanders for nothing.

Blogger silence has been enforced by Christmas capers, attention-seeking children being around and family visits. Oh - and the need to assimilate the news of a complete change for the family in 2009.

Yes, we are filled with joy and delight that my husband has got a job in Manchester. It is close to being his dream job (clinical rather than academical medicine, but otherwise perfect!) and we - the family - are very, very, very proud of him.

We are also upset that we have to move. We love Newcastle: it is such a vibrant city and we have the most wonderful friends here, despite only being here about fifteen months (so far...) Manchester is a whole new ball game.  Neither of us know anything about it and, we have discovered, have few - if any - friends living in or near it. 

So New Year heralded a weekend of house-hunting - or rather, driving round and round suburban Manchester thinking, "Would we like living here? I wonder what the schools are like? Can you find a garden in a city? Are there any houses that would suit us?" For me, this last question is easy to answer: Yes! Unfortunately, not necessarily ones we can afford...

So, Withenays wander yet again, this time across the country from East to West (well, in a general south-westerly direction from here) and establish new roots and homes.  Life's never dull!