An African Dream

The BBC is running a series called 'African Dream' which features an African entrepreneur.

This week it featured Sylvia Banda, a Zambian lady who has built up a multi-dollar business over the past 27 years, but it started with her taking ten days of annual leave and attracting her first customers simply by the smell of the food she was cooking wafting out of the window. Now she is exporting her own pre-packed food.

I am always inspired by 'rags to riches' stories - even more so when it is in a developing country and there is no safety net for the entrepreneur. I wish I had the courage (and the skill and inspiration!) to follow suit. So hats off to Sylvia, and I wish her every ongoing success.

You can watch the programme online here: www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-africa-21605796
(It is only 4.20 minutes long, including the titles and credits!)

Mulberry Tree Monday: Being a butterfly doesn't come naturally

Only three weeks to go!

It has been half-term this last week and not only were my parents-in-law visiting but also my husband had a week off work. Naively I thought this would mean that I would be able to sneak plenty of time away at my desk to blog and tweet and write and promote my book and organise my life. Instead, we went to the zoo, we went shopping and out for dinner, we went to the optician/dentist/vet (various appointments throughout the week), and wrote angry letters to the council and MP (just don't go there!). And to top it all, last night I spent the whole evening ironing whilst the rest of the family watched The Blues Brothers.

Thankfully, I believe everything is still on target for Publication Day (18 March). I have reviewed and corrected my proof copy of In the Shade of the Mulberry Tree and I have prepared the Kindle version (other ebook versions are next on my list). All I need to do now is the marketing and publicity.

Self-promotion does not come naturally to me. I wonder if it does for any writer, in all reality, for some of the love of the art of writing is because you are lost in your own make-believe world. Squirrelling oneself away, armed with only a keyboard and screen (or pen and paper) the writer spends their time in their own company, and those of their own creation. I love reading Joanne Harris' tweets. She writes in her shed, and every day the shed is a different place or scene. Often I think I'd like to live in her world! A novelist inhabits a world of their own imagination. For me, I wallow in my own history and the stories of my family's life in Zambia. It is quite a selfish art!

But in order to publish, and subsequently to sell, the writer has to emerge from this cocoon and become a butterfly: bright, colourful, flamboyant. They have to fly around, talking to everyone they meet about their book, their writing, how wonderful it all is. I have organised a book launch party, but it has involved several sleepless nights and mild panic attacks as I hope and pray that my friends will come. It would be so embarrassing to be sat on my own with a glass of flat champagne and a box of unsold books behind me!

Thankfully I have some wonderful friends, some of whom have gone through this before. They have offered publicity suggestions - the local paper, magazines, the library, the school. But most of all they smile when I mention my book and encourage and don't laugh at my feeble attempts at promotion. For now, that is what I need.

Maybe, one day, I will become a fully-fledged butterfly.

If you want details of the book launch and other events, please see my other blog and website: www.catharinewithenay.com

Red is for...

My son's move into secondary school has resulted in a new way of teaching, not least of which involves a whole new range of lessons - subjects that are touched on in primary school but are better dealt with when they've achieved the maturity (ahem!) of 11+.

The most exciting are the practical ones. Every fortnight there is cookery (or Food Tech, as they officially call it). To my surprise, everything so far has been edible. My husband and I even managed to finish off the rice salad, into which he had added slightly more curry powder than you would recommend. I asked him if he'd accidentally added a tablespoon rather than a teaspoon. "Oh no," he said, "I just took the pot and shook it..."

DT develops another batch of skills. I am full of hope for the demonstration of woodwork and metalwork skills, but the first item to come home was from plastic. He told me what they did.

1 Took a piece of plastic.
2 Sanded all the edges and rounded all the corners so that it was smooth.
3 Placed it on the machine, which heated it and then moulded it into the wavy shape.
4 Let it cool and added the stickers.
(To be fair to him, the stickers may have been added before the heating step!)

All very well and good. Look at the result:

Does anyone else think he's designed a communist flag?

Why is nothing as straightforward as it should be?

I always thought it would be easy.

When I started writing In the Shade of the Mulberry Tree, I thought it would just be a case of opening a Word document, thinking a bit about where to begin my story and then to start tapping the keys. Clearly all I would have to do was persist at that for a bit, then hand it to a nice publishing company, have it printed and - voila! I would be a best-selling, multi-millionaire author.

My first hurdle was the writing. It isn't quite as simple as just sitting down and doing it. That, in itself, requires discipline. Discipline is not something I am good at. I am easily distracted. I love lots of things. Tea and biscuits, for example. And, gradually, as I made friends and contacts in my new home, they were more enticing than retelling my story.

I am forever indebted to Debbie who listened patiently to my whinge about getting the book written before suggesting I set myself a target: 500 words a day. All of a sudden it was manageable. 500 words is just a couple of sides of A4. I could make enough time to sit down (with a cup of tea, of course) and write that. In fact, perhaps my target should be 1000 words?

So I revised a target, knowing I would be happy with half of it. And thus I was able to achieve, but also didn't feel a need to be down on myself when it went wrong. And I gave myself weekends off: writing time then was a bonus! (In fact, spending time with my wonderful husband and children was the bonus, and made all the writing mid-week worthwhile.)

Writing those final words of the final chapter was such an exhilarating feeling! I had accomplished something - I had followed it through to completion. There, in a few kilobytes of text, was a year of my life, written out for all to see.

Then I started reading it through and didn't like bits. And it was lumpy, with chapters of variable length - some many pages long, some just a couple of sides. And did it really flow together? Would anyone else truly be interested? The process of editing began in earnest.

Today is my private deadline for finishing editing. Well, actually, it will be tomorrow (you see, I like double deadlines so that I don't feel too bad when I fail the first!). If this book is to be published then I have to get it as good as I can at this moment in time. What is astonishing is how many spelling or grammatical mistakes there are that I must have overlooked all the other times I've read it through!

I am determined to meet this deadline despite the traumatic computer events of the last week. My old Mac Mini had died on a couple of occasions in the last month: the entire operating system crashed. I'm no technological expert, but I know that isn't good. So in the middle of last week the nice men at the Apple store did a data transfer to the new model for me.

In itself the change wasn't a problem, but the new Mac Mini (a) doesn't have the right connector to my old computer screen, so I am hitched up to the TV in a rather precarious fashion and (b) doesn't have Word on it (and won't accommodate my older version), so I am having a rapid lesson in Pages (Apple's equivalent).

As if that wasn't enough, over the weekend the computer decided not to communicate with my printer. Did anyone ever say life was supposed to be easy?

The trouble with meter readings

Yesterday the man came to read the meters. Of course, I was out, so he left a card for me to fill in the readings and leave in a prominent position today.

I hate reading the meters, particularly the electricity. This is when I curse the builders we had from here to kingdom come. Blue air all around. This is the procedure I took in order to complete the request.

1. Be prepared. Get the torch and the screwdriver.

2. Check torch: find the battery has gone. Find spare batteries.

3. Discover that new batteries also don't make the torch work. Find another torch.

4. Only torch I can find is a headlamp. Don't laugh.

5. Put on the light in the pantry. Pull out the set of steps and use them to wedge the door open.

6. Sort out all the empty bottles that were thrown into the recycling box and missed...

7. Empty pantry of big boxes and packs of drinks that fill the floor space. 

8. Remove the vegetable rack.

9. Put the trays on the kitchen table.

10. Kneel on the (horribly dusty) floor in the corner of the pantry.

11. Remove 4 screws from wooden panel, and then the panel.

12. Using headlamp, read electricity meter about 1m away in the depths of this cupboard. (Note to self: need opticians appointment!)

13. Go back into house to find pen and paper to write down the number.

14. Reverse steps 7-11.

The Gas meter is a lot easier, being in a box outside. It was only complicated by the fact that (a) I couldn't find the back door key and (b) that silly triangular key is always at the bottom of the drawer.

I hope our energy company realise how much effort I go to on their behalf. By the end of all that I feel ready for another cup of tea! 

Photo credit: from the film Delicatessen (1991)

NaNoWriMo 2012: Celebrate or Sink without trace?

50,000 words is an awful lot of writing...but honestly, I knew that before I started.

For the uninitiated, NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) is a challenge to write a novel in a month - or, more accurately, 50,000 words in November. I am not writing a novel but a memoir of my family's time living in Zambia. I have already completed writing the first book (In the Shade of the Mulberry Tree) but I'd always held plans for a trilogy, so I thought I would take this opportunity to work on Book 2.

Above all, what I wanted to do with the month was to reinstate writing into my life. To that end I had a private target of 30,000 words, or 1000 words a day on average. Achievable? Possibly. But I have learnt some lessons along the way.

Here is what I have discovered in the last month:

1  I love writing. When the subject matter flows it is the most enjoyable discipline.

2  It also appears I love editing, as all I am wanting to do now is go over all my writing and correct it!

3  I can maintain the discipline of writing 1,667 words a day for two weeks, then it rather goes to pot. I have excuses, with matters that have occurred within the family and other commitments that I have to fulfill, but after working at it very hard for two weeks my brain was a little frazzled and all I really wanted to do was to have a rest. So I did. (For about a week, which is too long!)

4  It is easy to get distracted, even by your own writing. I have spent a happy hour or two (ahem!) looking up information about railways in Zambia, maps of road journeys we took, and tried (unsuccessfully) to find the book I had about President Mobutu of Zaire/the Democratic Republic of Congo.

5  It turns out I can type drivel for hours, if necessary. If you have a word count to aim for then I recommend throwing in every adverb and adjective you can think of. The quality of writing falls, but you get nearer the goal! (Some sentences are really good - honest!).

6  I am itching to put together all the oddments of writing that I have done for this second book, to lay them in some sort of coherent order and try to develop a storyline that is enticing. At the moment I have a series of stories, each interesting in their own right but they don't drive the reading of the book. A lot of printing and cutting, copying & pasting are in order!

6  Above all, I'd like to get In the Shade of the Mulberry Tree published. One of the many NaNoWriMo distractions was to write the blurb for the back cover of the book, which I am so excited about. I need to double check my manuscript and tighten up on the layout. It is all so nearly, nearly there... but needs time devoted to it for its completion.

So, after 27 days of writing as if my life depended on it I have stopped.

Technically, I am a NaNoWriMo failure.

But I know I'm not a failure. Although I would have loved to reach their 50,000 word target I had set myself a lower target which I have achieved! When I put my pen down (figuratively: actually I walked away from the keyboard) on Tuesday evening I had completed 30,158 words - slightly above my private target of 30,000! I am absolutely delighted with this.

Furthermore, I know that if I combine that with the 23,000 words or so that I have already written I am well on the way to completing a book. Given the amount of editing I know needs to be done (referred to in point 5 above) I suspect that I am about on target. There are a few stories to flesh out, and a few to reposition. It is all very exciting!

And - as if all that is not enough - I am very excited about the prospect of giving my blog a makeover, since little has changed on it for a long time. Keep an eye out for it!

More news will follow about the publishing of my first book In the Shade of the Mulberry Tree in the new year. I'm not so impractical as to expect that I can organise that before Christmas as well as everything else. All I have to do is look forward to that long, relaxing holiday over the festive season when I have nothing to do but sort out such matters... ahem!

In the meantime I'm off to open up a bottle of something to celebrate my November achievement. So, put on your glad rags and pick up a glass -  I cordially invite you all to raise the roof with me at my NaNoWriMo Celebration Party!

Six days; 10,000 words

Writing Wednesday

I set myself the challenge and, after nearly a week, here I am in NaNoWriMo mode, typing away as often as I can to get the word count up. I must confess that the title reflects where I should be rather than where I am. For those who don't know, this is a writing challenge for the month of November, aiming to complete 50,000 words by the end of the month. The six days bit is right...

So what are the pros and cons (so far) of this adventure?

In its favour, it has certainly instilled a little writing discipline in my life. I sneak off to my desk whenever I can and I endeavour to write rather than watch something rubbish on television. (This is not strictly adhered to, as witnessed by my inertia when MasterChef was on last night.) The daily target - 1,667 words - is beneficial, as it can motivate me to keep going just a little longer. All too often I would have given up and had a cup of tea instead.

The writing itself is not of high quality and jumps about wildly from topic to topic. I've been a little stymied by needing to do some research about the places we visited in order to write. I wonder if writing a novel would be easier than a memoir in this regard: at least then you are making everything up in your head rather than searching for accuracy. Then again, even novels have to be placed accurately or they lose their resonance.

The downside is my fear that I ignore the children too much. That period after school when I should be encouraging them to do their homework or feeding them at least one of their 5-a-day is often squirrelled away by the computer instead. My husband gets an even worse deal: I just abandoned him to looking after them for hours at the weekend and he's lucky if his dinner is more than a sandwich!

From what I read Week 2 is the most difficult: it is the wall you have to go through. I anticipate loss of motivation and then despair and then giving up. But that is partly why I've set myself a lesser target than NaNoWriMo would like: to complete 1000 words per day.

And what have I achieved? As of last night, 9,439 words - about five hundred short of top target, but 50% more than my own. Perhaps it won't be so bad after all.

NaNoWriMo: the writing dilemma

I haven't done Writing Wednesday for a long time for a simple reason: I haven't been doing much writing. It turns out that our summer (if I can be so bold as to call it that) sapped my mojo and it has been a struggle to kick it back into action. I can tell how drained I became as I was barely reading and that, I have to tell you, is practically a life crisis! I can't remember a time when I didn't love to lose myself in a book.

Yet I long to write. When we were canal boating back in May I spent hours at the tiller, chugging along the beautiful waterways, planning stories and phrases, plotting the outline to a chapter or coming up with the perfect description of the scenery I passed. As soon as I stopped: bam! It is gone! There may be some lessons to learn from this.

1  Always make notes as you think of ideas.
2  The pace of canal life is great for writing motivation.
3  Dry land is not so good.

Of course, the main factor is time. Work went a little crazy for a couple of months and my children are always a drain on resources. That is nothing compared to many writers, who scribble away at their masterpieces from the most time-pressured, child-infested lives possible. Perhaps I needed even more pressure in order to get going.

And so, I note that NaNoWriMo approaches. For those of you who are unaware of this phenomenon it is short for National Novel Writing Month - the month being November. The challenge is to write 50,000 words in 30 days. Now, I'll not go into the argument that 50,000 words does not constitute a novel, nor into the pros and cons of writing so intensively expecting publication by the end of December. No - instead I'll focus on the merits of getting into a writing habit. Or, in my case, back into it.

The challenge equates to 1,667 words per day (that allows me to stop at 1,657 on the last day - the mathematician within me insists on calculating, and saving, those extra 10 words). If I aimed for 2,000 every day that I could allow me 5 days off. Even if I achieved 1,000 per day I could be writing enough words to top up one of my partly written memoirs practically to book length. Then I could spend a happy Christmas editing (ahem!)

Can I do this to myself? More importantly, can I afford not to do this to myself? The challenge is out there. Perhaps I should just give it a whirl and see where I get.

Or else I should buy a narrowboat and become a hermit.

What do you think?

The Car Story, Part I: Out with the old...

After three glorious years with our car the end of our lease contract loomed. In fact, it has been looming for the last six months but no amount of my nagging seemed to provide the time my husband needed at work to reorganise its replacement. Deadline approaching we made a decision to purchase our own - possibly financially worse, but better than being without a car for at least 3-6 months while a new one was located.

So, mid-September I rang the leasing company and arranged to have our beloved Fabia taken away.

"What day would you like?" she asked.

"Monday? In the morning?"

"Fine." She checked my home address (rather than husband's hospital) and all was sorted.

Monday morning came...and went... 

In the afternoon I gave her another ring.

"But it's booked in for tomorrow morning, collecting from the hospital," she said.

"But that's not what we arranged!"

At this point there was, of course, a bit of a stand-off, as I knew I hadn't agreed to that (my husband has clinics all morning so I'd never have arranged something that would interrupt them!) She was adamant this was how it was planned and with a big sigh said, "So, are you wanting to rearrange it?"

"Of course I am!" I blustered, and suggested that we tried again the following Monday morning.

"No problem," she said, again checking my home address.

Monday morning came...and went...

This time, when I rang, the girl on the phone had no record of the car being due to be picked up at all. This despite us having received an email from them during the week charging us £84 for rearranging the collection date. (I know! We were being charged for them not turning up on the date they had agreed to originally!)

The week came...and went...

Eventually we got an email specifying a date (last Thursday) when the car would be collected. Would we prefer AM or PM? After 1.30pm, I respond.

Imagine my consternation when I found a message on the answerphone on Wednesday afternoon asking me to call about the collection. It was another company again clarifying the time of collection.

"Between 9 and 6?" he said.

"Erm...no - I'd said after 1.30pm?"

Grumble, grumble. Ok. "And collection address: Stafford?"

"Definitely not!" and proceeded to tell him our own address. Stafford is not even the hospital address. Just don't ask.

So, late Wednesday afternoon I am rearranging a company's schedule to involve possibly an extra 2-3 hours of driving in order to pick up our car. I wasn't placing money on their third attempt to collect it.

Thursday afternoon came...and went...

Surprise, surprise. But - to be fair - when I rang up this time the lady was profusely apologetic, realising that what she had on her screen had not been transferred to their driver's screen and thus he'd gone to Stafford.

I hope he enjoyed his day out!

Furthermore, within 10 minutes the lady's manager rang me to arrange whatever time I wished for the car collection, explaining again the error that had occurred.

This morning... they came!

Early!

(That bit wasn't so good. It's half-term and I'd anticipated more of a lie-in!)

And so, with regret, I watched my car being taken away before 9am. It has done us so well over the last three years, being super-economical and totally reliable. Had we been renewing a lease contract we would have got the same type of car again, but instead we have a new car to last us until my son learns to drive - a scary prospect on many levels!

The Old Car story would have been over at this point...but whilst I was out and about this morning I received a call on my mobile.

"I'm calling to arrange the delivery of your car," he said, quoting the registration number...

What you missed in September

When we lived in Zambia I used to write a letter home every month summarising what we had done and experienced. Given the last month's blog-void and life-rollercoaster I thought it was time for a quick revival.

Dear blog,

The last month has rolled past with barely a moment to catch our collective breaths. It turns out that working part-time, two mornings a week, can take up so much of your life that there is no time for blogging. This is not good, but it is exacerbated by the extra hours I've had to work in order to sort one particular client's accounts out. I'd rather not.

September 2012 has brought about one of those moments when you know you are getting older, moving on to the next phase in life. My first-born, son and eldest child (one person!) has started secondary school. He's taken the change completely in his stride. His mother was much more of a mess, worrying about her baby amongst all the big kids. Still - there is nothing quite like distraction (see paragraph 1!) to take one's mind off the big life-changes. I have dutifully taken photos in the front garden of the boy drowned by blazer and trousers that are a couple of inches too long.

His aunt commented on his hair ("he's going to love that photo when he's older!") ... which leads us into the other life-changing event of the month: haircuts. My son's mop was in desperate need of a trim and so, in a moment of despair that I would ever drag him to the hairdressers, I set up shop at home. (This means I sat him on a chair in front of the mirror in my bedroom and attacked him with the scissors.) He wants long hair, but the natural curls prevent it lying beautifully and it grows into a ball of chaos. Now I've cut it to be something approximating smart.

If his hair was a trauma it was nothing compared to my daughter's. She too wanted long hair and over the last year or two it has steadily grown down to shoulder length. When washed and heavily conditioned it looked beautiful, but every morning there were horrific knots which resulted in screaming and agony as I tried to brush it. I kept telling her the only solution was to shut up or cut it short. Astonishingly, she decided one day to cut it. Not believing her I left it 48 hours before sitting her in my (bedroom) hair salon. With many a deep breath I cut her a short bob - probably 15cm of hair falling to the floor. She looks so much more grown up, and best of all there are no morning tantrums any more!

Other childish events? I tried to organise a sleepover for my son's birthday party (in advance of his December birthday) and failed. I am planning my daughter's 10th birthday party, which is causing me marginally less stress...so far... I've also been to-and-fro to hospital appointments for her incontinence issues and met up with teachers, classroom assistants and speech & language therapists.

Perhaps the biggest time consumer has also consumed the most money. After three years the lease on our car has expired. If my husband didn't work such long hours he might have got round to ordering a new lease car through work but, as it became apparent that wasn't going to happen in a reasonable timescale, I decided that we'd have to bite the bullet and buy a new one. So we have - or at least it is ordered. I have to reassure myself that it is a great offer, a good deal, and we haven't been sucked in by the car salesman.

To add to the financial stress my husband has decided to invest in a trailer tent. Long-term this will be fantastic. Already the children are planning our holidays in Holland and France (Modern Languages week at school has set my daughter's imagination rolling!) but I have never driven a car with a trailer on. Lots more deep breaths and telling myself that it will all be ok! I'm praying for a glorious hot, sunny summer in the UK next year!

Both car and tent took up weekends of family time and hours of analysis (Can we justify the expense? Is this the right way forward? Will my son's 6ft tall rugby-playing friends squeeze in the car in 3 years' time?) but I am hopeful that we have made good decisions for the family as a whole.

Throw in some grandparents visiting, church responsibilities, orchestra practices, swimming lessons, dentist appointments and puppy training and you've jammed September about as full as is technically possible whilst still allowing time to sleep. Well, doze lightly.

Roll on October. After all, it must be quieter. Mustn't it?

xx

Swimming to victory!

"I can't believe she's been chosen," I say to my friend, a fellow mother. "I mean, with all her problems she struggles to understand instructions. And we've been doing swimming lessons for years and she's still only at Level 4. I know there are plenty in her year who are much better."

Thus I go to collect my daughter from a local swimming gala. She was chosen to represent her school in a competition against all four other village schools. I have blogged before about her learning difficulties and as I went to pick her up I expected little other than a wet, bedraggled girl.

Yet, just as these words slipped from my mouth, I spotted her through the window. She was grinning from ear to ear and holding up a medal and a certificate - First Place!

In here is a lesson for me not to belittle my daughter, despite all her struggles. Her friend said that everyone was shouting and cheering her on, as she swam the final and crucial leg of the relay that the school won. She was the hero of the moment... and her mother is unbelievably proud of her.

Well done, beautiful girl!

Wash, rinse, spin - the correct link

Oops.

The link in the last post didn't work. I had a brief moment of encouraging you to read my (not-quite-award-winning) story without actually being able to link you to it. I shall add it to my long list of items that are contributing to my astonishing learning curve when it comes to computers/the internet/blogging/social media/anything technological.

Here it is again: Wash, rinse, spin. Do leave a comment ... about the story, please, rather than about my technical incompetence: the repeated failures there go without saying!

My World Book Day success!

There are few things that drive me more up the wall than 'dressing up days' at school. This is mainly because I am told about them with little more than 24 hours notice (or so it seems). Even with notice, it creeps up on me unawares and becomes a last-minute panic. It is also because I am pretty hopeless and utterly unskilled in creating outfits.

Whilst I love books, I was dreading World Book Day (last Thursday) because it would - inevitably - mean that both my children would have to dress up. I am running out of characters who wear ordinary clothes. Harry Potter et al requires a cloak. Winnie the Pooh: a bear outfit. Daisy Meadows' Fairies: wings, wands and general ethereality. Children's book characters are, almost by definition, out of the ordinary.

This year, along with many schools across the land I have no doubt, I had to dress my daughter as a Dickens' character. She has never heard of Dickens, never read one of his stories nor any idea about who would be in them. In all honesty, I haven't read a full novel of his either. How many female Dickens characters are there? And how many of them are interesting, rather than just Victorian ladies.

We settled for her being a ragamuffin urchin with a flat cap on and torn T-shirt + leggings.

In contrast, my son's class have been reading Gangsta Grannie and so had to go as Gangsta Grannies or Grandpas. Not having read the book myself I had to rely on him to know what to do. He decided to go as a thief, dressed all in black, with a mask over his face.

"And green coming out of my bottom," he said.

This is a statement to make most mothers stop in their tracks.

"She eats cabbage," he explained, "and farts cabbage."

"Oh," I reply. I rack my brain to think of where I might find some green material to sew on, and scratch my head as I wonder how I'm going to do that with no hours left in my day.

Then: my eureka moment.

"Why don't we buy a cabbage and fasten cabbage leaves to your T-shirt?"

And so we did.

And why was this a success? (Other than placating my son, of course!)

He won a Headteacher's Award for his costume!

I like to think that I won it really...

A new addition to the family

As with most things, I give in to my children.

For ages they have been wanting a sibling (one wants a brother, the other wants a sister!) They also nag me endlessly about iPad, iPod Touch, iPhone, Kinnect and other technologies. So far, I have resisted. (Well, a combination of me, my sanity and my bank balance, depending on which option you choose!) In practice, I have given in to this:

Welcome Poppy!

Two days in and she is very much part of our family, although I haven't a clue what I am doing most of the time! She is, evidently, gorgeous and so it is easy to give in to her. At nearly 4 months she is quite old for coming to a new house but that also means that she is further on in her training than other puppies are. She is an all-consuming distraction from what I'm supposed to be doing - be it writing or children or meetings or whatever. She has slept well since arriving (two nights!) but really wants a lot more attention in the mornings than I am able to give her. And our adventure to walk to the post box yesterday only got as far as the neighbours' gate!

The name caused much debate. My husband and I wanted 'Pepper' but - as you can tell - we gave in to our children's preference. Surely taking ownership like this means they'll be delighted to walk her as she gets older. No? Me still?

And for the sake of equality...

Further to Wednesday's post, the next day my Son came home with two stickers: one for being 'Star of the Day' and the other for excellent handwriting.

If you saw his normal handwriting you would be astonished by that.

And he's passed his Grade 3 Trombone exam.

*lots of proud motherly thoughts floating around*


We celebrated with chips for tea!

A new month...

Writing Wednesday

"Mum!" I hear my daughter scream, as she runs across the playground towards me. "Mum! Mum! I got three house points!"

"Wow!" I say. "What for?"

"For spelling February."

And she promptly did. Correctly.

She beamed from ear to ear. So tonight, we celebrate!


(Perhaps this post is a cheat for Writing Wednesday, as it is about my daughter rather than me, but I can't let my pride in her achievement go unrecognised!)

Too busy for words

There are some weeks when I look at the diary and go...

Urrgghh!

or

Yer WHAT?!

or

And I'm supposed to breathe... when?

At least, after this weekend's endeavours, I'm not going to run out of marmalade.

How to make tedious homework easier

My husband is a genius.

Son was not a happy bunny. His English homework was long and tedious - in the region of fifty sentences to be written with the correct grammar (using subordinate clauses, in case you are interested). The prospect of sitting down and writing for sooooo long to get that done was likely to kill the poor boy off, and certainly to drive his parents to distraction.

That is where my brilliant husband stepped in.

"When I was your age," he said, "my friends invented characters and used them in the answers to their questions. Everything developed into a great story centred on their made-up characters."

Son looks at him skeptically.

"Think of a name," husband says.

And thus a lengthy conversation took place, as we went through names that we liked or didn't like, and eliminated ones that had already been stolen (Harry and Hermione weren't allowed). It was also preferable to be short - when it comes to writing homework, don't make anything any longer than is strictly necessary.

Eventually they came up with Jack. "Excellent - you can have a girl called Jaq as well. And her name is shorter!" Husband is really quite excited by this project.

"Or he could be called Cam," Son suddenly adds, "short for Cameron."

"Ok: there could be three of them." (I know: JK Rowling has done the '2 boys and a girl trio of superheroes' already, but it still feels right.)

With the help of the dictionary, the final names were chosen. So, if you are an English teacher to my Son in the future, look out for the special adventures of Jack O'Bean (a time-traveller from the early 1600s), Jaq Uzzi (with her machine guns firing jets of water) and their Chinese friend Cam Ping (who puts up tents). Somehow they will save the world again and again.

And save us from miserable English homework.

Five things I've noticed in editing my book

This is at least my fourth complete edit of my book, In the shade of the Mulberry Tree, which tells the first year of my family's adventures living in Zambia. Every time I finish I think, 'Great! It's ready!' Then I find more things to correct and re-write. Is an author's work ever truly complete? Here are some things that have astonished me about my writing this time.

1. Though I pride myself in my correct use of grammar (I blame years of repetitive practice at primary school), there was a run of chapters where I repeatedly used its incorrectly. Its = belongs to it; It's = It is or it has. I know this...but there are gaps between knowledge and application...
2. I have a propensity to write sentences without verbs. So, not really sentences at all, I suppose.
3. Certain words repeat many times. I removed a lot of 'somewhat's before this edit; now I have replaced a lot of showing with revealing. Sadly, I don't think I've managed to squeeze the word indubitably in anywhere.
4. I write a lot of lists with no 'and' to hold them together. Lovely commas, no conjunctive.
5. There is no room for sentimentality. I cut 1000 words by just hitting the delete button, but I'd really enjoyed writing that chapter! I would just like the Broccoli family to know that if any James Bond film hits our screens which is set in Zambia, my husband and I retain the copyright. (Or at least the bottle of wine that created such a fantastic film!)

And so, to end. My final chapter ought to be an epilogue. But then my penultimate chapter would be my final chapter and it has a really miserable ending. My final edit stage is to split the final chapter into two: a new final chapter and an epilogue. I hope it works!

Then edits done, all I need to do is send it off to publishers or agents. As a meerkat might say, 'Simples!'

(Oh, the irony: blogger spellcheck wants to correct meerkat to market...!)

Apples everywhere!

The only problem with modern Harvest Festival services is that we don't bring our own fresh produce any more. Instead, we bring tins and long-term food that a local soup kitchen/homelessness project/charity can use. Don't get me wrong: this is clearly a good thing, and I gladly give what I can.

But - it doesn't help me get rid of my glut of Bramley apples.

We are a little fed up of stewed apples. Our freezer is full. There's only so much apple crumble a family can stomach. And apple pie involves the major problem that (according to my husband) I don't make it like his mother does.

So yesterday afternoon was spent making chutney.

Firstly I made beetroot, ginger and apple chutney (as we'd had beetroot in the veg box this week).

It is a glorious deep pink colour and the ginger was a wonderful smell.

Then I made three times the recipe quantity of Spiced Apple Chutney.

Principally apples, onions and raisins, together with the (nearly) out-of-date dates and a huge pile of spices - coriander, paprika, mixed spice, more ginger and chilli flakes (as I didn't have enough of the other spices per the recipe). I'm glad I didn't put in the full spice quotient as it is quite hot enough as it is!

After bubbling away for hours on the Aga, then being bottled, this morning I am greeted with this:

Not only do have a delicious lunch to look forward to, but there's plenty of Spiced Apple Chutney presents coming this Christmas!


Now, to enter The Pink Whisk October Challenge I need to give you the recipes.
All I have learnt about making chutney is that you can be very fluid with your adherence to the recipe. Keep the basic proportions of 'dry' ingredients (why apples are referred to as dry I don't know!) to vinegar the same and any combination of fruit and spices can be made. For completeness:

Beetroot & Ginger Chutney 
A Nigella Lawson special!

500g/1lb 2oz fresh beetroot, peeled and finely chopped
1kg/2lb 2oz cooking apples, peeled, quartered, cored, roughly chopped
275g/10oz red onion, finely chopped
2.5cm/1in piece of fresh ginger, peeled and grated
75g/2.5oz crystallised stem ginger, finely chopped
350g/12oz soft light brown suger
1 tsp salt
1 tsp ground allspice
750ml/1pint 7fl oz red wine vinegar

The only change I made to this recipe was put some of the stem ginger syrup in as well as the vinegar.

Put all the ingredients into a large pan, in the order shown above. Stir to mix well.
Bring to the boil, then simmer for approximately an hour until beetroot pieces are tender, stirring occasionally to prevent it sticking.
Spoon into sterilised jars, seal and cool.

Keep refrigerated and use within four weeks (if it will last that long!).


Spiced Apple Chutney (remember: I made 3x this recipe from the BBC website!)

225g/8oz onions, chopped
900g/2lb apples, cored and chopped
110g/4oz sultanas, raisins or chopped dates
340g/12oz granulated sugar

Spices were - to my mind - excessive in the website recipe. I probably added a total of 60g of coriander, paprika and mixed spice (mainly coriander), a generous tablespoon of salt, a tablespoon of dried chilli flakes and an inch of freshly grated ginger. Divide that by three to be in proportion to the dry ingredients above!

425ml/3/4 pint malt vinegar.

Put all the ingredients in a big pan. Bring to the boil until the sugar has dissolved. Then let it simmer for 1.5-2 hours, stirring occasionally to prevent it sticking to the pan.
When very thick, bottle into sterilised jars. Seal and cool.

It is recommended to leave it for 2-3 months before eating, ideally in a dark place.

Hope you enjoy!