You call this a supercomputer??!

Computer's kaput.

Computer is in the shop.

Computer is lucky I'm not kicking it repeatedly in the USB port.

Now be good until I get back, you hear?

In the meantime, muse on the slogan I saw emblazoned across a passing White Van.

"Who's Van is This!!!"

Bizarrely, it was actually the lack of a question mark that first gave me chills. The mangling of "Whose" took a little longer to filter through. The un-marked question begs the answer:-

I do'nt no and I do'nt caer?"


PS - my car is also kaput. Something playing silly buggers in the Electronic Engine Management System. Today is not a day for things electrical.

PPS - ever notice how when your computer breaks down, you suddenly have to fight the intense urge to buy a new one? Husband keeps mentioning our zero balance on the credit card, and how much I've always wanted a laptop and docking system at home. No. NO! *hits Husband on the nose with rolled up newspaper* Dang, I just remembered it's tax deductible.

PPPS - Mac users are not allowed to say, smugly, "my computer never breaks down." I know where you live, you know.

PPPPS - It was Husband's birthday yesterday, and it's mine in April, so we're treating ourselves this weekend and popping off to York and the Royal Armouries in Leeds. So even if the computer's a quick fixer, I won't be back online for a good while.

Ahhhhhhhh.....

Spring

Loreth was talking about spring being on the way in her neck of the woods. It's not quite with us here.

A couple of weeks ago, I was down in Shropshire, visiting Mum and Dad. They have spring - the blackthorn blossom is out, misting the hedges in white froth. The hawthorn is about to burst into vibrant green leaf. The daffodils are out, and the crocuses are gleaming like amethyst teardrops in shady spots.

Nearly two hundred miles farther north, though, it's really still winter, and I'm impatient for the change of seasons. The hints are there - the fields are about to change their tone, from a brownish, washed out green to the bright emerald of newly growing grass, and there are a few daffodils bursting forth.

But I want the hawthorn to break bud, and the other bulbs to bloom.

Come on spring. I've missed you.

Love is...

... cake.


There. Part of my Valentine's gift to Husband, a special meal involving Beef Wellington (a smidge too rare and therefore not completely photogenic!) and Victoria Sponge.

The residential was lovely, thank you! Chief memories are sitting in a tent by candlelight, while the darkened woods outside dripped with rain, reflecting on the day, and making trifle from leftovers, served in a saucepan. Excellent.

Oh, and we watched Gosford Park last night. Sela will punch the air when she reads this - I finally get Clive Owen. Yup. NOW I understand.

But I'm still not going to look at him in King Arthur more than I have to. So there.

Misc Weekly Catchup

The Wardrobe Rides Again
Brother would like to point out (in reference to our Valentine's Day activities) that things Husband and I might do for each other that come under the 'gutter mind' heading are indeed still practical and useful. However, if Husband continues to point at discarded items of clothing and growl awfully, "Put that in your new wardrobe!" when I am stripping for him, all such activity may well cease.

The Navel on the Middle of Nowhere
On Thurs I'm off on a team residential. The venue is rather remote. We've had three sets of maps and directions, none of which give instructions if you're travelling from the north. I am travelling from the north. One map shows a vast expanse of forest, three hamlets and a number of wriggling single-track roads, but does not mark the venue... I should be back on Friday night. On the other hand, I might never be seen again. I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to it...

Let them Scoff Cake
There is a cake conspiracy afoot. Everywhere I go, there's gratuitous free cake. Ordinarily, this would be a good thing. But I really want to lose some more weight pronto, and I'm not very good at resisting temptation.

To Do
I haven't posted my To Do List update this week. Please don't make me post my To Do List update this week. I'm holding on to the idea that I can catchup at the weekend. I may even clean the bathroom then, too. If I'm lucky.

Patience, Patience
Many people told me that the time between sale and publication date would fly past. It's not flying quickly enough! Waaaah! I'm so impatient, it seems like decades away. Especially with exciting things happening at Medallion Press on an almost daily basis.

See you at the weekend!

Wardrobe - Sleeps Four

Last night I dreamed about my new wardrobe.

This isn't as wierd as it sounds. No, wait. It IS as wierd as it sounds, but there are mitigating circumstances.

Every year, for Valentine's Day, Husband and I do stuff for each other (get your minds out of the gutters, now). Practical, useful stuff. Last year he dug the garden for me. This year he converted our old airing cupboard into a wardrobe for me.

Now, for all you US readers, you need to be aware that UK-ers rarely have large closet space. Usually there's just a freestanding wardrobe, or a fitted bedroom suite with hanging space for clothes. My old wardrobe was... well, insufficient to my needs. My new one is, to me, ENORMOUS.

I wish we'd taken before pictures, but we didn't, so I'll have to describe it for you.

Imagine a large, tall cupboard, spacious enough to stand inside, if it wasn't for the fact that it's piled to the ceiling with boxes. There's my wedding dress box in there, and Husband's famed Scalectrix set. There's boxes of bar towels (don't ask), un-used pictures, old boots, unwanted blankets and stacks of old pillows.

Now, take all that... stuff out, and see the rough-cut shelving, with traces of cement and plaster from a past life, still on the splintered wood. See the gappy, dusty floorboards, with the big hole where the new pipework came through. See the crumbling horsehair plaster and the cracked ceiling.

Husband has plastered, filled, sanded, painted, floored, carpeted and fixed countless shelves and hooks and things.

And now...





Ain't it purdy?



It has all these lovely, clever shelves, too, right up to the ceiling.

And last night I dreamed about it.

In my dream, I was remarking to Husband that if we were desperate, we could always use it as a spare room. Because it had a double bed (on the left, headboard to the back wall) and a set of bunk beds in it. "It sleeps four," I said.

I love how my lovely large wardrobe became even more massive in my subconscious.

Pure Indulgence

Well, I'm home, (actually I got home Tues night) sore but happy, having seen my ovaries with my own eyes. Well, a full colour photo of them, anyway. Wow. They're really.... white.

Now I have not only permission, but ORDERS to rest for three days.

I'm just going to pause for a moment to absorb the wonderfulness of that concept.



Ah. Bliss.

So, since I've been working really hard lately and because... well, because I deserve it, I'm going to have a few days of pure indulgence.

This will involve:-

1) Cake. I lay in bed in the day surgery unit, drifting in post-anaesthetic stupor, wondering if they'd have to keep me in because I take a while to come round, when I suddenly remembered there was chocolate cake with my name on it waiting at home. From that moment on, full consciousness was my goal...
2) DVDs. I may even watch BITS of DVDs. You know. Like Brad Pitt storming the Trojan beach. That bit in the Big Easy where wotsisface has his shirt off. All of The Transporter.
3) Cheese. I eat so little cheese when I'm losing weight. I miss it so.
4) Books. I'm currently reading Julie Cohen's Driving Him Wild, after devouring Kate Walker's Sicillian Husband, Blackmailed Bride. I also have Artemis Fowl to get acquainted with, and a clutch of books by fellow Medallion authors that Amazon just kindly delivered.
5) Bed. I did really well yesterday, but today I'm frankly knackered. So all of the above actvities may well happen while lying down.

What would your Pure Indulgence be?

Ten Commandments

I re-post these on a fairly regular basis, because I think they're worth the reminder.

Ten Commandments for Good Mental Health

1. Thou shalt not be perfect

2. Thou shalt not be all things to all people

3. Thou shalt leave some things undone

4. Thou shalt not spread thyself too thinly

5. Thou shalt learn to say no

6. Thou shalt schedule time for yourself and network support

7. Thou shalt switch off and do nothing regularly

8. Thou shalt be boring, inelegant and unattractive sometimes

9. Thou shalt not feel guilty

10. Thou shalt not be thine own worst enemy

Honestly, I'm doing pretty poorly at all of them at the moment! But... Ha. I was just about to put, "Must try harder." No.

Must Try Less Hard.

I don't believe it...

This is a momentous occasion! I have just sent off my MS of RUN AMONG THORNS to Medallion Press, correctly formatted in house style.

I have done this... *drum roll*... OVER SEVEN MONTHS EARLY.

THIS NEVER HAPPENS!!! I'm EARLY for a deadline!!!

Granted, the deadline's set to their production schedule, not how soon I can do something, but still. I'm going to enjoy this rare, and wonderful moment...

And all this remarkable, unheard of achievement is created in THAT chaotic space. Scary, eh?

(Note Cleo (tortoiseshell) and Chrissy (ginger) curled up together on top of the in-tray stack. They're wondering why I've been dancing round the office going, "booo-yah!")