After a good dinner, one can forgive anybody, even one’s own relations. – Oscar Wilde
In my family, my gran is the best cook. I am… well…in my mind, adequate. I quite like to cook but I don’t follow recipes to the letter, and I will swap out objects for what I have available, sometimes that works very effectively other times, it can be a bit of a disaster. My husband is the opposite, he stubbornly follows recipes to the letter. Normally I am juggling, cooking, cleaning, shopping, work, childcare, etc, so I am happy to make do with what is at hand.
I feel the biggest pull towards writing historical fiction and the focal points of my novel are usually women from a historical period. I find it a thrill to give a voice to the real-life events that surround them and although written from a modern-day perspective, I tend to focus on the key emotions most women can relate to, love, hate, fairness, motherhood, romance, persecution etc.
Nothing in life is to be feared – Marie Curie
As a family, we love to visit castles and museums. I love to find stories that really capture the strength of character. We recently visited the Yorkshire Museum of Farming (which is very interesting). In amongst the many stories of men (Ford, Massey, Harris, Ferguson, Deere, etc), there was this brilliantly intriguing story of Lady Evelyn ‘Eve’ Balfour who bought her own farm at the age of 21 and began studying the chemical compounds of farming and led the way in more natural-less chemical-based farming.
How had she got here? Her mother always told her she had the worst taste in men. So she had decided to try something new, so here she was.
She sat across the table listening. Listening… Listening…
Don’t glance at the clock, don’t glance at the clock.
3 Minutes left. Dammit, you glanced at the clock. 3 more minutes being harangued by this guy.
She nodded politely. Took another sip. Another guy with no interesting properties she could quantify.
Why was she doing this to herself?
Blimey, they loved the sound of their voice, didn’t they?
Buzzzzz
Thank god.
She glanced at the next guy approaching.
“Hi there.”
“Hi”
“Do you want to tell me a bit about yourself?”
“Well, I am Jack,” taps his name badge. “Which is the perfect name as people would refer to me as a jack of all trades.”
Nervous chuckle.
“Oh, that’s interesting, in what way?”
“I’m currently looking into creating a new app that will help low-cost families, it searches the supermarkets’ deals for that week and creates the lowest cost menu for them.”
“Wow, that doesn’t really sound jack of all trades.”
“Well, I’m also gathering together a team of savvy elders who are putting together old-style hints and tips to help the next generation.”
“Wow. That’s impressive, makes my life seem pretty boring. All I do is go to work and come home.”
“Oh, I never asked, what do you do?”
“Oh, I am just a software engineer.”
“Really, you might be just the person I am looking for actually. I do have some software algorithms I’m struggling to figure out.”
“Erm..” she paused.
“You would be helping people and… well, it would be a good way to get to know each other.”
Buzzzzz
Oh no.
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
He smiled and ticked his sheet as she ticked hers.
Maybe she’d finally figured out what she wanted her taste in men to be… and maybe her mother would give her some peace at last.
Intelligence is really a kind of taste: taste in ideas
His alarm pounds noisily yet he struggles to rouse himself. So, I nudge his arm and he groans, stretches out and turns the noisy contraption off. He rolls back towards me and smiles. He reaches out his arm, scoops me towards him, pulling me in from a warm snuggly hug. Morning beautiful.
I appear downstairs after getting washed and dressed, on the side is a hot cuppa waiting for me.
A note sits on the sideboard.
Dog walked, bins put out. Enjoy your day x
And I did.
This week’s prompt for WQW was love/romance. I had so many romantic tales I started to write, indeed it would seem so simple to live vicariously through some epic love saga. But I was a bit perplexed, something held me back and I realised for me the most romantic gestures my husband do are the small ones. The day to day things that make you feel loved, a snuggle, a cuppa, a message with a kiss.
Sadje’s WDYS post this week is about things you would like to do before you die/go to that yonder side and mine are generally travel-related, places I’d love to go, things I’d love to see, but I think primarily it would be for my husband to know just how much I love him and just how happy he makes me.
“When she was doing other things—schoolwork, chores, exercising—Madi had to work to keep herself interested. Writing was the opposite. Finishing a blog always left her more ‘full’ than empty.”
― Danika Stone
I write for myself, I write for my pleasure, I write to create Something I can treasure.
I write to have been I write to be seen I write to meet others Whose knowledge I can glean
I write for expression, I write to escape, I write to explore The ever-changing landscape
I write as my passion, I write to feel free, I write to show the world A little piece of me.
When you enjoy what you do, work becomes play. Martin Yan
Why do you write?
My friend Hui told me the greeting for Chinese New Year is “Gong Hei Fat Choy” (apologies if I have got that wrong) which I think translates to something like “wishing you prosperity”. So to all those beginning the Chinese New Year Celebrations for the Year of the Tiger, I wish you prosperity.
Last week, I took my little guy on an adventure. As we become more mature, it’s very easy for our lives to become more prosaic. My journey didn’t quite go to plan but in an odd way, it still captured my heart.
Akiane Kramarik eyes of a child quote
Mama’s Day:
Train arrived 5 mins late
Train then broke down – 39 minutes late
Missed transfer
Had 4 minutes to quickly get on the next transfer, hauling bags, buggy and slow-moving small human across a crowded and unfamiliar train station.
Wait 30 mins for a bus in the dark
Heard Blippi sing “I’m an Excavator” song in abundance (and refusing to quit playing in my head, long into the night)
LJs Day:
Got to see loads of trains at the train station then got on one!
Train started going backwards and the driver kept speaking over the tannoy.
Got to see loads more trains at another station.
Got to eat sandwiches and a gingerbread man.
Got to watch Blippi.
Watched Mama puff and pant her way across a train station, although not impressed she didn’t let me put the train ticket through the twirly machine.
Another train – woohoo.
Got to see loads of buses at the bus stop, even double-decker ones!
A bus ride in the dark.
Got to stay up way past bedtime.
Snuggled up in our quilt at bedtime about to drift off to sleep, he told me he’d had the best train day ever
Summary: See the world through the eyes of a toddler!
He sat at the table. He quickly tugged at his shirt cuff. Tucked an escaped curl behind his ear.
He glanced down. Two cups, identical, facing one another.
Should he go get another cup?
No, procrastination, wouldn’t help.
This was going to be harder than he thought, putting himself out there.
He was more of a keep-it-to-yourself than a heart-on-your-sleeve type guy.
Still, he knew he had to do this. It was time.
“I need to start this with an apology. I’ve neglected you…. a lot. I’ve suppressed my feelings. I’ve often forgotten about you and put others above your own. I know it’s got to stop. I am going to take steps towards that. This year, you will be a priority. I know it’s not going to be easy, but I’m determined.”
He looked into the mirror and nodded.
The time for self-loathing had stopped. Self-appreciation would begin now!
Time spent in self-reflection is never wasted – it is an intimate date with yourself. – Paul TP Wong
Samantha looked at the teaspoon. It had been her grandma’s. A treasure containing a story. Her grandma had stolen it from a rich family she had worked for. They never noticed, she would say with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. Too much money, she would then say adding a tut. Whenever anyone important was round for tea she made sure to give them the good teaspoons.
Her grandma had been a kind woman. Smiling, sweet and loving. She had been a hard-working young woman until her family came along, and then she worked harder still at the more crucial job of wife and mother. It was when she was a grandmother that she shone though. She taught her grandkids everything, how to cook, clean, grow edibles and take good care of one’s appearance, all whilst smiling and laughing. Her grandchildren loved her for it. It was a cliché, they were not rich with material goods, but they were rich in love.
Samantha sighed and put the spoons in a “to keep” box, wondering what she herself would leave to her grandchildren one day.
Nostalgia is a bittersweet emotion; it entails the act of recalling complicated memories of bygone days.
New2Writing 