Home Thoughts Weekly

My lovely Dad died two years ago today. Pancreatic cancer is a stealthy disease; by the time the symptoms appear it’s very difficult to treat. In Dad’s case it was a bright yellow ‘suntan’, severe jaundice of course, which took us to casualty. Dad bore his illness with immense courage and dignity. He always felt deeply sorry for anyone he perceived to be worse off than himself – usually manifested by him shaking his head sorrowfully and tutting, ‘Look at that poor bastard’ until the day I had to point out that he was the poor bastard since no one else in the ward was as ill as him. From the day of his diagnosis to his very last breath Dad led the way and showed me how to face the unimaginable. I consider myself very lucky and immensely privileged to have had him as a father. The following verses were written after that first trip to casualty when I drew some comfort from noticing the physical similarities between us. Familiar Landscape Since this new journey may be your last, we lau...

Friday 25 May: Displacement Activity Okay, I now know that ‘very shortly’ means more than a week so I’ve taken to pounding the country lanes running off the nervous tension. At this rate I’ll be able to run marathons with ease! Whilst running I notice a ‘flat’ – my shoes have exceeded their mileage and it’s beginning to show. If I don’t do something about a new pair I’ll injure myself. Part of the reason I’ve hung on is because I love my Ascis 1110s and the chances are they’ll have been updated which will mean getting used to a new model. Back home I trawl the net and find a pair for a truly bargainous price saving me a whopping thirty quid. The only difference I can spot is that the colour has been changed and I shall now be bringing bling to the countryside with Barbie-esque silver and pink. Next day delivery too. Marvellous. Saturday 26 May: Glastonbury Update Needless to say there is no word on the book and my shoes fail to arrive. Pah! Plus I have to clean the house from top to bo...

Thursday 17 May: The Meaning of ‘Very Shortly’ After a little prompt I hear that my book will be looked at ‘very shortly’. In other words I have been suffering migraines, sleepless nights and mood swings wondering what’s been happening to my baby when the answer, in a word, is nothing. But enough, I must dismiss that train of thought because the latest one arriving at the station is ‘what does ‘very shortly’ mean? It’s like being a teenager again, waiting for HIM, to ring. Do I position myself between ‘phone and computer waiting for a message to come through or do I abandon the house in the certainty that someone is bound to try to get hold of me when I’m not there? In the end I settle for not doing very much except to quietly mad(der). Saturday 19 and Sunday 20 May: Down the M4 and Back Tom has six paintings to deliver to the Apple Gallery in Godalming (http://applegallery.co.uk) so we decide to see the folks back home whilst we’re down that way. Our itinerary ends up like this: - Sat...

Thursday 10 May: Struck Down Oh lucky me! This morning I have a double dose of the incredible multi-coloured migraine with psychedelic flashing lights and a hot knitting needle through the left eye. I’ve been experiencing the joy of migraines since I was about eleven and they’ve just become part of my life. They crop up during times of stress (like waiting to hear an important decision about a book!) or when stress is lifted (the classic ‘Friday night and holidays’ migraine). Certain food, stages of the menstrual cycle, bright lights, strong smells have all triggered attacks and these days – or should I say, nights – I even get them in my sleep. I’ve tried diets, medication, meditation, nasal sprays, and set routines, all to no avail. I’ll occasionally go for months without an attack or I’ll experience weeks of cluster attacks. The best that I can say now is that the pain is no longer so great that I feel suicidal which, in all seriousness, used to be the case during particularl...

I’ve realised this week that I’ve been so full of self-recrimination for not pushing on with Novel 2 whilst waiting for news about ‘Fighting The Tide’ that I’ve been forcing the process rather than looking inside for the spark that ignites an idea. Capturing the elusive element that breathes life into a project requires concentration, an ability to be calm and listen to the inner voice. The spark for ‘Fighting The Tide’ was kindled by my love of sleepy, seedy seaside towns and I enjoyed writing it so much that it’s going to be quite a blow if I don’t get the news I’m hoping for. And, essentially it’s the waiting that’s holding me back. Good news and I’ll be storming into Novel 2, (working title ‘Make, Do and Mend’ because it’s about making a mistake, doing something else and mending in the process). Bad news… well, no prizes for guessing how I’ll feel. In the meantime I’ve tried to press on and the results have been mixed! Thursday 3 May: My Study After years of waiting I’ve fin...

The Betty Ford Clinic have now discharged the Post Natal Girls aka Ann, Ju, Haze, Rosemary aka the Ace Gang (after Georgia Nicholson) following their weekend at Hotel H. Wine and chocolate levels became critical during the journey on public transport but picked up quickly once they got home. In addition Haze and Rosemary are now sporting patches to help them with their shopping addiction. Three hours in Fishguard, girls, how did you manage it?? Anyway the week at Hotel H has gone something like this… Thursday 26 April I drive down to Carmarthen playing ‘Clocks’ demo disc all the way. Their sound and this weather are a perfect blend. (see http://myspace.com/clocks ) I’m particularly enjoying listening to ‘Old Valve Radio’. Stepson 2’s lyrics are cracking now with great lines like, ‘It’s all miniskirts and cigarettes.’ The Ace Gang’s coach turns up but where are the Ace Gang? I start frantically wondering if I should be at the train station instead – sometimes it’s hard to keep t...

A funny thing happened in the Sick Bay last night. Lying there in my winceyette nightie with the candy-striped sheets pulled over my head I was pretty sure that Duck Flu, Local Paper Blight and Chronic Blogging Fatigue had seen me off for good. A peep at your shiny new blogs hadn’t helped; everyone had gone up a grade! Liberated from the Mothership, Purplecooers were celebrating with stylish presentation, fabulous photos and writing with a newfound sense of freedom. Was I even capable of setting up a blog or would I be relegated to the bottom stream forever? Then, to my complete surprise, I got the urge to lift my head from the Pillow of Doom, edge a tentative pedicured foot to the cold floor and feel my way over to the computer. Within a couple of minutes of experimental tapping I, too, was the proud owner of a brand new blog, proving that there is indeed, life beyond the Green Duck. Alas, I will not be boarding at Purplecoo. The day job has suffered badly and Tom is also showing ...