your personal shopper...?

well...  january was an interesting blogging experience.  i'm glad i did the challenge, even if i cocked it up, cheated outrageously, and only managed 25 posts out of the 30 that should have been posted.  but i think i did ok....

there have been various brainfarts over the last few days that i thought, "oooh...  i really ought to blog about that..."  and then didn't.  nothing earth-shattering.  i mean, i didn't invent time-travel and then blow my nose on the formula, or anything, but just...yano...stuff.  and then, of course, i forgot it all.  well, apart from how much Debenhams sucks.  for me, at least.  i mean...  ok, here's the thing:

debenhams, as any Britisher will tell you, is a big shop with branches pretty much fucking everywhere.  it's a ubiquitous department store.  christmas 2009, i was shopping in there for a pair of slippers for my dear ol' dad (who, incidentally, is seventy this year.  EEEK! O_O ).  that, for a start, should tell you something about the sort of place it is.  but i digress.  they have lots of brand names in there, and designers designing exclusive ranges of...er...stuff for them.  mostly clothes/soft furnishings.  and usually with a price to match.  aaaanyway.  i was on the phone to my mum whilst i was looking for these slippers - quizzing her about size, colour and style - when i came across a set of Jasper Conran jammies.  now, i adore jammies.  i don't wear 'em in bed - i just like to loll around the house in them and fluffy socks and my beloved purple dressing gown.  particularly after i've just had a shower.  these jammies were--inevitably--purple...

...incidentally, please note the clever use of the em-dash there - just for Ciara....

...and i spent a minute or so squeeing over them to my mum.  i mean - i really, really liked them.  i could not, however, justify spending twenty five quid on a pair of jammies when i already have several.  so the JCpj's went unmolested. 
fast forward past the christmas shopping to the day itself.  what should i get in my christmas box from my aunty?  yep - you guessed it.  happy Squeaky. :) 
sadly, however, they didn't fit.  lovely aunty said not to worry, as she and mum were heading out on a sale spree just after christmas, and she would exchagne them for a bigger size.  but they didn't have any.  so they exchanged them for a gift card instead.

i tried to spend it.  i really, really did.  i looked for footwear, outerwear, dresses, costume jewellery, nightwear, nail polish, kitchen utensils, a hot water bottle.  they had nothing for me.  nuh-thing.

after a year of trying, i finally managed to spend it on friday.  on a set of bathroom scales and a small (purple) leatherbound notebook.  gosh - the excitement....

FFS!  is it me?  am i soooo hard to please?

or is it that debenhams caters to .....  well, look - i'm starting to get a picture of a typical debenham's shopper, and i'm sorry if you love the place, and the following description offends you, but this is just the image that pops into my head with increasing frequency following my frustrating experience.  she's in her late fifties/early sixties.  she wears uncomfortable-looking gold coloured shoes, and too much make-up.  her hair sports a bad (yet expensive) dye job, and she wears a lot of navy.  she carries a hideous, oversized handbag that features gold chains threaded with black ribbon, or diamante, or gold quilted fabric, or a combination of all of the above.  and she has a fairly commodious wallet.  i'm sure she's a very nice lady, but she really, really isn't me.  i have to admit to a feeling of relief that i won't have to go in there again any time soon.

ahem.  apologies.  that shop has been annoying me for quite some time, now....  :-/

in other news...  went climbing today.  took stepson number two (the one that hasn't made me a grandma), and it was fun.  he's never been before.  he seemed to really enjoy it.  he's expressed a wish to go back, anyway.  have to say - he seemed like a natural when we sent him on to the bouldering wall.  the only real trouble he had was with his stamina.  he's already pretty strong, and he's always liked climbing stuff.  and he has that typical Hibberd stubborn streak that makes him not want to give up on stuff when most would think "OK - maybe i can't" and cut their losses.  though, to be fair, both father and son admitted defeat on more than one ocasion, today, which was almost heartening...  ;o)

*giggle*  and he's just nodded off in front of the football.  poor love - he's had a tiring day...

writing news...writing news...  welll...  not much.  i'm going to do some editing on cirque du seul tomorrow.  and charley's still alive and...  er...  not exactly kicking, but he wants me to get some more of his story written, at least.  still not entirely sure what, but i'll see about that one.  CdeC, first.  oddly enough, that seems to be getting a little easier, now the two MCs have got it on, and the story's gaining a little momentum, too.  so looking forward to that.  think i'm gonna tidy it up, then print it out to give it a proper read.  i so can't read stuff properly on a pooter screen.  especially if i've written it.  the one remove of the printed page simultaneously gives me a little distance, and allows me to get further into the story.  habit of a lifetime's reading of the printed word, i guess.

i still want an e-reader, though.

camper porn and other news

so the last time i blogged, i believe i mentioned something about a bit of a catch-up.  really, it's just that there are one or two minor things i meant to blog about and just never got round to it.  what can i say?  i'm like good pastry - flaky.  however, i'll start with things uppermost and see where i go from there...

continuing the love affair with Talulah.  *sigh*

something we never thought about before we bought Taulah, something that never even crossed our minds, is that VeeDubs are rather special creatures.  yes, they are beautiful design classics, and iconic in their own way. yes, they are veeeeery fasionable (as, of course, they damn well should be - there are, after all, some people left in the world who have taste and discernment... ;). and yes they are, of course, camper vans.
and that's what we thought we were buying: a camper van.  a very pretty and well looked-after camper van, but a camper van, nontheless.  and, of course, we did.

however, stealing over us a little more every day since we bought her has been A Realisation.

Talulah is a Classic Vehicle.  one of those things you see at shows and on driveways, being polished to within an inch of their mechanical life.  and now, we've got one.  by default, yes, but we have one.

now we have to look after her.

oh, gods - we have to put fuel in her!

something we never thought to check is the rate at which these things drink fuel.  oh, my - Talulah is a thirsty girl!  she did 22 miles per gallon....  when she was brand spanking new!!!

ohmyjesusgod! 

so the plan was to use her in much the same way we used Isobel.  *cough*   kinda not really practical.  notwithstanding the cost in fuel and maintenance (hubby drives 40 miles a day on a filthydirty road that's caked in salt in the wintertime - EEK!), we don't want to wear out her poor engine.

Enter Plan B (no - not the band - do keep up)

there is a very nice old lady a few doors down from us that was my beloved and much missed Nana's best friend for over 50 years.  she's agreed to rent us some space on her driveway.  we are also buying a runaround from some good friends.  this little thing is about as generic as you could get as far as cars are concerned (therefore extremely cheap and easy to maintain) and, moreover, does about 60 to the gallon.

result!

so when the weather gets shitty, we will tuck Talulah up on her lovely cozy Tarmac (with a cover, natch), and use her only on weekends - to keep her ticking over.  and now, despite the fact that the vehicles in this family will soon outnumber the humans by a factor of 1.5 : 1, i don't feel the sliiiightest bit guilty about that.  no siree bob, i do not.  because sitting on that driveway a few doors down is all of our holidays for at least the next three years.  hopefully much, much longer.  and she is a work of art.

ok, i'm done now.  i promise i will try veryvery hard to not post any more pics of our baby.

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and so - in other news or, as it's more accurately known....

Random Stuff. *checks pic folders for Stuff I Have Done Recently*

several weeks ago, we went on a work outing to Stratford-Upon-Avon because...  well, frankly, it was a cheap day out, and we thought it would be interesting to go there and see how well we could avoid Shakespeare.  we did pretty well, actually, we did Pub, Shoe Shopping, and....

Making New Friends.

Hippy Hubby talkin' to teh animals

Squeaky and friend (look at the butterfly - not the face!  aaargh!!! *hides*)

The Art Of Disguise

seriously - how cool is this little dude?!

t'was quite a jolly day.  didn't do much, but it was relaxing.

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even more weeks ago, on a miserable, drizzly saturday, we went to Derby musem.  haven't been there since my grandad used to take us as kids, 25 years ago.  ever wondered what 25 years' wrth of dust looks like...?  nope, me neither.  i found out, though, as some of the exhibitions really were the same ones i used to look at as a kid.  there was some stuff in there that i was dreadfully bored by as a kid that was fascinating now, but that's to be expected, right?  oddly, though, and slightly worryingly, the most fascinating object in the entire place was part of an exhibition of stuff that was found in an old chemist shop before it was demolished recently.  viz, this:

i have a low pain threshold, and i hate having injections, but for reasons i have not examined too closely, i found this absolutely fascinating, and very beautiful.  i actually spent a good ten minutes with my nose pressed up against the glass, trying to imagine what something this delicate would feel like, sliding into my flesh...

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lastly (i'll tell you about the curtains and the slightly haunted sewing machine another time...) there is a new addition to our interior decor.  finally, finally, i have bookshelves of my very own.  my wonderful and clever hubby made them for me, and i cannot express how happy it makes me.  seriously - i actually cried when i saw them all finished and mine all mine.

*happy sigh*

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homecoming

she's here, at last - Talulah hath arrived! :D

look!

gawd, but saturday was a loooong-ass day! 

it started at 6am.  we had to get the bus to derby, catch a train to st pancras in london, a taxi to fenchurch street station in same, a train to stanford le hope, then richard (the lovely guy who sold Talulah to us) came to pick us up and take us to our new baby. 

then we spent a couple of hours alternately cooing over her loveliness, and loading her up for the journey to her new home.

yup, loading her up.

she came with a spare engine.  and sundry other spares that are, frankly, almost enough to half-build another camper.  result! :)

it took us four hours to drive home.  we made it at about 7:30pm.  then we had to get everything back out of Talulah, and up the stairs into the spare room.  hubby had to carry the engine block up on his own! \'o'/

but she's home, now, and soooooo shiny! (as you can see from the pic).

i would talk about the delightful day we spent at some friends' house yesterday, but the internet and my laptop have been playing silly buggers tonight, and it's nearly bedtime.  sometime soon, i'm gonna have to do a long catch-up post.

but not tonight.  so i'll leave you with a pic of richard and Talulah.  oh, and some strange woman who snuck into the pic and grinned like an idiot.  no idea who she is, but we only just managed to patch up the crack in the camera lens...

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new bike (as yet, nameless)

dear reader, it hath arrived!  the new bike is in da house, and poor Trob is no more. :o(

when i put the deposit on the newbie, there were one or two things that needed attending to.  it needed a new passenger footpeg, chain and sprocket (one of my favourite words, by the way!), new handlebar grips, and new throttle cables.  i was supposed to pick it up the following saturday, but the new throttle cables proved to be a bit of a problem.  according to John (of John Carr Motorcycles of Somercotes, Derbyshire the place the newbie came from), the cables would normally be on the shelf at his supplier.
however, continuing our pattern of luck with vehicles, they were not. 
saturday came around, no bike.  he said probably monay, maaaaybe tuesday.  so i waited, and twitched a little. 
monday?  no.  "We got a big box of kawasaki parts, but no cables." (thanks, john - really needed to know that...*more twitching*)  "don't worry though - they'll be here soon."
okaaaay....  tuesday?  still no. 
and they were shut on wednesday. 
tuesday was a fairly despondent day.  i (like the rest of the world) really, really hate waiting for stuff, and by now i was reconciled to saying goodby to Trob, looking forward to the new experience of (for the first time ever, dear reader) using a vehicle that was less than ten years old(!) i was excited, dammit!  i may, though, not have been quite so despondent if some kind friend (and you know who you are! *gives said friend a stern look*) had not mentioned the fact that the parts may have to be flown in from somewhere, and the ash cloud was still dancing in the skies above us, grounding all of the air traffic.
(btw - check out these beautiful pictures of the volcano and the Aurora Borealis! ^_^)
and so to thursday.  i had, by now, resigned myself to the thought that it may indeed be the ash cloud that was causing the delay, and i may have to wait days, or even weeks, for the Icelandic Volcano Gods to settle down again.  i was dealing with it.  i had also, optimistically and just in case, booked thursday afternoon off.  i fully intended to take it, too.  (i reasoned that if the cables still hadn't arrived, then at least i could pin down a short story that had blossomed in my brain in the middle of the night.  and, in my best Kirsty Wark voice, more on that later....)
i called the bike shop at about half past ten, with everything crossed.  "Oh, hi!  yeah - it's on the bench now - be ready in a couple of hours"

happy. dance.

in joy i went home, to wait for the call to say i could go pick up my new toy.  i actually got sick of waiting for the call and rang up at about half past three to be told it had been ready for an hour.  didn't care.  i had used my waiting time well, and had managed to pin down the first half of the story.  this made me happy.  and now i could finally, finally pick up my new bike.
i could tell you in detail about the experience.  the heat and sweat in my bike gear, the excitement, the lengthy process of transferring ownership of two vehicles at once (hampered by at least half a dozen phonecalls).  the bittersweet moment when i finally said goodbye to my faithful old warhorse of a Kawasaki GT750. (proud of myself that i managed not to cry, by the way).
but i suspect it would be of very little interest to anyone other than myself.  so i won't bore you.  instead, i will show you some pictures:

practically my last view of my dear old Trob.  holding back the tears.

(btw, the dent on the tank happened in the first year i had her - tried to set off with the chain lock still attached to the back wheel.  promptly fell over, and only a concrete post saved me from the deadly shame of being unable to pick her up by myself.)

shiny new toy!

...mmm...shiiiiny......

weird angle, rrreeeeally pretty disc brakes....

shiny FTW!!! (hubby has very sternly informed me that i may wish to keep her this way...)

so i took her for a little inaugral jaunt around a few local country lanes.  just to get used to the ride, you understand... ;o)

the difference was astounding.  riding Trob, i now realise, was like sitting in an old, battered armchair that has moulded to the shape of one's body.  comfortable, solid, stable.  maaaaybe a little creaky.  but familliar and beloved.
the new bike is a different beast entirely.  it was like moving from an armchair to a bar stool.  the centre of balance is higher, thus feels a little precarious for the first ride or two.  but then - oooohhhh, but then.

my, my, dear reader.  i may not be in love, but i've certainly got that glow.  the ride position is totally different.  from being slouched comfortably and cruising along (...um...apart from doing the odd ton down the A38 when i feel the need for speed...*ahem*), i have gone to being forced to actively adopt a racing position - leant forward over the tank (sometimes feeling like i've got my nose practically over the front wheel!), legs bent in a ready-to-spring almost-crouch, and, yes, a bit of a daft grin.  the throttle is so responsive!  the breaks are so sharp! (*makes mental note* will have to watch out for that...). and the movement.  this bike, i kid you not, moves like a dancer.  the balance, the poise... oh, bliss!  it makes me want to weave from side to side on straight roads.  i crave bends and potholes, just for the chance to weave my sinuous way around them!  actually, with this being far more of a sports bike than a cruiser, i have to go around the potholes.  the seat and suspension are sooo firm!!!  boy oh boy, is my arse going to be sore for a while!
but i care not.  New Bike is happymaking. ^_^

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just a quick word about the new story.  it's called Ink Devil, and it's set in a library.  as i said, i got the first half pinned down on Thursday, the rest of it came through yesterday.  and it's a bit...um...well, let's put it this way:  i love it, but i may have to wait until the blushes die down before i post it....

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nothing to see here..move along, please...

today, i find myself with a feeling that i appear to have had for most of my life.  desperate to write something, but with no idea of what to write. 

oh, the joys of blogging! 

to be able to write about nothing much if i so wish, just to assuage the desperate need to write!  at this point, i refer you to the note under the blog's title - please feel free to wander off and watch paint dry - i won't hold it against you - how do you think i feel?  i have to live in here.

when i was a kid and overtaken by this urge, i would get a picture book of fairy tales i had, and copy out the tales until the need to use paper and pen or pencil to make words was quietened for now. 
actually, now my mind is wandering off the path and wondering if i am cursed.  this thought tends to occur for many and varied reasons in my day-to-day life, but in this particular instance....a (fledgeling) writer, wants to write, in fact needs to write, but completely devoid of inspiration or the kind of mind that can pull together random elements and put them togethter in unusual and unexpected ways, and use it to tell a story to amaze/amuse/pull forth emotions/whatever.  also - a writer with nothing much to say about anything, if i'm honest. 

or maybe i'm just an inveterate chatterbox with a stationary fetish?...

hmmm....

well, anyway, like i said - less even than usual to say, but when did that ever stop me?...  the first stage of editing the WIP is finished.  i've fixed the spelling, the wonky sentences, and argued constantly with the spelling and grammar checker over whether or not a sentence is too wordy, or should/should not end on a preposition.

...by the way - WTF is a preposition anyway?!...

and hubby has read it.  this is a first, him not being someone who generally reads for pleasure.  and he says he enjoyed it, which, of course, pleases me immensely. :o)  he was also kind enough to point out one or two plot holes and inconsistencies.  these, i will file away for later.  having lived with the blasted thing for the last 5 months, i'm far too close to it and, frankly, heartily sick of the bloody thing.  it's a disappointment to me, especially after the first one.  however, i already have another couple of ideas settling into the silt for next november, so maybe i'll just leave them there, and see what occurs.  or maybe they'll make themselves into short stories between now and then. 

because i thought i might have a go at short stories next.

i know, i know - short stories are hard.  really hard.  and that's good.  i want a different challenge, and i understand short stories can be wonderful learning experiences  for an author a writer (feels weird and presumptious to refer to myself as an author - i'm just someone who wants to write).  personally, after this last one, i hope i can give myself a few lessons in cutting out the waffle.  it also means i'm gonna have to tune my brain in to the odd details of the world - the things that pique my interest.  a word, a phrase, a situation, an incongruous juxtaposition of ideas.  i'm going to have to have my writer head on most, if not all of the time.  it will be interesting to see if i can keep that little entity that sits at the back of my brain (on a three-legged stool with a pen poised over a reporter's notebook) alert, and watching.  i wonder what she'll come up with?  i also wonder if she'll notice things that i don't, and poke me as i'm writing?

gods, i hope so...

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thank all the gods! (and the local and Twitter friends, too!)

well, well, dear reader.  if you were on Twitter this afternoon, round about threeish (BST), you may have seen this:

RRRRRAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!! AT LAST! AT LAST! AT LAST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YES! YES, YOU BITCH!!! YOU DIDN'T DEFEAT ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

and, shortly after, this:

*************************EPIC HAPPYDANCE**********************************

that was the sound of me finally, FINALLY!!! finishing the typing up of the bloody WIP.  gods, but it's been a slog.  it has taken me approximately 84 days, and an awful lot of tearing my hair out to get this effing thing onto my hard drive.  i think some of the horror was partly due to my not believing in this one as much as the last one.  i realised pretty early on that it was flawed, and i almost re-genre'd the whole thing.  in fact, i rewrote about the first 8,000 words, in an attempt to do this.  that didn't work, either.  the problem was always with the beginning.  in fact, this weekend, i wrote up the most troublesome section (about 8-ish thousand words) using the simple expedient of just ignoring large parts of the original text.  there was actually a lot of rambling and place-marching in the first 10 or 15 thousand words, which was a big part of the problem.  so i just took a big machete and hacked at it until i could bear to type it.  it seemed to work

so, now, i have a big lump of story that needs to be carved into something readable.

this is gonna be interesting.

and, before i go, thankyouthankyouthankyou with big, massive GINORMOUS happyhugs to all of my local and Twitter friends who have kept me sane and encouraged me and distracted me from the horror of the typing.

love you guys! XXX

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