You know how it is when you go to bed feeling really woozy and looking forward to eight hours of delicious slumber time, but the moment your head hits the pillow you’re suddenly wide awake and counting all the sheep in the world won’t make a blind bit of difference and you either start worrying about how bleak your life is -when of course it isn’t-or you compose in your head your best ever blog post ready to type up in the morning. Well, the latter applied to me last night. I made the mistake of forgetting to take my latest book that I’m reading to bed with me, only because I couldn’t be arsed to pick it up from right under my nose, and if I don’t read in bed, then I don’t sleep. So instead of pointless sheep counting, I came up with lots of brilliant ideas to pop in a post. Do they still seem brilliant? No of course not, just as when you lie there worrying that because you forgot to pay the milk bill a couple of heavies from Unigate are going to come and demand you cough up the next day, but you don’t even give it a moments thought when you wake up in the morning. Everything just gets blown out of proportion when sleep doesn’t come. Small worries become huge. A bog standard blogger suddenly thinks she’s worthy of winning the Pulitzer Prize !
Actually, as sleep remained elusive, I had an idea for a novel brewing which I thought was a pretty damned good one. It revolves around different characters who are members of a WI. Every other chapter is about a different member, who has their own story to tell, and these chapters alternate with ones about the monthly WI meeting, or an outing, fundraiser etc etc. Now the last time I wrote a story was when I was ten, so as much as I love the idea for my book, the chances of me writing it are as remote as me ever getting over my fear of tackling motorway slip roads. Don’t get me wrong, like lots of people I would love to be able to write a book, but I know my limitations and besides my one finger typing would mean it would take like forever to complete. It takes me a life time just to write these posts which is so so frustrating!
I need to tell you that I have a bit of an infatuation with a well known novelist at the moment. If I were to write, I’d want to write just like herself. I just love Marian Keyes! How come its taken me so long to discover this very funny, just a bit bonkers and talented writer. I’m reading Making It Up As I Go Along at the moment and half the time I’m in absolute stitches. One of the chapters was about how she finds chemist shops fascinating. At last, I thought, a kindred spirit, as I too have a thing about chemists. I did toy with the idea of writing a post about the delights of Boots, Lloyds and our local Coop pharmacy, but then I’d be straying into the shady area of plagiarism and that would never do would it! If you get the chance, take a peek at her vlogs on Youtube. They are just so funny and yet she’s very open about the fact that she has suffered from severe crippling depression and has a history of alcoholism. She’s also very pretty and has the most lovely Irish accent. Oh, good lord, I really am infatuated aren’t I !
The other thing I was thinking of last night, and this is going to sound totally and utterly mad, but I was thinking that I missed my time in hospital. Let me try to explain. If you have ever been pregnant you will probably remember all the attention you got, but that goes once your baby is born and all the attention is lavished quite understandably onto the newborn. When I was in hospital I was looked after, cared for and people were concerned about me. Now that I’m pretty much better, which is just wonderful, I don’t have that attention. Now please don’t think I’m an attention seeker, I’m honestly not, and I would never ever want to go through that horrendous experience again and nor do I want to be back in hospital. That was last night though. In the cold light of day and although I’m so thankful for all of that care and attention, I want to put it all behind me now and get back to being the old pre-pneaumonia me.
Before I go, I must tell you that I had my first ever proper afternoon tea last week. I thought I deserved a treat so myself and two lovely friends went to the very fabulous and luxurious Whatley Manor Hotel near Malmesbury Wiltshire. The hotel and gardens are stunning and definitely the perfect place to relax and revive in. Service is as you would expect exemplary and friendly. Our afternoon tea was just so delicious. Fabulous sandwiches and homemade sausage rolls, light as a feather scones and the most beautiful and mouth-watering patisserie. I really can’t believe that it’s taken me to reaching the grand old age of 57 before sampling such a treat. How mad is that! I’ve decided that if I don’t become a successful novelist then I’d rather like to be an afternoon tea reviewer. As Marian herself would say – Now wouldn’t that be grand!
Until next time