I'm a heroine; get me out of here

Last November I took part in NaNoWriMo and managed to write 50,000 words of a novel. Come the first of December I put my novel aside to concentrate on real life that gets a little hectic at that time of year, and aside it stayed until a few weeks ago. Again an attempt or two to pick it up and get on with it weren't really successful so, in true Baldrick fashion, I came up with a cunning plan.

Setting targets or deadlines for myself never seems to work; I need an external stimulus of some sort. So I'm using Lent as that stimulus. In the past I've given things up for Lent or used it as an opportunity to be thankful; this year my aim is to write some novel - or do something connected with novel-writing - every day.

I began well but then missed four days - trip to Devon and rugby and general ennui - but picked it up again yesterday. My heroine, who was languishing in a lock-up, is waiting eagerly to see how I'm going to get her out of the pickle I seem to have written her in to, and I must confess to being rather curious myself.

Did Lent work?

So my novel-writing Lenten discipline worked very well. In all there were only two days when I didn't write anything at all although I did think about what I would write on those days. Anyway, apparently, according to Girlfriend who is a practising Roman Catholic - off the point for a moment, why is it so easy to identify Jehovah's Witnesses coming up your path? - Lent is supposed to be 40 days but it's actually more than that so RCs don't include Sundays. Or something like that. So by that logic I would have completed my Lent 'fast' easily.

However since Easter Day I've struggled to write on more than a couple of days. Which is very odd. I'd hoped and planned to maintain the discipline but somehow without that compulsion, rule, I don't know what you'd call it, I've failed miserably.

I was telling Husband this and told him he had to set me a deadline to finish the novel. 'Okay,' he said. 'Thursday.'

So ignoring Husband I'm going to try again to make sure I write a bit of novel every day. I shall report on here how many words I've completed daily - and it doesn't matter how many that is: the important thing is the doing.

Today I've written 469 words.

Words written today

699.

Lenten discipline

So it's the first day of Lent today. Last year I blogged each day about something for which I was thankful; this year I'm resolving to write some of my novel every day. Even if it's only 10 words.

There's nothing religious or even Christian about my decision; it's just that the Lenten discipline seems to work for me. I seem to be able to stick to things better than if I set my own targets at random. I have no idea why it should be so but it's worked successfully in previous years so I'm going for it.

It's 9.30 pm now and I've only just done some novel writing but I managed about 600 words so that's cool.

We'll see how it goes ...

P.S. Maryb has a great post about Lent again this year. She's a fab writer and well worth visiting.

Happy Easter!

For the final in my Lenten thanks series, what could be more appropriate on Easter day than a celebration of the very special new life that is GrandDaughter's?

GrandDaughter about 5 hours old.About two and half weeks old.
Nearly 7 weeks.
Three and a half months and demonstrating great fashion sense! Unco-ordinated? Moi?
And on April 1st, who has Granny wrapped around her little finger?

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I've just looked back through my Thanks and, hey, there have been some odd ones! But do you know I haven't said thank you for chocolate? Or David Tennant. Or Doctor Who. Or cream teas. Or living by the sea. Or the sea itself. Or wider extended families. Or bananas. And loads more things.

But today for my last but one in the series I want to say thank you for my happy pills.

I was suffering intensely with anxiety that was turning into depression and making life miserable for me and my family. Anxiety controlled me; it was as simple as that.

I'd consulted the doctor and been sent to a counsellor. She gave up on me.

I'd been prayed for and felt guilty because it didn't cure me.

Eventually the doctor took me seriously and put me on Seroxat. I can say without any question that the little white pill changed my life. I have a chemical imbalance that is corrected by my happy pill.

And life's great. And sometimes God works in mysterious ways.

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It's absolutely ridiculous; there's no sense to it. How can there be something, a being, so huge he can hold stars in his hands? And how can this same being know how many hairs I have on my head? Why would he engrave my name on his hand? How can he be outside everything yet living in me? How can he be one God yet be three but is still one? And what's with this he was here before time and will be here in the future and is, in fact, here right now? And he's in Japan as well as in Swansea, and in Mexico and in Russia? And if he's so wonderful why doesn't he stop child abuse and earthquakes? And, oh, it's all such nonsense.

Eternal, immortal, omnipotent, omniscient. It's just too much.

It's absolutely ridiculous; there's no sense to it. That a being so huge he can hold stars in his hand would become man and die a horrendous death on a cross. For me.

I know how stupid it sounds ... and I'm glad. Thankful that it isn't sensible and logical, that it doesn't make sense. That the message is for all, not just the wise who can understand and explain and find an answer for everything. It's for the simple who still know how to trust and for whom faith is enough. For those who see love in action and are grateful for it, thankful that it doesn't exclude them.

It's not about taking out your brain and leaving it to one side: it's about questioning and not finding satisfying answers but knowing the assurance of love, a love that doesn't give up, and coming to the conclusion that it's for you.

Thank you, Jesus, for taking my sin to the cross with you.

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I'm late with yesterday's thanks.Girlfriend has been part of our lives for nearly 6 months now, and she's a delight to know. She's always bright and cheerful with a lovely smile. She gets as excited as I do about silly things and she's brought something special to Younger Son's life. It took him a long time to find a girl he could be himself with and Girlfriend, with her exuberance, balances his quieter more laid-back approach perfectly.

She's been a good influence on him: they go to the gym, climbing and diving together whereas he only went diving before. They have the same interests and both want to travel. If only she could get him to tidy his bedroom ...

They said yes!

At the end of February Husband received an email saying there was to be another voluntary redundancy scheme in work. He sat down, did his sums and decided we could afford it so he applied.

A few weeks went by before he heard from his boss that senior management had, after much arguing and with much reluctance, agreed to pass his application on to the relevant people.

Last Friday he had the email saying he'd got it. Yay!

After working away a lot over the years, he's spent the last year working from home. He hasn't been enjoying work for some time and has been longing to retire and enjoy himself in the garden. And he was 60 last December. If his application had been refused he would have been one disgruntled employee; as it is he is a very happy Easter bunny.

Officially he finishes at the end of April but he has this week off and isn't planning on doing much between now and then. He is absolutely delighted.

Me, I'm a little ambivalent. I'm thrilled for him and having him at home won't be strange as he's been constantly on the premises for the last 12 months. I am a bit concerned because ever since he applied he's been saying, 'You won't be able to do/buy/enjoy that: it's too expensive!' But we'll cope.

No, the real reason for my uncertainty is the larger step it means. The change from employed to retired and all that implies. Getting old I suppose.

But my Lenten thanks 42, for yesterday, is for Husband's coming retirement.

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I’m really thankful that I started going to Thrive circuit training several years ago. I was wary at first but enjoyed it so now go twice a week. Enjoyed? Is that the right word? I enjoy the 3 minutes of relaxation we get at the end; I enjoy coming home and eating dinner; I put up with the pain of exercise.

I would have written this last night after Thrive but I couldn’t get up off the sofa.

We began a new circuit and it includes hill climbing, which means an exercise bike at top resistance, and standing to pedal for 1 minute. That probably sounds easy peasy to cyclists and anyone who hasn’t done it but by the time I got off my legs had turned to jelly. I had to run a couple of laps just after and I honestly thought my legs were going to collapse under me.

But I’m thankful I started going and that I continue to persevere. I don’t feel as if I’m getting any fitter but, at least, it must stop me getting unfitter, which I surely would be without that twice-weekly exercise. My life is so hectic at the moment I don’t even seem to walk George all that often.

And, of course, I’m thankful that I can still exercise, that my body hasn’t seized up altogether. (Although last night the evidence was to the contrary.)

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My baby is 25 today!

He's currently midway through a degree course and is aiming high and doing well. Like me he's willing to work hard at things he enjoys. Also like me, he tends to be easily distracted!

He's obviously gorgeous, as all my children are, and is funny and creative. He's quite quiet - except when he's drunk. (The good thing is that he's a very cheerful drunk!)

He's an inventive cook, reads a lot and knows more about Harry Potter than any person I know. We've come through some trying periods and emerged unscathed. It's taken him a while to find his way in life but he's on a good path now and has dreams that he's working towards. Like his brother he didn't rush into relationships but now seems to have found a like-minded spirit.

All in all, I think life for Younger Son at 25 is looking pretty good

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Today I'm grateful for ... my job. Yes, I know I grumble about it, and I've even been known to say a word or two about my bosses but that doesn't mean I don't value it.

It all started a long time ago. I don't remember exactly when but I was at a low point. I think it was coping with babies flying the nest along with the ever-increasing anxiety Ifrom which I was suffering. My friend, Janet, who was Linden's administrator then, asked me if I could help her with a few things. She meant on a weekly basis and that she'd pay me.

As the church grew and its activities increased so did the administrator's workload, and eventually the Trust took me over, so to speak, as Assistant Administrator and paid employee. I've carried on, with growing responsibilities ever since, until last year, when Janet retired and I became Administrator-in-chief (not really -in-chief). It's a part-time job, 10 hours a week, and it's just enough for me. Enough to keep me sane but not enough to drive me mad.

And really I owe it all to Janet. She saw the state I was in and 'created' a job for me, paying me out of her own money, and always being on my side. We've had ups and downs as boss and employee but our friendship has survived.

Like any job there are bits I like more than others. I enjoy the creativity of the movie notices, posters, magazines and such; I dislike insurance, invoices and, I suppose, most administrative jobs. Really it's a good job I was doing the job before I was taken on by the Trust: nobody in their right mind would pay to be an administrator. I wouldn't even get to the interview stage.

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Yesterday it was George so today it has to be Harvey.

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I'm really thankful for Wednesdays.

It's the day of the week when I don't have to be anywhere or do anything at any particular time. So it always feels like a day off!

Although I enjoy the things I have to do and the places I have to go, not being restrained gives a certain freedom. I usually spend the time cleaning or something just as boring but that's okay. I can slob around doing it. (And keep popping back to the puta to share my thoughts with the world!)

Hey ho, hey ho, it's off to work I go ... in a minute. Or four.

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George. No need to say more.

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I am really grateful for people who commit to things - and then stick to it! People I can rely on like Janet and Di, who do what they say they will.

It's increasingly rare these days it seems. Even in church, getting people to commit - and hang on in there when something that appears more interesting comes along - is hard. Someone once told me to never expect anything of anyone because then 'you won't be disappointed.' That is such a disconnected way of looking at life - I was going to say cynical but the person who suggested it was an elderly and very sweet lady without an ounce of cynicism in her - and one that goes against my nature.

I am trusting (probably too trusting). I believe what people say to me. I assume they're going to tell me the truth. And I expect people who say they'll do something do flipping well do it.

(Sorry, I'm trying to put a rota together and, as I wrote on Facebook, I might as well cut out the middle man and go straight to banging my head on a brick wall.)

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I'm very thankful for Daughter-in-law. She's beautiful and intelligent. She's gentle and caring. My brother-in-law described her as 'charming'. She's softly spoken and appears calm but I suspect that, like me, she frets about things. I want to say that we love her just as she is and that we're delighted to have her as an important part of our family.

I've written about Elder Son being indecisive and soft. I used to worry that he'd end up engaged to someone terrible because he didn't want to upset her. I'm so glad he waited and found the right girl for him.

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It's got to be rugby, the game, the passion, the spirit. It's not like football where supporters of opposing teams are separated - just as well too as we were with Younger Son and Girlfriend who happens to be Italian. It would have been terrible if she'd had to sit in a different part of the Millennium Stadium!As it was we found ourselves in a section that was mostly Italian. Except for the loud-mouthed Welsh morons behind us. I suppose in a crowd of seventy-odd thousand there are bound to be some but it was, as Younger Son said, enough to make you support Italy.

I'm not sure why this contingency of Italian supporters was in bathrobes ...
This is James Hook just about to score a try. Excuse the blur: it's hard to keep a camera still when you're jumping up and down.
Wales won the game but really the best bit of the afternoon was probably the singing of Bread of Heaven.

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Oh dear, I seem to permanently be one day behind in my thanks.

In Zac's and in prison I see some of the results of drug and alcohol addiction. Thankfully I don't drink and I've never used illegal drugs. I say thankfully because knowing how impossible I find it to resist Maltesers it might have been easy for me to go down the same road. I'm not making light of addiction.

As a young mum bringing up three children, there were times when I thought, 'I wish I drank because I could do with a drink now.' Lots of mothers will have felt that and most will have not become alcoholics, but for a proportion of the population it's not that easy.

That's why, I'm grateful for people like Furtheron. He's an alcoholic who hasn't had a drink for a number of years. (He's writes openly on his blog so I'm not divulging any confidences.) Now when he attends AA meetings he is able to support others who are struggling. He and other like him who know what it is to have been to the very edge are the best ones to stand alongside the desperate. They understand.

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I am so thankful for Elder Son (seen here with his new niece). He's funny and gentle and thoughtful. He's supportive and encouraging to me. He's quiet in company he doesn't know well and doesn't make loads of friends easily but his friendships are real and solid although his easy-going nature sometimes means he gets taken advantage of.

People who know him have said he's so laid-back he's practically horizontal. He doesn't get ruffled and is a very hard worker - he works ridiculously long hours in London. He's clever and thinks deeply but don't ask him to make a decision!

He has a very sensitive nature and tends to bottle things up except when he's at a rugby match. He's creative and has more ideas and plans and dreams than anyone I know.

He was very fussy when it came to girls - 'Isn't there a single girl in the whole of Birmingham university that you fancy?' - but he knew what he wanted and he found her.

I also happen to think that he's extremely handsome but I would say that, wouldn't I?