Should I Stay or Should I Go?

 Question. Should I keep saving for my old age, or should I just sell the house, take my savings in cash and blow it all on one (hopefully) fairly long hurrah, while there are still some hurrahs to be had?
 Tump, Brexit, Climate Change, plastic pollution and over-consumerism- the idea that our appetite for all things new is infinite- problems that aren't going away and which we seem unable to resolve in the interests of everybody, and not just those who see a buck or two to be made. I'd say God help us, if I believed in him.
 While Climate Change has been creeping up on us for a couple of hundred years, Brexit and the Trump sagas seem to have been going on even longer, with no resolution yet in sight. And even when they're over, there will be the inevitable post-mortems, documentaries and, God forbid, serialize dramas- as if we didn't suffer enough the first time around. I wonder who will play Trump? A steely-eyed, curled-lipped adonis or something nearer the current mark?
 I suppose it could be worse. No, actually, I know it could be worse. I haven't had to contend with losing my home and family in a wildfire or storm, so perhaps I should doff my hat to the Lord. I have, after all, a roof over my head, all my family intact and food on the table. I shall continue watching the Trump saga on YouTube with morbid fascination- it'll take my mind off the ineptitude here- and I'll try and be positive. But, perhaps I won't bother with that new kitchen.
 To cheer you all up, here's an otter

Refreshing the Soul

A couple of birthdays ago, my husband decided to buy me a camera- a Nikon Coolpics L340, to be precise. I wasn't sure I wanted or needed a camera, but I went along with it as it was better than the boxed set of Norman Wisdom films he once bought me (which is what you get in our house when you say, during an episode of Last of the Summer Wine, "Good grief, Norman Wisdom! Who'd have thought he was still alive!").

To be honest, I thought of the camera in much the same vein as the Norman Wisdom videos. After all, how many pictures of the dog would I need? For a long time, the Nikon sat on a shelf. Until I took it for a walk. It and the dog. We went down to the Land Yeo and I began taking photos of what was there- birds (tricky), bugs ( a bit tricky, until I worked out the macro settings) and plants (not as easy as you'd think when there's a breeze). I had a lovely time and the dog had a very long walk, and when I got the camera home, I had some good pictures and one or two great pictures. Most, though, were rubbish, but that didn't matter. There would be other opportunities and I'd get better pictures as I learned how to use the camera.
So, every walk ( if it wasn't raining) the camera came with me, and I took umpteen pictures of the -

birds, bugs and anything else that was interesting.
We went for drives just to take pictures. We learned more about the local histories. We saw beautiful landscapes, ancient monuments and gorgeous houses. But what I loved, what I really loved, was my own little patch of nature- the banks of Land Yeo and the creatures that live there.

When I return from my walks, I feel that my soul has been refreshed and I look forward to the next time I visit the place. I know my way around, now. I know where I'm likely to find the sparrowhawk, what kind of weather will entice the bugs out, whether I'm likely to see the second heron, where the owls might be hunting, and one day, one day I will catch the kingfisher off its guard and get a decent picture of it. I swear it laughs at me every time it flies past. At the moment, I'm photographing the stonechats and tits on the reed beds, and the egrets and herons (apparently, a second heron has been spotted, but I haven't seen it yet). I might pick up a kingfisher, if I'm lucky.

 Just before Christmas, I bought myself a new camera, a Sony DSC HX350. It has almost twice the zoom of the Nikon and takes much better photo's. It has a myriad of settings and I've only tried 3 of them, so it may take some time to get the best out of it. We've been to a lot of the nature reserves in the area and have got some splendid results and...a lot of dross. But it's all good practice, and, who knows- one day I might get a decent picture of that kingfisher.

Boxing Day 2018

 Well, we didn't win the £98million on the Euromillions last night, so I can't lend a helping hand to all the worthy projects and charities I'd like to support more effectively, including my writing career- which, at the moment seems to have ground to a halt. It's been a year since I added anything to my current project, or even completed a rhyme for my second volume of silly poetry. My mental energy appears to have gone off for a round-the-world tour, with no indication of when it will come back. I might have to let its room out, at this rate.
 Since my last blog ( April, I see!) we have lost Meg the wonder-dog. She fell short of her sixteenth birthday by 3 months, and went peacefully, a victim of kidney failure which, my vet told me, was not painful, but causes the patient to feel incredibly tired all the time. We had a lovely last day with her before, with the vet's help, we let her slip away.
 A few weeks later, a message landed on my Facebook page, asking someone to give a currently fostered dog a home, and as a result... we have Mia, a lovely German Shepherd/ Collie cross. She's as mad as a box of ferrets and is worried about my son (aren't we all?)- we think it's his dress sense that disturbs her, but it's early days yet. Lycra, after all, isn't for everyone, and on my 19 year-old, it is a bit scary.
 This time last year, I was in A&E following a suspected "coronary event". One of those Christmases one tends to remember, I think you'll agree. Anyway, to update matters, it took them until about June to confirm I haven't got a heart condition and the event was, as was my initial reaction, extreme heartburn. However, the plus side is, I eat healthier now; I've taken it as a warning, a shot across the bows, and I find I quite like dates and raw peppers- no, really, I do, even in the same container.
 So, there we go. I'll  try and stop by again for New Year, if not before, and perhaps I'll get round to replacing that Potty Poetry, Please . Don't, however, hold your breath.

Growned at Amazon

Just a quick note, mainly for Kindle users. I regret Amazon has again put a price on Growned, having already upped the price so they could put it on offer. I've now repriced it at 99c, which seems to be the nearest to free Amazon will allow permanently. For the cheapskates among you who seem to think everything should be free, I will remind you that Growned is substantially cheaper than a decent (or even awful) cup of coffee, won't make you fat and doesn't need recycling. However, if you are unable to persuade yourself to part with 99c (and I appreciate there are some in the world for whom 99c isn't an option) for a 40,000 words plus story, I suggest you make your way over to Smashwords, where you can download a legal mobi copy for free, and access a plethora- yes, a plethora (or even a surfeit) of free books by other new authors at the same time. You'll also find a couple of free short stories on my page there. And if you enjoyed your free story, then perhaps you can "pay" for it by supporting the author and doing a encouraging review.

Best Laid Plans

  Well, that didn't go how we thought it might. My plan to have an uneventful Christmas, that is. You remember Christmas, don't you? That blur of over-indulgence, crap television and forced bonhomie. Trying not to lose it with the Other Half or the kids. Yes, it's all coming back to you, isn't it? Seems like ages ago.
 We got through Christmas. We didn't over-eat, over-spend or over-indulge generally. The fact the pulling of the Christmas crackers was the most exciting part of the festivities puts things into perspective, doesn't it? Yes, we got through Christmas. But not through Boxing Day.
 Not caring that much for the Festive Season (it was fun when the P&J was small, but now it's just an opportunity to get some work done), I decided to strip the wallpaper in my son's old room. Nothing strenuous, you understand.
 The stuff was coming off easily, and except for going up and down the stairs a few times to fetch tools, it was hardly energetic. And then- well I don't know what triggered it. A tightening in the chest, a burning in the throat, pain in the jaw and cheek bones. Yes, I did, for just a few seconds, think This is extreme heartburn, but then it began to radiate outwards, and I knew what it was. Fortunately, I'd updated my First Aid skills last year, and knew what to do.
 So my husband and I spent the rest of the day in A&E, and the next day at the cardiac unit in the same hospital. We got home on the Wednesday with a pile of pills and the promise of further tests in the near future ringing in our ears.
  I have since been seen by Lipids (fats, if you're at a loss), who weighed and measured me, took more blood samples and then told me I was already doing everything I'm supposed to do re my diet. I was asked about family history, and I think the doctor had a genuine expectation I would be able to tell her what all my grandparents and great grandparents AND their siblings had died of.
 The following Friday I had a heart scan. That was weird in a very disconcerting way. The staff were lovely, and explained every step of the procedure. And now we await my fate.
  The two worse case scenarios in my view are- A) We can't find anything, we haven't got a clue why this happened. B) very much like every builder we've ever had coming to do a job for us- We've never seen one like that before (preceded by a sharp in-drawn breath through the teeth and a perplexed shake of the head).
  Anyway, whatever the outcome, all I can do at the moment is up my game- more fresh fruit and vegetables and less shop-bought ready-made stuff. More fresh fruit and vegetables and less picking when I'm hungry. More fresh fruit and vegetables and less oil recklessly slung into the wok.
  To make up for this broadside to my culinary adventures, I have bought myself a new wok. The vegetables look lovely in it- all those peppers, the garlic, onions. And they don't stick too much to the pan with only a little bit of oil to cook them in.
  I'm getting quite a taste for dates and raw carrot, garnished with a handful of nuts. I'd like to tell you I'm not missing chocolate, but I'd be lying. I cook biscuits for the P&J using recipes that require egg, so I'm not tempted by them (I'm vegan). And I'm trying to reach for the bananas and apples when the munchies strike, not bread and the peanut butter. Wish me luck. I'll let you know how I get on.

 P.S. Don't worry about the camel. No, really, stop worrying about it. There is no reference to it in the text. It was that or a picture of an ambulance.

Tidying Up (and missing blogs).

  For those of you who might care, I have created another blog at https://tracey-meredith-archive.blogspot.co.uk/ to enable me to archive material and publish other stuff that is not necessarily relevant to my career as a struggling writer. Book related stuff will stay here, but my gardening and foodie stuff will probably wend its way over to  Tracey Meredith (Author) Archived Blogs. Just so you know. The link is also below the list of articles currently on this blog.
 And apologies for my continuing lack of regular blogs- I have much to do and don't always have the time  or energy- or, indeed, any news.
  With regard to writing, the sequel to Barry and the Dinosaur King- Barry and the Robot Emperor- is at 15,000 plus words, and I hope to get some work on that done during this Christmas holiday. I am also hoping to finish the final edits on The Angel in Towerhouse Wood and Finding Richard, so that they can join Growned, Never put Your Hand in a Crocodile's Jaws and Barry and the Dinosaur King in being available as paperbacks. And there is a growing collection of silly poems which should form a second anthology in due course. So I haven't been entirely idle/gardening/reorganising, redecorating and repairing. And to those who have shown an interest and encouraged my endeavours, may I wish you, regardless of your faith, a peaceful Christmas and an equally peaceful New Year.

Tracey XX

Spider preparing fly for later