I’m official!

I went into my local branches of Waterstones today and guess what – my poetry collection, Petrolhead is stocked on their shelves between Homer and Ted Hughes which is a pretty good place to be.  Petrolhead came out last month but hasn’t been officially launched as yet as I was hoping to get the collection into Waterstones prior to launching.  Now that’s happened I can go live as it were – and Petrolhead will be officially launched as part of Droitwich Spa’s Arts 4 All event at the Norbury Theatre Droitwich on Saturday 6th March 12-4 though my reading time is to be confirmed.  The event details are here: http://droitwichspa.com/arts4all.htm  And there’s another poet reading too, Sarah James who’s also a local author and is due to have her first collection In To The Yell published later in year is also reading and exhibiting.  The more poetry the better.

Of course when I was in Waterstones I couldn’t help but buy some books so all I need now is the time to read them.

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I blame the Pantomime

More snow and it’s getting predictably boring, so last month in fact.  At least the bulb are starting to show their greenery so spring’s at least thinking about making an appearance at some stage.

On another matter been experiencing some upper back ache recently which I’ve put down to bad posture, too much PC/Laptop and generally having had two (beautiful) children.  So I’ve decided to try and lessen the load on my back as it were – so I weighed my handbag.  It was well over half-a-stone.  Now I’ve never got on with weeny bags finding them totally impractical and before anyone asks what’s actually in there (the relationship between a woman and her handbag is somewhat personal afterall but a proper tape measure usually features for one) I would like to state that it’s the pantomine’s fault.  Well, a particular pantomine I saw when I was at primary school, possibly aged 5 or 6, I think it was Dick Whittington.  One character had a wonderful prop; a sack, from which he produced everything all the other characters required in the telling of this tale.  That’s when I decided I wanted one too.  However several years later I think I should at least try downsizing.

I bought a small bag today.  I now have to detox the old one and try and live with the essentials.  It feels weird.  It looks so tiny.  Will I survive or will I return to my old ways?

Pink bikes and then some

A busy weekend.  We took our daughter to choose a “big girl’s bike” for her birthday which she was really excited about.  The frustrating thing is the lack of choice for girls up to about 7+.  Yes we knew the majority of the styles that would be on offer but we all had hoped there might be one alternative that wasn’t a pale, saturated pink.  She had her heart set on a deep purple.  Why oh why do these cycle manufacturers think that girls = pink and only pink?  But it’s not just the fact that weak pink seems to be the colour, though you might get a insipid blue if you’re lucky, it’s all the accompanied tinsel sprouting from the handle bars.  Believe it or not, not every female child likes everything pink, usually they like some pink and some other colours too.  It’s not a case of colour prejudice where pink is concerned it’s just the lack of choice and I will admit that sometimes pink can work, but it has to be used sparingly – after all you can have too much of anything.  Frustratingly the store we visited to look for a bike also sells motor accessories and they have a special section marked “Pink accessories” – why, oh why? Grown women also like other colours besides red and white mixed together.

Then they use white tyres.  Impractial for starters, they get dirty as soon as you look at them; are white tyres are the while stilettos of the cycle world?

Anyway, she did choose a bike and she chose a boy’s blue bike, (with conventional black tyres,) which we should be able to pick up on Wednesday, and yes she is delighted with her choice.

Post-Party

Phew, had  very successful party yesterday for our daughter and 22 of her friends. And it was at a local sports centre so no messy house to tidy up either.  She’s now very patiently or trying to, wait for Tuesday so she can open her presents.  Aren’t I mean?  Her younger brother also had a great time and ate sausges for England.

Friday saw me read some poems out loud for the first time in over six years at a new Open Mic event in Worcester.  It was  fantastic evening with friends, poetry and live acoustic music, and I’m told no one noticed me shaking.  They’re aiming to make this a regular event so I’ll keep you posted.

Party Time and then some.

Just about to start preparing stuff ready for our daughter’s 4th birthday party on Saturday – she’s so excited it’s untrue.  She’s planned the menu and what’s she’s going to be wearing – she’s far more organised than i am (and she has far, far better handwriting too)

On another note, my website has gone live, there are still a couple of additions, including a picture of myself, I’m in two mind about this as I don’t want to scare people away.  Anyway it’s up at http://www.poetrymaker.co.uk so if you fancy dropping by I’d love to see you.

Colour Co-ordination

An interesting weekend; we’d just arrived at our local garden centre when I noticed our daughter (4) had purple dribble coming from one nostril.  She tried to hide the evidence by wiping her nose on her sleeve but yes, she’d shoved a ball of purple sugar-type paper up there for some obscure reason known only unto her.  This meant a Sunday morning trip to A&E as opposed to the garden centre where the clump of paper which was probably twice it’s original size, was quickly removed.  Daughter was fine.  Interestingly she’d decided on purple paper as opposed to any other colour which matched her coat and boots.  Perhaps Gok might run with this ultimate co-ordination?

I mentioned this to her nursery when I dropped her and her brother off and one staff member told me a story about her husband when he wasn’t quite 1, shoved a pea up his nose which started to germinate.  His mum had been pea-picking in the garden and he’d gotten hold of one.  Wonder if this is where the expression pea-brained comes from.