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Never too busy to be beautiful
Never too busy to be beautiful…….I wish. I can’t speak for Hazel of course; she is in Florence researching our book on Angels, but “Bobbie’s Glow” is certainly wearing off on me, (see earlier blog).
It has been a very busy time for us so no time for blogs. Not that this matters, the blogosphere has become saturated……it seems we are blogging each other to death. In fact blogging seems to have turned into a kind of self-therapy, transfer your anxieties to the blogosphere and you emerged cleansed and pure.
Anyway, I digress. The real reason for the absence of blogs is that we have been busy promoting our latest book and moving offices, (admittedly not very far from outside the house to inside, but it was a huge undertaking). We found we couldn’t contain our ideas in HQ above the garage and have now taken over a nice big room in the house formally inhabited by my children, (out went the art materials, the hockey sticks and the cupboards full of unidentifiable junk. The A Level text books have been firmly tidied away, (please god no re-sits) and we have all our research material laid out for our next push forward.
I had no help doing the actual moving despite having able-bodied family members. One was in Magaluf and one had had a knee operation. Ten days in bed being looked after by Mum. Once upon a time hospitals dealt with ice-packs and three meals a day themselves, now you are practically tipped out straight from theatre onto the pavement with the threat that if you bed block for even a second you will get flesh-eating disease or MRSA. It saves money, that’s for sure but someone has to take up the slack and that person is usually a woman.
I got my dear boy to dust books during his convalescence but he wasn’t too keen. “Why have you got so many books by John Betjeman?” he said aggressively. I used to embarrass him by putting on spoken word CDs in the car when I picked up him and his mates after ruby practice and test their general knowledge. (A bit iffy, although they all recognised the poem about friendly bombs falling on Slough).
My daughter said, (or rather “informed” me), she would only assist with the cleaning out if she “needed to buy something”.
So there I was womanfully carting boxes in out, in out, shaking it all about, much as MPs after the election.
Hazel’s mother was very ill and then died while this was going on so Hazel was out of the picture. If you work from home there are always back stories that intrude, or would it be extrude? And these stories are always exasperating, painful or guilt inducing. When we started up Fox & Angel all our mothers were alive. Jenny’s went first, and now mine is the only one left.
Anyway we are all set now. While Hazel is in Italy I am cracking on with our screen-play “Fly Away Ladybird” about a woman who is accidentally admitted to a psychiatric hospital and find she prefers it to living with her family. Since if you are a writer everything is copy this play is more or less writing itself.
There is a question lurking at the back of my mind though……if I nip into Fenwick’s will Bobbie Brown have in a new consignment of my favourite orange lipstick?
This entry was posted on Monday, August 23rd, 2010 at 8:44 am and is filed under Politics. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.