So ..I have written a book for kids, what next?

The simple answer would or should be, write another one. And there are five or six books written but not edited sitting in a neat queue somewhere in my desk.

However, I am stuck on the marketing and shouting about the first one.

If I constantly blog about it, – am I seeming too pushy? I dither on this question. But you guys are truthfully the only ones who read my ramblings, and for that I am extremely grateful.  So please let me know if I am pushing it a bit.

Blogging, twittering, FB and G+ are very time-consuming events. Which limits time for other important stuff. The only one in my house who loves to see me head for the computer is – Bob.

He assumes his best-loved position. Sorry there are two:

Everyone else groans, (including Ellie) as they know I will be superglued to the seat until I have set up x amount of promotional posts.

And lastly for today my promotional push is:

The Runaway Schoolhouse is on Kindle for €0.99 ($0.99) for the next week, in the hope that a few reviews will float or clunk (be thrown) my way.

The purpose of the reviews for me is to help discover the fate of the other books gathering dust in my desk. Do I continue to publish or simply to blog?

 

Dear Father Time,

Can I slow Time?

We didn’t know Bob when he was a pup but I imagine him as a cool super pup like this guy,

Full of life and fun.

He came into our lives when he was 2 and a bit.

A bundle of trouble as every follower knows. He ate everything in his way, pipes in drains, remote control unit for the electric gate, the tube covering the wires for the gate itself, shoes, boxes, flower pots the list is endless.

He wasn’t always so laid back, he would almost jump into my arms if a gate rattled as we passed it. He didn’t like big dogs, and still views them suspiciously. He always loved people, big and small. We are a constant source of amusement to him.

However, lately we are becoming aware of his age. Walks take longer, stopping to pee is more frequent, a slight limp is evident on some days, as arthritis creeps in. His meals are prepared with care, adding fish oils, no need to worry about fruit and veg as he loves both and snacks on carrots, steals strawberries, raspberries and blackberries straight from the plants. He has learnt that if he rubs off the apple tree some apples will land at his feet and they are sampled as well.

He ambles after me and will sit watching me as I garden, do housework or write but after five minutes his snoring fills the quiet space between us.

Take today for instance, I suggested a walk and was subjected to the following looks. I took them to mean,

Am I hearing you correctly?

Is she for real?

 

If I pretend I am tired then all will be well.

He is 12 years of age and I want to stop his aging. Has anyone any helpful tips regarding arthritis etc with older dogs?

As usual all answers will be gratefully received.

 

Bob’s Diary: Perhaps we should build an ark?

A walk which Ellie tried to turn into a game of chase

but I wasn’t having any of it.

 

 

The field was flooded so walking and definitely running was off the timetable , for me, instead I decided on a snooze, meanwhile the other pair had made a new friend

or was it a friend and a half?

dav

bty

Bobs Diary: A word that should be banished.

There are many great things in this life but once Maria mentions the “W” word.

Sunshine is nice…

I’m off.

No fence can keep me out

Where to?

I know the very spot to have a nice nap

Anywhere where everyone is allergic to work.

In a perfect Ireland the following would not be heard of:

1.   Politicians who break promises as frequently as they drink tea.

2.  Social inequality – to achieve perfect equality everyone receives the same wage for working. Including politicians (which would mean pensions are limited to one pension per person.)

3.   Minority groups who claim to be in the minority with such strength of feeling their needs are met to such an excessive level that their claims exceed the majority.

4.  Rural Ireland having no public transport.  Trains and buses would run strictly to timetable.

5.   A low number of hospitals in each county – every major town would have a hospital capable of dealing with its community.

6.  Every A & E room that looks like a Christmas sale event. With people fighting for beds or in some cases trolleys.

7.  Taxes being dispersed as randomly and thoughtlessly like bird food.

8.  Tribunals – which only serve to raise the blood pressure of the average income tax payer.

9.  A police force stretched thin.

10.  Children having more rights than parents.

Please note the above are all merely my opinion/feelings on what is happening around me and I would love to hear comments or additions to the above list. Now I am off to join my chilling dog who takes life the way we were meant to (in a perfect world) – by enjoying every moment.

 

Bob’s Diary: If an Ogre can do it – can I?

I know I haven’t written about the Ogre from the wood for a while but really an Ogre and a Fairy in a book for children? I wonder if anyone would like to read stories about me? Or am I losing my good looks and sociable friendly personality?

I know Maria has an idea rattling around in that big old empty brain of hers, but, please let me know what you think.

Bob’s Diary. Why cats?

I don’t understand why people are so taken with cats.

They don’t chase balls or fetch stuff. They just lie around and moan a lot. I’ve tried explaining we don’t need them as I catch the mice in this house, two so far this month and winter is not even here yet.

Maybe someone can explain the fascination to me but here is a sketch Maria did a while back of one breaking his way into the house.

Bob’s Diary: Three Wishes.

If I were granted three wishes I would have to ask for:

 

1.  I would have a food/treat dispensing machine installed in my kennel.

2.   I could sleep through anything, i.e. Ellie throwing her balls on my body as I sleep, Maria shouting time for a walk, (every day, it’s a bit much you will have to agree.)

3.  I would have my own personal groomers. I love having my back scratched, behind my ears, under my chin and on my belly.

I would also plead for a fourth wish, to stop Maria dressing me up for photo’s. (And she didn’t even put me on the cover of her book!)

Remembering these makes me think maybe it is best not to ask to be on her next cover.

Maria’s Stuff: Reality Check – One year on and still missing her.

The 30th of May was an awkward weird day. I woke remembering but trying hard not to visualise my last few minutes with my mum.

After watching her cope with being paralyzed on her left side, and her ensuing struggle to live on a daily basis I have learnt to recognize, and admire the courage of the elderly and anyone who is ill.

On a stranger note I get angered by the daily flippant changes in our Irish healthcare system which are  devoid of commonsense, logic and business sense.

I do have many regrets involving her last year. The main one being my constant questions (in my own mind) about how we failed in our lack of care. We did everything we could at the time, don’t get me wrong but looking back I see the faults, the areas where I should have demanded more on her behalf.

The reality of a situation like that is though you may be doing the best you can for them, I felt, in this case,nothing I did was good enough. I am left wondering and questioning if I could have done better, more..

For now, I focus on remembering the times we laughed, moaned or groaned to each other .

I have also learnt that a life no matter how long or short it is, is often remembered by moments. These snapshots bring back memories of vivid happiness, fun, grief, nothing escapes but they are all moments to be treasured.

For the first time in my life I appreciate and understand her unspoken philosophy of being involved, doing something no matter how trivial or menial. The size of the gesture or involvement doesn’t matter. It is the act of living, being part of life. And all I can add is for such a small woman she managed to do a whole lot of living.

Flash Fiction: Flying Cakes.

 

Dear Kate,

Chris is lying in hospital.

The doctors don’t know what hit him. That is the trouble.

I know you are only 6,000 miles away but it might as well be the moon in moments of crisis.

I could do with a hug or a smack, I don’t know which would be best. You, as usual, would know and administer the necessary action.

How do I do it? I am married the sum total of five weeks, happy at last, and wham: my husband is lying unconscious on a hospital trolley. The fight for a proper bed is constant.

Right here we go, deep breath, the story begins like this.

I have been trying to impress him.

I’ve sorted his house, scrubbed and cleaned it until it has become so clean and sterilized it is a no go area for any insect or germ.  His wheezy chest has vanished. We are both delighted with his incredible stamina and energy. No need for details your vast imagination can sort that area out with delight, no doubt.

To celebrate I decided to bake his favorite, double chocolate fudge cake.

Me, bake? Why ever not? I decided to go for it. I bought the necessary ingredients and cake tin. Then I followed the recipe carefully. Placed it in the oven and went to watch my favorite tv program.

One hour later the smoke alarm woke me. I opened the back door, windows, skylights. I pulled the offending item from the oven. It was double all right, double burnt and hot. My burning fingers begged for mercy so I pegged it out the back door. This was followed by an awful sound.

I raced out. There Chris was, lying flat on his back and the hissing, smoking cake beside him. I called for help.

Checked no one was about then heaved the offending item even further away and there you go. What to do next? Please help.

 

Your loving but needy friend,

Maria