A U-turn in fate

In what seems to be the start of a strange pattern, I didn't make it to Edinbugh festival to charm a nice publisher / literary agent / illustrator of naughty girls with pigtails. As with my attempts to eat a whole chocolate cake in one sitting, fate intervened once more to hold me away from published fame and fortune, instead throwing me in front of one of Glasgow's PR/Media gurus, at the Starbucks in Glasgow Airport.

There I was with my iced coffee, glasses on, 'Children's Writers and Illustrators Handbook 2006' in hand, (trying to look frightfully sophis) and in walks someone I've been keen on meeting for quite a while now. The rather exciting news is that despite my slightly foggy attempts to remember any clients I had when I was working in London (I noticed I succomb to mad eye movements to the left when trying to recall a distant memory; quite a give away of my unprepardness) it appears, (although I am not counting ANY chickens) that his agency, may may may may may, one day, perhaps sooner, perhaps later, who knows? Need. Someone. Like. Me.

The angels are smiling down on me.

Then...more good news. After a rather drunken and jolly supper here, I was asked whether I'd help out a friend who needs someone to do some secretarial work for him. The next day, having spent most of my time in the car (going up to Glasgow airport etc) I thought I'd walk Hinba over the hill to see him, to discuss this further. It's about 2 miles and I've walked it many times. If you are lucky you can see deer watching you from the trees. Lovely. But, it's a working estate and farmers put things like electric fences up without popping notices through your door to alert you, and so it was with concern that I found myself needing to get past one on my walk. In true Raleigh International leader-to-be style, I found myself doing an army roll underneath the tick tick ticking fence and into some long grass which covered me in fluff. Despite this, so far so good.

After climbing the hill the other side and looking out for 4 leaf clovers, Hinba running ahead, I saw a car and worried she'd walk backwards into it, or do something equally un-doglike and daft. (Sometimes I am an overconcerned parent). So, I hipped and hopped to the barbed wire fence and as I was about to climb over it, noticed that it was the friend who'd offered me this job who was in the car. Attempting to look uber athletic and slick, I jumped over the fence, but hooked my wooly jumper in the barbs and lost my footing at the same time, and so managed to sort of scissor-jump it with arm stuck behind my back, which twisted me back into the fence and onto my head. I was absolutey covered in burrs and bits of grass, I looked like the cartoon dog 'Whatamess'. The car was just waiting there, my friend thoroughly entertained (and probably quite embarrased for me). Thankfully this must be seen as normal behaviour around here, because after one or two 'who have you been cavorting in the fields with?' questions, the whole thing was laid to rest and my cheeks resumed their normal shade of pink.

So, things are most definitely looking up, and I am more than a little relieved that my days of sitting on podiums in car showrooms working the tannoy (oh, I didn't tell you about that - was far too embarrassed) are over. Now, back to finding that literary agent...

The beginning of Sammy

I didn't eat the cake...Hugo came home to find me with napkin on lap, fork in hand, about to tuck in. Sensibly he persuaded me to get into the car and took me to the squash court instead. A much better place to vent frustration than in the kitchen with a nice big chocolate cake. Even more pleasing, I won my second ever game of squash which was entirely due to visualising my bank managers head whenever I smashed the ball. Hell hath no fury huh...

AS for the reassuring comments I get about not succombing to convention and caving into some dull office job for the rest of my life - absolutely right! My creative talents have been unleashed since being here and after working away at it for two months, my first ever children's story is now finished!! I was given the brilliant idea whilst on hols of auctionning off the main character's name as a fundraiser for Raleigh. Anyone keen to see their name in print? I'm off to the Edinburgh book festival tomorrow to chat up some nice publishers...watch this space...

A foggy reality

I wish I could write and say I'd found the most amazing high flying job, paying London-rates and the sun was shining (carrots and radishes blooming), chickens arrived and clucking, house fully decorated and stunning, my homemade cake business blooming and generally everything being perfect.

Sadly, as I'm now more aware than ever, life just aint like that.

If I was the protagonist of a novel, I'd be called 'Melissa' or something girlie like that. I'd have an amazing hidden talent, like the ability to sing like Charlotte Church, or uncover local mysteries a la Agatha Christie. These things I'd do offhand, in my own time, whilst prosaically trudging through the day to day monotony of job hunting in a very stagnant market. Suddenly one day, I'd wake up and find out that some local spark had discovered my inherent ability to cure all illness through song, get confessions from hardened criminals and settle peace and happiness on the land. Within three months, people would be clamouring for me to help them and I'd set up some sort of little business run from home, my stubborn attempts to get a normal office job would lie thwarted in the boggy quagmire of unanswered emails, ansaphone messages and promises to pass on messages to friends of friends who are MDs of huge conglomerates.

Any good news? Absolutely - I am my own (wo)man, the sun is shining, I've just baked a cake and I'm now going to go for a long walk, come back and eat the whole damn thing. And not least, I have managed to get four days temping, which do not involve wearing day-glo orange bibs standing with a clipboard on a street corner, or wearing a telephone headset and speaking to irate BT customers (who, like me, hate call centre operators). That should earn me almost a third of the money I managed to lose through penalties to the bank, who were happy to carry on greenlighting my switchcard, whilst whacking on chunky penalty charges silently for almost a week. Nice.

Swimming pools and fairy cakes

It has been an action packed week since my last entry. The job situation remains pretty bleak, but I have been busy in other ways (more heartwarming, some would say).

Having decided to race in a half marathon (dressed as a giant spider) in October as part of my fundraising strategy for Raleigh, I went for a six mile training run in Edinburgh on Wednesday with two friends. We ran from the Meadows along to arthurs seat, up to the top, round the back and back to the flat. It was not easy - I nearly died. There is no way I'm going to be able to race at all, let alone with six giant legs attached to me, unless I get a sturdy programme underway. On the drive back, with weary legs and a weary heart, I decided that my new regime should include me running the two and a bit miles to the nearest village to get milk and papers (with recruitment sections) and then back again. And maybe stop drinking wine mid-week. That should do the trick.

Thursday saw me back at Motive8 where along with the venturers, I had to complete a 250m swim test (presumably there will be quite a bit of swimming to be done on expedition...) The record held amongst the venturers is about 4m 30s and having competed in a triathlon last year, I was determined to beat it. However, having successfully and without loss of life or limb on Glasgow's underground network, brought all 8 or 9 excited and squabbling venturers along to the pools, I was almost too tired to get changed. Once in the pool, I then noted with my eagle eye that two of the kids were hovering near the edge of the pool rather than warming up along with everyone else.

"CUMMON, GET GOING THEN!" I yelled motivationally. And started swimming myself to prove how much fun it was. As I was busy dodging the man scooping bits of sick out the pool with his metal bowl-on-a-stick thing, I hadn't noticed that they weren't following my good example. On looking back and seeing their lack of progress, I added "KICK YOUR LEGS SILLY!" and then almost died of embarasment when one of them, trying very very hard to leave the edge of the pool but starting to splash and splutter and kick and make a helluva racket, managed to communicate to me that neither of them knew how to swim at all. Before being dismissed of my volunteering role, I quickly gave them utterly useless lessons about what I think they should do in order to learn to swim, and then gratefully went off to try my swim test (I didn't manage it in under 4m 3os...)

Friday found me stuffing envelopes for the Ayr Conservative Association (not the most obvious career move, I agree), getting crosser and crosser as the whole point of me doing what I want for a whole year, is to enjoy myself, and I was definitely not enjoying myself on Friday morning. However, I did mention that this weekend I was going to sell some cakes to fundraise for Raleigh and sure enough we all had some 'blue sky thinking' (think Vicar of Dibley weekly meetings) about what I could do to raise some money.

"Well, you'll never make money selling cakes dear"
"Nay hen, that's a silly idea, cakes! Honestly!"
"Well pet, my great aunts sister once made a cake which sold for about 90p"

And other generally helpful comments were made.

"A tombola!"
ME: but I don't have a tombola whatsit

"A raffle!"
ME: I don't have anything to raffle away!

"Guess teddy's birthday!"
ME: GREAT - I'll go and buy a teddy
"No silly! You need someone to donate the teddy"
ME: Nevermind - I don't know anyone to ask to donate me a teddy, so once I've stuffed these [sodding] envelopes I'll go and get one
"Alright pet"

And that was that. But lo and behold, the kind ladies of the Ayr Conservative Association went and bought me a 3 foot giant teddy bear that morning, and Big Ted (wearing my red Raleigh t-shirt) ended up earning more money than 41 fairy cakes put together.

On the Ardmaddy Fete day itself, my little stall had three events - cakes - which all sold incidentally, with some people coming back for more, (perhaps another venture for me here would be for me to have a "CAKES FOR SALE, £8" sign off the main road), using the Kind Ladies of the Ayr Conservative Association's donation, we also had Guess Big Ted's birthday, (which was incidentally the date that I plan to leave for Central America next year - 5th Jan) and the grand finale was a cross country treasure hunt, which saw more family arguments, threats of divorce and crying children than we meant to happen, but it was a good money spinner and that's the main thing.

Only another £1200 to go...

All fundraising ideas very very welcome..!

Oh, and on getting back from Oban this morning, I went to check my beloved veggie patch and I was rather thrilled to see that not only are the carrots absolutely thriving, but some newly planted raddishes are doing fantastically. I think this is all down to my new gardening skills learnt from a book my brother sent up (in desperation probably at what his sister is getting up to). Anyhow, it was a valuable present and my veggie patch is looking marvellous.

Project House

Just a quick example of what Project House consists of. This room is now a calmer shade of 'oatmeal'.