tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-92115968161634501042024-02-24T07:34:00.119+05:30Secret thoughts of Amy Waif, the army wifenavel gazing from an army wifeAmy Waifhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07734489742366316383noreply@blogger.comBlogger728125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9211596816163450104.post-57820525576317634342016-09-08T02:19:00.002+05:302016-09-08T02:19:33.244+05:30In case you were wondering, this is who I really am! http://clareharvey.netAmy Waifhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07734489742366316383noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9211596816163450104.post-44865836287350162122014-12-19T03:49:00.001+05:302014-12-19T03:49:28.598+05:30Amy Waif, is that you? https://www.facebook.com/clareharvey13Amy Waifhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07734489742366316383noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9211596816163450104.post-11665652439175024192014-12-18T22:35:00.003+05:302014-12-18T22:35:53.125+05:30Hello, are you feeling festive? For the first time ever I have done the Christmas cleaning. The irony is that now I'm no longer an army wife, I'm finally starting to act like one. I've had gel nails done, eyebrows threaded - should possibly be thinking of getting a spray tan or something and start to obsess about dusty skirting boards...<br />
I know, I was supposed to tell you all about the wives' xmas party, which was blooming weeks ago now. D'you know what, I actually quite enjoyed being waited on by the CO in his mess dress, and cackling along with the whole hen-party-ness of it all. I'm starting to think I may actually miss being an army wife. Did I mention that I wore the same dress to my last ever 'do' in the sergeants' mess that I wore to the first one, 16-odd years ago. Shall I mention it again, just as testament to the wonders of the 5:2 diet?! I'm fasting today, actually. I've just had a delicious oatcake with marmite (no butter), and I'm about to have a cup of miso soup (the Wispa that Son gave me from his xmas choc selection is waiting in a safe place until it's past midnight - might have to stay up especially). Yep, that's my supper. To make up for the fact that my supper yesterday was two helpings of pasta followed by a bag of chocolate coated almonds and two glasses of wine...and after the two glasses of wine I ended up going through old letters and diaries that are stashed in a suitcase under the bed (as you do), and realised that I was effectively doing the 5:2 diet even as a teenager - although, back then, I was worried about getting fat because I was nine stone. Nine stone! Those were the days.<br />
So, the thing is, I'm really, really not an army wife any more (despite the gel nails and housework). Hubby has been employed elsewhere for a month now. I've just signed a two-book deal for historical fiction (yay), so I suppose I have morphed, somehow, from army wife to author. Still a little bit flabbergasted at the whole thing.<br />
Anyway, I'm in the process of sorting out an author website, so when I do, I'll post the link here, and you can see who I really am!<br />
In the meantime, have a fab xmas xxxxAmy Waifhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07734489742366316383noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9211596816163450104.post-30277964514069726042014-11-27T22:30:00.002+05:302014-11-27T22:30:34.313+05:30I'm still here, in my married quarter, feeling like a bit of a fraud. My meeting with the publisher is in the diary, and I'm frantically trying to think up plotlines for the next book to present in a synopsis at the working lunch. My agent reminded me the other day, in no uncertain terms (I don't think she's the kind of woman who does anything in uncertain terms, actually) that 'the synopsis won't write itself, you know'. I do know. Just as I also know that I'm still teaching ESOL classes, running writing workshops, co-ordinating a volunteer project, and undertaking research for the arts centre, as well as looking after three kids (admittedly, not looking after them terribly well, under the current circumstances).<br />
No, I'm not complaining at all. But the transition period from army wife to novelist does seem to be a teensy bit busy. Never mind. I've had lowlights, highlights and gel nails done, so I'm starting to look the part of a novelist, even if I still haven't written the synopsis-that-won't-write-itself. What's more, it's the wives' xmas party tomorrow night, which will be my last ever function in the sergeants' mess, where it all began. I'm going to wear the same dress that I wore to my first ever function in the sergeants' mess - more years ago than I care to share with you (oh, alright, about seventeen years ago). Luckily, thanks to the whole book deal suppressing-my-appetite phenomenon, I can still fit into it (just about)! Cheerio xxx<br />
<br />Amy Waifhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07734489742366316383noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9211596816163450104.post-1849254699159061932014-11-17T18:13:00.004+05:302014-11-17T18:13:50.695+05:30Hey, I'm not an army wife any more! I am, however, today, a stay-at-home wife. Not one, but two ill kids (two out of three ain't bad, as Meat Loaf would surely comment, were he here with us, watching old episodes of Dr Who and taking regular doses of Calpol). Twin 2 has earache and Twin 1 has a really bad tummy ache, which has now been going on for 12 hours - I'm paranoid about appendicitis, so she's off to the doctor later on (I know, it's probably just constipation, but I'd never forgive myself if she got peritonitis whilst I was telling her to just drink some water and have a big poo). And I'm waiting for my agent to call. I hope she doesn't ask me to meet up with the publisher tomorrow or anything, not sure I can cope with being a glamorous novelist after almost no sleep, sharing a bed with two poorly nine-year-olds. The good news is I'm so uptight (about the book deal and the appendicitis) that I'm not hungry at all, so hurrah for an impromptu fasting day with almost no effort on my part - need to lose weight in anticipation of all those chocolate tree decorations... Righty ho, better go xxxAmy Waifhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07734489742366316383noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9211596816163450104.post-27007615410864036552014-11-14T23:34:00.002+05:302014-11-14T23:34:40.590+05:30Two bits of news...as of today I'm no longer an army wife. Hubby starts his new career on Monday. I'm also starting my new career, as an author. I'm slightly flabbergasted by the whole thing, but my very lovely agent appears to have pulled off a blinder and got me a two-book deal. I'm still in a married quarter, though, and still have the army wives' xmas function to go to (couldn't miss the delights of one last night in the sergeants' mess, could I?), so I'm not signing off quite yet, but nearly...xxx<br />
<br />Amy Waifhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07734489742366316383noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9211596816163450104.post-51427939762124929722014-11-02T16:18:00.001+05:302014-11-02T16:23:12.095+05:30hi, how has your half term been? We've been to London, which has sucked the very life from my bones, in the way that only London can. Great fun, but exhausting. Saw some lovely friends, who were all remarkably tolerant of Twins & Son.<br />
We also did the V&A, the British Museum, the Olympic Park, Hamley's and the theatre (Hubby said now we're middle class we should blooming well act it, so we had our night out 'up west' - what with that and the trip to Hamley's, which resulted in the purchase of two over price Build a Bear toys and a pair of LED thumb covers (!), we can no longer afford the new hoover we need..). l also met my agent who, after our tea and lemon tart, remarked, "Well, you didn't disappoint", which l guess is a good thing. She also showed me the leather jacket she has promised herself when she nails us a publishing deal (l didn't mention that any advance l get will be spent on a G tech air ram super hoover) Always good to be incentivised, no?<br />
Right now l'm on the narrow boat, chugging back to our mooring. Poor Hubby is on the tiller, in the rain. l have offered to take a turn but he says there is no point two of us getting wet (phew). Might make him another cuppa though.<br />
So that's been my half term.<br />
Only two more weeks as an army wife!<br />
Take care xxAmy Waifhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07734489742366316383noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9211596816163450104.post-10637944987531160562014-10-25T12:59:00.001+05:302014-10-25T13:01:25.695+05:30hello you! Sorry, it's been a while. Lots of stuff going on. I'm only going to be an army wife for another couple of weeks. He's off to sample the dubious delights of civvie street. Which will mean my seventeen odd years as a trailing miIitary spouse will come to an end as well. Just when I'd finally got used to it, too! However, I'm planning to continue this blog a teensy bit longer. l began it in November 2007 so l think I'll finish in November 2014, just so l can go to my final wives Xmas party in the sergeants' mess and tell you all the thrilling details about that before signing off for good.<br />
Hubby has just grumpily reminded me that l shoud be making the tea, so l guess I'd better go xxAmy Waifhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07734489742366316383noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9211596816163450104.post-74409282934656387722014-10-07T22:50:00.000+05:302014-10-09T02:52:25.869+05:30"Don't worry, Mummy, Daddy can shout at us instead." I've got a tiny spot of time to write. Update on last Tuesday's drama: I also got caught on a speeding camera, zooming back from the boatyard to my dental appointment, I discovered when the police notice landed on the doormat today. Although this is of course a bit of a bummer, I'm frankly flabbergasted that our mystery machine actually managed to 'speed'. In fact we were doing 36 in a 30 mph area (I think I was overtaking a roadsweeper at the time). Just call me Louise Hamilton!<br />
What else? Went down to visit the boat (the one which is ours, because we paid for it and have a receipt, yes we do, angry telephone man) at its new mooring, which was lovely. The trip was marred a bit by the fact that I have a really dreadful cold, though. So I spent a lot of time in my bunk, drinking hot backcurrant, with my manuscript, trying to sort out my paragraphing for my poor potential agent who says it's practically unreadable in its current format (who knew? not me, that's for sure). On Friday, I lost my voice totally. My very supportive Twin 2 said helpfully, "Don't worry, Mummy, Daddy can shout at us instead." Bless her little cotton socks. Worryingly, I still feel as if I'm on board, though. Everything is swaying around. I think I may have mal de debarquement syndrome, but Hubby just thinks I'm a malingering tart, as usual.<br />
Back with my lovely learners tomorrow. One student asked for a lesson on English humour. I'm not sure I can manage that, but we are going to do a mingling activity with some jokes, and spend time trying to work out why they are funny (or not). I hope that will be okay. I'm feeling a bit lacklustre and not really up to dissecting a section from <i>Live at the Apollo</i> for a mixed class of Chinese, Taiwanese, Koreans, Iraquis, Hungarians, Romanians and Libyans, and trying to explain why what's really funny is being downright evil about someone, because in some wierd British way that means you like them. Nope, I can't begin to explain that, so bang goes the A2/B1 ESOL class on 'taking the piss' - I'll leave that to a better teacher than me!<br />
Okey doke. Nearly Twins' hairwashing time, better go xxx<br />
<br />Amy Waifhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07734489742366316383noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9211596816163450104.post-24753784760389055232014-10-01T03:50:00.003+05:302014-10-07T22:33:04.441+05:30Hello! How was your day? Mine began badly, but got better, which is preferable to the other way round. lt began with an angry phone call from a man claiming that we hadn't paid for the boat (we have) and threatening to 'lift' it. After some panicky phone calls and a trip to the boatyard with poor Twin 1, who was off school with a tummy bug, it transpired that the boat brokers have gone into liquidation. Although we bought the boat weeks ago, the now-bankrupt brokers failed to pass the cash on to the vendors. All a bit messy.<br />
Next Twin 1 was dragged along to my dental appointment, where my over-zealous dentist told me that as l both clench <i>and</i> grind, l shall need a bigger mouthguard. He intimated that l may need to consider a brace, but l said that at four grand a pop, considering it was all I'd do.<br />
Then we went for lunch with a friend l haven't seen for 6 years. We had bread baked in flowerpots, which was surprisingly nice.<br />
Just as we were about to pick up the other Twin from school l got a call on my mobile from a literary agent who's interested in my book. Whoop, whoop.<br />
this evening l dyed my hair - cinnamon spice, in anticipation of the autumnal weather that that nice Alex Deakin says is heading southwards.<br />
So it has been an unusually eventful day.<br />
l utterly failed to do any writing, though.<br />
<br />Amy Waifhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07734489742366316383noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9211596816163450104.post-69972289519943328602014-09-15T22:38:00.000+05:302014-09-15T22:38:18.879+05:30aaaarrrggghhh!I need to vent. And it would be wrong to go bitching in the school playground, so you get it instead, soz.<br />
<br />
Yes it's the flaming primary school. So here's the thing, Twins had been coming home from school saying that their PE bags (the same ones they've had for the past three years, proper school PE bags bought from Clarkes along with their sensible school shoes) are no longer allowed. Because they're pink. I fail to see how having a bag in school colours is likely to make my children run faster, jump higher or be better at catching a ball, but after a heated discussion with the Head on the subject, I wound my neck back in, apologised in writing, and went out to buy two new PE bags - mainly because I didn't want the girls to get hassle from their class teachers.<br />
<br />
After buying said PE bags today, I went to pick the girls up from school. Twin 2 was in her PE kit. Our conversation went something like this:<br />
<br />
Me: Oh, you've just had PE - how was it?<br />
Her: Not good. The PE teacher didn't know I had a disability.<br />
Me: Oh dear.<br />
Her: I told him and he said we'd go somewhere else to talk about it, but we didn't.<br />
<br />
Call me an oversensitive, pushy middle-class parent (go on, I bet all the teachers at the school do), but to me a school that prioritises the colour of PE bags above the actual well-being of a physically disabled pupil in a PE class has its priorities somewhat out of whack.<br />
<br />
Yes, I'm livid.<br />
<br />
On the plus side, I'm so angry that I just went for the fastest run I've done in weeks, and I did sixty seven sit ups and thirty three press ups afterwards.Amy Waifhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07734489742366316383noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9211596816163450104.post-62071683056716907612014-09-03T21:25:00.001+05:302014-09-03T21:25:47.545+05:30We didn't even make it as far as Beeston. And Hubby has gone back to work. Son started school today - the beginning of the new school year always makes me feel a bit emotional, because you realise that they're one step closer to leaving home forever. However, after Son left in his neat and clean (but not for long) new uniform, I began to feel that I wouldn't mind the Twins being a couple of steps closer to leaving home forever, the pair of angry screeching loonies. Ended up being a productive day, though, buying socks and football boots and pants and polo shirts and trainers and - oh, how did those half price wedges slip into the sensible uniform-buying basket, hmmm? I couldn't possibly say, but once they were paid for it did seem like a bit of a pfaff to take them back, especially as they will look so nice with the leather trousers, and did I mention that they were half price?Amy Waifhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07734489742366316383noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9211596816163450104.post-38179966844639537802014-09-02T02:17:00.002+05:302014-09-03T21:19:27.325+05:30I'm hiding in the cabin keeping quiet. Hubby (aka Skipper/Cap'n/Man of Wrath) is by the heads, clearing up broken glass and cursing to himself. It's one of the many things that haven't quite gone according to plan with this whole water-gypsy lifestyle we are embracing. The plan was that we'd be in a nice mooring in Essex by now, having enjoyed a wonderful couple of weeks exploring England's glorious waterways on the best family holiday ever. Instead, here we are in Nottingham Boatyard, waiting for the chippy and plumber to finally finish sorting out all the snags. There's a slim chance we may make it a couple of miles up the Beeston Canal tomorrow. Just in time for the end of the hols. Best laid plans and all that, I s'pose. At least we remembered to bring the whiskey. xAmy Waifhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07734489742366316383noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9211596816163450104.post-13662068467582308862014-08-20T02:32:00.000+05:302014-08-20T02:32:00.215+05:30summer holsI know, it's been ages. I've been really busy eating ice creams and stuff (evidenced by the tightness of my jeans - need to get back on the 5:2 diet pronto). Anyway, it feels like the summer is almost over. I'm sat on the sofa underneath a fleecy blanket, for goodness sakes. At least it didn't rain today when I met up with some old mates for a picnic. There was that whole 'Hello! You're looking well! When did I last see you? Was it at so-and-so's wedding?' bit, and we realised that we hadn't seen each other for ten years. I know, ten flippin' years. Wierd isn't it, getting older. I am lucky enough to know some really lovely people, who I consider friends, but actually I hardly ever see them. That was the point behind the road trip, to try to catch up with at least some of them. However, the ill car and the new boat put paid to that one. At least I've seen a couple of 'oldies'. Think I may have to start planning a retirement community to populate with all the nice people I know - along with a smattering of useful celebs, like Jamie Oliver for food, Dawn French for laughs, and obviously Kirsty & Phil to make sure we're all in a really super dooper location. Oh, and talking of which, I have applied to be on 'Kirsty's fill your house for free', so that when we finally do get out of our married quarter and into a house in the real world, we will have a chic-yet-cheaply-furnished house. (Or 'property' - have you noticed that on those house-y programmes it's never called a house or a flat, always a 'property' and housing estates are called 'urbanisations'. Wonder what they'd call the clutter that fills our garage? 'Retro embellishments' or 'vintage accoutrements', perhaps?).<br />
Anyway, I burble.<br />
Summer hols are over halfway through, and have been alright so far. We've seen rellies and friends and had ice creams and fish & chips by the sea. The kids visited a lighthouse with the grandparents. We've visited three National Trust houses. Twin 2 has learnt to ride her trike. I've met up with an old schoolfriend from the 80s, fellow volunteers and colleagues from the 90s, as well as Twins' best mate from Nepal (and her lovely mum), and half of my siblings (my sheep-scaring elder sister, to be precise*). All that's left to do is make eight curtains and upholster six banquette thingys (for the new boat) and take to the water.<br />
The mystery machine's still not fixed, but hey, you can't have it all.<br />
<br />
*I'll tell you the story sometime, after the scandal has died down...Amy Waifhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07734489742366316383noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9211596816163450104.post-70817681441561759582014-07-31T23:39:00.001+05:302014-07-31T23:39:21.973+05:30psSomeone has just suggested that given our current financial straits, we should rename the boat 'The Everyday Value' - which might even attract sponsorship from a well-known supermarket chain and thus help offset the loan repayments...Amy Waifhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07734489742366316383noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9211596816163450104.post-57635726090986681812014-07-30T23:05:00.000+05:302014-07-31T23:36:45.654+05:30Hiya, well the end of the month is imminent, so I thought I'd better get another one in, especially as I have news...ooh, what news?<br />
Well, only that I'm not going to be an army wife for very much longer.<br />
No, I'm not leaving my husband to run off with the slightly-plump-but-very-cheery-and-firm-of-calf postman. My husband, who has been in the army for a whopping (yes, I'm going a bit tabloid-speak on you, but the content seems to merit it) 31 years has only gone and found himself a normal job. No more zipping off to war zones at the drop of a weapon. Nope. Which means, obviously, that I won't be an army wife any more. Unless I very quickly divorce him and have an affair with one of the random soldiers I see running up and down the hill on a Tuesday or Thursday morning (not that I look, heaven forfend, I'm a middle-aged married woman, don't you know!).<br />
It's sixteen and a half years since that morning with the hangover and the borrowed suit in the local registry office.<br />
Sixteen and a half years since I thought "Good Lord, what have I done? I've sentenced myself to a life of gel nails, bingo and obsessing about cleaning products!"<br />
Anyway, I haven't quite succumbed to the delights of Mecca Wednesdays, nail art and Mr Muscle, although I do actually hoover the house these days (well, Bertha the robot does), which is an improvement on 16 years ago.<br />
My husband has decided to shake off his military shackles by becoming a water-gypsy. He's in the process of buying a narrow boat. I hope they throw in a pipe, bandana and mandolin as part of the deal. The plan is to call the boat SS Vengeange and get a cat called Admiral Marcus (apparently you will understand this if you are a Star Trek fan). I'm not, however, going to transfer from army wife to water gypsy wife, as the kids and I will be staying dry in a very boring house in suburbia - because it's near to a 'good' school.<br />
Anyway, thought I'd let you know. Exciting, huh? xxAmy Waifhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07734489742366316383noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9211596816163450104.post-4467341978327891712014-07-19T23:25:00.003+05:302014-07-19T23:25:54.246+05:30Hi, how are things? Twins have just been out dancing in the rain - we've just had the mother-of-all rainstorms. I love it; it feels all monsoon-ish, and I can almost imagine we're back in Nepal (until I have to get off my bum and do housework, that is). So it turns out that my fake tan application wasn't in vain; we have had what counts as a 'heatwave' in the UK (although in my humble opinion, anything below thirty degrees doesn't really count), and what's happened? Everyone's been moaning about it. "Oooh, isn't it hot?" they say. As if that's a bad thing. Maybe it's because as Brits we're so rubbish about complaining about the things we should (poor service in shops, etc.) that we misdirect our ire onto the weather. It's either too hot, too cold, too rainy, too windy, or - if it's changing from one of these states to the other - "You just don't know where you are with it, do you?"<br />
So today we've had sunshine and storms and I love it. I love love love the fact that it was worth my while applying my (slightly streaky) fake tan and (a bit chipped) nail varnish to my toes. I love the fact that last night I sat out until gone nine on the grass outside the sailing club whilst two-thirds of my offspring sailed up the river Trent (the remaining third was a refusnik who decided to read 'Pink' magazine instead of having a watery adventure with her siblings, and then came over all emotional when I reminded her that only sailors got to have a can of fizzy pop at home time - at which point all the other people at the sailing club made me feel guilty for making the little cripple cry...). And I love the fact that I'm sat here in a sleevless dress and I don't even have goosebumps.<br />
The summer hols are almost upon us. Bring on the heatwave, and keep it here until September! xxxAmy Waifhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07734489742366316383noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9211596816163450104.post-56072781930460987862014-07-10T22:35:00.000+05:302014-07-10T22:35:04.132+05:30pswould it make more sense to put blog posts on the litfix site, d'you think? Which would you prefer?Amy Waifhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07734489742366316383noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9211596816163450104.post-1799398510976173462014-07-10T22:32:00.002+05:302014-07-10T22:32:43.524+05:30Oh, hello, how's it going? I've cracked open the fake tan and tackled my pant moustache, in anticipation of the heat wave that's coming our way. Apparently. So one of my bosses told me the other day. Not sure why I'm feeling optimistic about it, really. The last so-called heat wave lasted all of twenty-four hours, as I recall. Anyway, at least my varicose veins are buffed and gradually turning a slightly less transluscent shade of blue.<br />
What else? Hmmm....the mystery machine is still blinking the orange light in the corner of the dashboard in a sickly way any time I put my foot on the accelerator. I think it just has the vehicular equivalent of feeling a bit discombobulated. I'm sure the chaps at the garage think that I have the mechinics version of Munchhausen-by-proxy syndrome. Or that I fancy them (they may well think that because Twin 1 is convinced of it, and never fails to mention something in an embarrassingly loud voice every time I have to drop the van off there).<br />
Work has calmed down a bit, and I've had a chance to write a bit more, so I've nearly finished the final final final version of the novel. Just one scene left and a bit of tweaking, I think. Yipee, in time for the hols.<br />
Other than that, I've spent a stupid amount of time looking at houseboats for sale and houses for sale and contemplating the future. If I tell you any more than that, I'll jinx it, so you'll have to wait for details.<br />
I'm also starting to have vague thoughts about a sequel to the novel I've nearly finished. I'm just gestating, but I think I have the beginnings of a plan. I know, probably should get this one finished and off with an agent first. Maybe I'm getting a bit previous. But I'm looking forward to starting the process again - it's almost the best fun you can have (and definitely the best fun you can have on your own!).<br />
Right then, hairwash night, better go.<br />
Take care xxxAmy Waifhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07734489742366316383noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9211596816163450104.post-842430327505329872014-07-03T02:31:00.000+05:302014-07-03T02:31:00.119+05:30My bad. Really been off radar for a while. I have had lots of work and various summer lurgies to contend with, though. Not to mention sports days and vague attempts to make it through the ironing pile, as well as tweaking the final chapters of the book, which I am desperate to finish before the summer hols. In addition, all my zero-hours contract jobs have suddenly become, well, no longer zero hours contracts. So I'm doing lots of really enjoyable work - some of it even almost reasonably paid, too - but having almost hardly any time to write/blog/create flash fiction. Mustn't grumble, though, it'll keep the pesky critters in two-ball screwballs and ninety nines this summer, if nothing else. Or alternatively pay for the exhorbitant (hmmm, how <i>do</i> you spell that word?) garage bill for the unresolved intermittent fault, which may - or may not - have something vaguely to do with the EGR filter, or the turbo...<br />
Anyway, I should probably go and sort out PE kits now - it's multi-skills day tomorrow, you know (not to be confused with sports day, which was Monday, and in which my disabled daughter won a race - woo hoo - but only because I demanded that the poor little crippled girl be given a head start, for goodness sakes!). Better go. TTFN xxxxAmy Waifhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07734489742366316383noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9211596816163450104.post-92001249803962931352014-06-18T01:52:00.001+05:302014-06-18T01:52:32.273+05:30ps.Now posting all my flash fiction on FB: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/litfixx" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: underline;">www.facebook.com/litfixx</a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;">. </span>Amy Waifhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07734489742366316383noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9211596816163450104.post-24474236561050975082014-06-18T01:49:00.002+05:302014-06-18T01:49:40.714+05:30Hey, how are things? Son is away on his school trip and the house isn't at all silent. Which proves that all the palaver and hullaballoo in this household are entirely down to the pesky Twins.<br />
So, what have you been up to recently? We just had a weekend in London, almost entirely courtesy of Tesco coupons (Tower of London and Hatfield House for free, plus free kids meals at Pizza Express), which is all very gratifying, if you don't stop to think how much profit Tesco must be making from us if they can afford to give us one hundred and fifty quid's worth of freebies.<br />
I have almost steamed my way through the terrifying ironing pile, thanks to a double bill of 'Place in the sun: home or away'. (yes, they chose a large villa with a pool and gardens in the south of France, over a dingy town house with no garden in Gloucestershire). Anyway, it got me to pondering on my ultimate lifestyle destination, and I've decided that it's not the south of France, it's Cape Town. Now I just need to convince Hubby. Or sell my book for a huge advance. Neither of which is especially likely at present, so I'll have to stick to the real estate porn on more 4 for a bit longer.<br />
Hope that you're living the dream somewhere xxxAmy Waifhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07734489742366316383noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9211596816163450104.post-45589206769745451042014-06-13T02:31:00.000+05:302014-06-13T02:31:09.423+05:30So, guess what? I'm just paranoid, after all. The inclusion manager hasn't been avoiding me, she's just heavily pregnant and with her 'preg-head' on has forgotten all about our quarter issues. Phew. No need to have awkward grown up conversations then, what a relief.<br />
What have you been up to? I got all excited about the sunshine, but now it's getting so balmy I realise that it is, in fact, time to crack open the half-forgotten suitcase of summer clothes that has been languishing behind the bedroom door all these months (and serving a useful purpose as a door-blocker, in the absence of a bolt/lock). The only problem is that most of them now need ironing, so I now have an ironing pile as high as Sugarloaf mountain (yes, I'm exaggerating, but it must be at least a Munro, in ironing-pile terms). Maybe I can schedule a morning of tackling it whilst watching Eammon and Ruth (my BFF - well, I did meet her a few times back in 1991, you know!) on This Morning.<br />
I'm back on the case with my novel, but can't get onto it quite as quickly as I'd like because I have all-of-a-sudden found myself with extra ESOL classes. A while ago I took some English learners into the art gallery to do a session based around the exhibition. It was well-attended and quite a laugh, so I casually mentioned to my boss that I wouldn't mind doing more ESOL sessions based around art. Hmmm, did any wise older person (probably an Auntie or someone in a floral blouse) ever say 'Be careful what you wish for!' whilst wagging a finger in a knowing way to you? Yep? Well, I wish they'd bally well done it to me, too and I would have kept my trap shut. So now, several months and a dod of Arts Council funding later, I have found myself frantically trying to think of a weekly two-hour lesson to link into the idea of art and cultural identity...<i>for the next six months...</i><br />
So, if you don't hear much from me for a while, you'll know it's because I'm casting around wildly for lesson ideas whilst manically trying to finish the final final draft of my novel.<br />
Right, I'm off to panic about the enormity of it all and not manage to get to sleep, now.<br />
Take care xxxAmy Waifhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07734489742366316383noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9211596816163450104.post-11753157547238229072014-06-09T22:31:00.002+05:302014-06-09T22:31:26.180+05:30Don't you hate being a grown up sometimes?<br />
It seems I must have done something to upset the school's inclusion manager, who is now not responding to my emails, which means there is a delay in getting a justification for us to retain our quarter here on the grounds of Twin 2's special educational needs. Blah blah blah. Luckily the class teacher is prepared to talk to me and sign the justification letter for me, but it's not really his job - the welfare of children with additional needs is the job of the inclusion manager...<br />
So now I'm thinking that as I must have done something heinous for her to 'send me to Coventry', I should probably find out what it is, and apologise for whatever I have done to upset her, because that would be the adult thing to do.<br />
I'm just not feeling like being a grown up, that's all.Amy Waifhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07734489742366316383noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9211596816163450104.post-80016510473296353562014-06-05T02:30:00.001+05:302014-06-05T02:30:04.605+05:30I'm having a taste of the future...the Twins are off on a school residential and the house is eerily quiet. Since I came in from work, and Son came home from school, there's just been the almost inaudible hum of elecrickery, as he dominates his Minecraft universe, and I ponder flash fiction and next week's lesson plan. We broke the silence with a brief chat about tuna pizza and geography homework. And when I drove him to karate the absence of an internet connection forced us to exchange pleasantries. But otherwise...oddly absent of noise. Nobody claiming to have been scratched by anyone else. Nobody needing their physio monitored or guitar practice cajoled into or spellings tested or reading listened to. There hasn't even been any housework to do - no biscuit crumbs, apple cores or illicit sweet wrappers on the floor, either. It is - Son and I agreed - very strange indeed. I ended up with plenty of time to write, lesson plan, pop to Tesco to buy a green jumper (yes, another one, but it was £3 in the sale, bargain or what?) and do 44 sun salutations and write to you. And it's not even ten o'clock. I feel like I'm retired, or have just slipped back into a pre-kids life. Anyhow, I'm going to use this somewhat spooky bit of extra spare time to have a nice bath, without interruptions or the nagging thought of bunging a load in the machine or packing PE kits. Ta-ra xxAmy Waifhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07734489742366316383noreply@blogger.com0