Juggling

Well, despite the distraction of plumbers, decorators and carpet fitters, my keyboard has been a hotbed of inspiration this week. Nevertheless, and between maternal duties (witnessing my offspring's starring role in a school drama production), I have also organised publicity for my forthcoming Humour Writing workshop whilst mentoring a children's author and tempting commissioning editors with a selection of irresistible ideas. Oh, the balls I have to juggle! Which reminds me, I wonder if my dear husband will be home for supper this evening . . .

Creative Skiing

I have just returned from the delights of a skiing holiday a la Continent: snow covered peaks, charming classic clothes establishments and surprisingly good wine. Needless to say, although blessed with poise, technique and balance, I remained at ground level, leaving the deceptively simple pastime of sliding down glaciers to my husband (keen but falls over a great deal) and 12 year old (Olympic standard). The many cafes were my day time refuge. Between copious cups of hot chocolate and gateaux extraordinaire (I refused resistance), I wrote several articles and started the book about which I have procrastinated for too long. Indeed, without the distraction of domesticity, I found I was far more creative than usual. Perhaps I could fit in another skiing trip soon . . .

I'm awash with political correctness and inconsequential bureaucracy which have dominated the last few months. And all for the sake of a tinsy winsy teaching qualification. Nevertheless, I will endeavour to extract a few snippets to inject into my forthcoming workshops whilst recycling my colourful yet boringly repetitive handouts via the wood burning stove. With my certificate just an A* away, I have already purchased a gilt edged frame. It will nestle beautifully on my oak with walnut inlay bureau. Oh, and fear not learners, my courses will focus on creative writing rather than codes or practice, diversity, session plans . . .zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Humour

Deadlines, workshops, festivals, where is the time to buff my brass, let alone decant the sherry? My ability to juggle domesticity with a freelance writing career never fails to astound me. Indeed, my excellent article on humour writing will shortly appear in Writing Magazine and I am delighted to announce that I will be running a humour writing workshop on Saturday 15 May in The Chilterns. Do click on my computer-address-mail to contact me and reserve your place. It will be such fun! Now do excuse me, my bechamel sauce is reaching critical point . . .

Happy New Year!

Well, apart from a fleeting yet alarming moment when it seemed we would run out of champagne, our Noel celebrations provided family, friends and neighbours with the highlight of their social calendar. Food was aplenty, there were gifts galore and, apart from the felines sniffing out and tearing open their cat nip presents during the Christmas Eve carol singing around the Baby Grande, all went according to my finely honed plan. Now with my husband returned to corporate life and our daughter skipping off to school, I am obliged to oil my Olympia. Articles to write, the great and good awaiting interview, workshops to organise . . .

Christmas

What joy! A plethora of whiteness swaddles the countryside, the freshly made cranberry sauce is rich and juicy (much like its maker) and my festive order of imported sherry has just arrived. Yet there's still much to do before our numerous guests gather and my husband will be most upset if he is unable to feast on a generous helping of seasonal stuffing. Indeed, I must allow time to create my celebrated home-made crackers. Then there's the tradesmen's gift envelopes to address and . . . oh dear, must dash, the cats are scaling my spruce . . .