Is it a spider...is it a fly?

(source: pinterest)

No...

It's a 'floater' in my eye.

Yes, that is what it's called.

A black blob, of various shapes and sizes. Described as something that looks like dots, cirvcles, lines, clouds or cobwebs. (The spider and fly are my additions)

(source: pinterest)

The blob floats, drifts or zig-zags all over the eye after a laser treatment. 

or to be posh—a YAG laser capsulotomy in my case.

It's great because I no longer have a fuzzy vision in one eye.

Bad because I can now see the cobwebs so I'm going to have to be a not so domestic goddess and dust!

But that apart, (I hate bothering the dust bunnies—they just go forth and multiply when I do—) I now realise how lucky I am to be able to have such things done.

There's so much we take for granted where I live.

And I'm determined to 'open my eyes' see how lucky I am and appreciate it.

(Random photo of Bath)

All that apart, I'm getting on with writing my Christmas stories. In 25deg sunshine, writing about snow and ice. It seems a bit surreal, but I guess after all these years I'm used to it. Weirdly when I write about warmth and summer in our winters, I don't not feel the same.

Maybe because I've been lucky enough to go somewhere warmer at times and so can envisage it easier.

 Whichever it is, I've got the door to the garden wide open, I can see some fish in the pond, hear various birds tweeting, (and two pigeons having a fight,) a cockerel crowing, and a plane going over head.

Plus some idiot on a motorbike going much too fast down a nearby lane, and a tractor rumbling across a field.

It's early morning, and I love this time of day.

I'm the only one up, I have a cup of coffee and I'm chatting to you via my blog.

And—I'm about to get the last few thousand words of my Regency Christmas story written.

Have a great day, and take care, wherever you are,

happy reading,

love Raven xxx

If we all liked the same things...

 Wouldn't it be boring?

Can you imagine it? 

and if we all disliked the same things...

Can you imagine that as well?

I'd rather not.

(source:pinterst)

When someone says oh I don't like hot stories/same sex/historical/contemporary/mystery or whatever I smile and say what I've written up above.

'Wouldn't it be boring if we all only liked the same things.'

I try never to judge a person by what they read or don't read (there are some exceptions of course but I'll not get into that here). I myself don't like sci-fi, horror or what my mum called 'nasties'.

I prefer happy ever afters, some hot and some not. Just like I try to write.

With coffee of course.

It's all personal preference.

And on that note,

I'm off to indulge in my preference,

Happy Reading,

love, Raven xxx

A book for all seasons?

 It's May.

We've had several days of wearing factor 50 and walking by the coast or sitting outside in the garden. 

Sometimes in the shade.

Reading a good book, and at the appropriate time, a G n T or an AF spritzer.

Then today? Brr It says it's warmer than yesterday, but it sure doesn't feel like it. 

Jeans and a jumper. That's indoors.

It's typical of course that when it was hot, I was writing a chapter in my WIP where the weather was cold.

Today? It it's a day of writing about picnicking by a stream and having to sit under a tree to get some shade.

I am so grateful for a good imagination!

Just a short post today. the weeding, the writing and feeding the fish beckons!

Have a great day, take care and...

happy reading,

love Raven xxx

What’s in a name?

 Morning all…or whatever time of the day in your neck of the woods, hope you are all well.

(That sounds as if lots of people read this 🤔— but however many do…thank you.)

Anyway, it’s a real old ramble from me today. Or the wondering, thinking kind, not the walking sort— though I do try a bit of that most days.

Why do some names put you off?

Specifically people's names.

Now, I know it's a very personal thing. That some people just love a name and others hate it. I also realise that names go in and out of fashion. When I was a child, many moons ago, I had five girls in my class with the same first name. I also has a two lots of a girl and a boy with the same name, but with a different spelling. 

Got to be a bit confusing at times. 

But what I'm really trying to say, is why does a name put you off a character in a book.

(source: pinterest)

Sometimes, I reckon it's because it reminds you of someone you don't like for whatever reason. That's understandable. I mean why read about a hero who reminds you off a nasty kid at school who used to pinch you every time he walked by? Or someone you fancied and ignored you. 

Maybe you see a name as sounding prissy? Too posh, too complicated to spell or say. Too many people with that name. 

Or you just plain don't fancy it. 

It's a weird thing, really. The book sounds great, you read the blurb and then...ARGH. You can not read a book with a hero/heroine called whatever!

Or you're introduced to someone and think, hmm, I bet you do...(insert something that grosses you out) 

Even worse when a friend or thier family tell you the latest edition is called something you hate. Smile sweetly and say, oh how nice... through gritted teeth.

It must be even worse if a member of your family chooses a name you hate. Thankfully I've never had that.

But I have chosen not to read a book, and vowed never to call a character a name I don't like, even if it was/is in fashion when and where the book is set.

But neither would I use a name that wasn't of the era.

Which is right off topic, but when all is said and done...

what's in a name? 

Happy reading,

love, Raven xxx

 

As we remember them

 I didn’t want to take anything away from the importance of VE Day, but thought some of my parents reminiscences might be of interest.

My mum…a cockney born in 1925. Went to work for Dolcis Shoes in their offices.

After a few years sleeping in the underground each night—a specific one because her dad worked for the railways—she found herself living in an old house in Orlingbury in Northamptonshire with her workmates.

Her mum was so worried about her youngest out in the wilds (her words) she took herself and her other two girls to live in Kettering.

Bad mistake.

Her husband installed his lady friend in their house in the east end of London, and my mum (why she chose the youngest I have no idea—nor did my mum) and my nan were called back to see as my nan called her, the harlot in her, nan’s bed with a baby.

Divorce followed.

(Nan subsequently married the man who they rented half a house from, but that’s another story.)

Mum enjoyed her time at the hall. She and her best friend Kay, saved up their wages to buy clogs to wear. The older ladies who worked with them saved up their wages to buy the two girls slippers as the noise of the clogs were driving them mad.

Mum and Kay got onto several scrapes, non less than getting stuck up the wall around the house, and also getting  caught as they tried to sneak into the house after an illicit night out at a local hop! I’ve put that into Bomber’s Moon one of my Raven books.

There’s a lot more to this story…how mum met a yank and got engaged…how it panned out…meeting my dad later…me…

Me meeting a guy( in Scotland who was a ‘friend’ of my aunt when they lived in London…

But I’ll leave that for later…

Along with my mum and the yank, and my dads thoughts on the RAF,

Happy reminiscences,

LETS REMEMBER THEM

 love R xxx

Welcome back mojo

 You see the darned thing has been on a unauthorised holiday.

Just sloped off without a word of warning.

Disappeared and left me floundering.

And I didn't like it one bit.

Where had it gone?

And why?

Thinking back, it had gone on a bit of a go slow. Okay more than a bit. I was finding it harder and harder to fix on a story and write it. I'd start something, stop it, ignore it, cuss it. 

Drink coffee, go for a walk, read, shock horror, even do some ironing, read, knit...

But the writing just wasn't working.

At first I just made excuses. I was away from home. Didn't have laptop and found it harder to write on anything else. There were other things that needed doing, I was tired, didn't get up early...blah, blah, blah. 

Then I worried.

What if the mojo stayed away? Never came back to niggle at me or shout in my ear?

I didn't like that idea. But reasoned because the more I worried the less ideas I got, I'd be better not worrying.

Easier said than done.

However I concentrated on other things. Dabbled with some stories I'd begun, read up about some things I was interested in. 

Then a couple of days ago the lovely husband and I went for a walk at the coast near to where we live.

We headed for a cliff walk and a footpath in a valley down to a beach.

And I thought...'smugglers'. 

So when we came home, got out my books about smuggling in the area, and began to plot.

And thats where everything went off in a totally different direction.

I often find that as I'm falling alseep I get ideas for a story, that when I wake up, I find I've forgotten. I know I'd had an idea, not what it was. Which as you can guess is very frustrating, because of course those ideas were of course, best sellers.

But this time, I woke up with the idea for a story still firmly in my mind. Not just the smugglers, but the idea of them sent my mojo dancing.

I began to write.

Added some more in my mind that night. Woke up and couldn't work out why it actually wasn't written in the doc, I was so convinced it should be. I added it.

Hallelujah.

Welcome back mojo, please don't stay away so long again.

This story is for once, plotted out in my mind. And in some bullet points.

I'm not hurrying it. In fact I'm savouring every word I type. It might be a load of codswallop, who knows. But the important thing is, I'm writing again

I've got the hunger, the need to put those words down. To weave the threads of my ideas together and to create a story I hope others will enjoy. There's no gosl other tan that.

Oh except for me to enjoy writing it.

And I am

And on that note,

Happy reading,

love Raven xxx

All pics from pinterest, prior posts or my own collection

Likes and dislikes…of the food sort

 I was sorting out the fridge. Seeing what was near its sell by date, and yes, what was past it. My other half has a cast iron stomach, and a propensity to decide the day after I’ve thrown something out, to ask where it is and say he was going to eat it, to which my reply was and is, “It was off and now it’s gone.” (I must add I do know about sell by, use by, and my own version of advice which is sniff, and maybe nibble.)

I’ve resorted to a list sometimes, where I’ve put the date of things I know must be used up. Stuff you can’t freeze, fancy and then forget about, to find it lurking in the back of the fridge and looking a bit fluffy, or the wrong colour, 

However, that isn’t really what this blog is all about. It’s more of food people love, hate, or ignore. Not food they are allergic to, that’s for another day.

 For instance, any cheese in our fridge I ignore. I dislike cheese. So it could be so out of date as to virtually walk out of the fridge by itself. I wouldn’t know. I don’t like the taste of cheese, though I have tried over the years. Different cheeses, ages…no no thank you. As for cooking cheese?  Pass me something to block my nose!

The rest of the family think it’s weird, but then, they each have something they don’t like. Thankfully not detest!

And we all like treats.

It makes me wonder a bit. I mean my parents had cheese whenever they could. In a sandwich or on toast. Me? I’d go for bread and jam or toast, and sit as far away from the cheese as I could. So why do I detest it? I have no idea.

I did a bit of an ask around over food tastes and the things people came back with as dislikes, were varied. From cheese, pears, and salt and vinegar crisps, to cabbage, cucumber, and sweetcorn. The list is varied. 

It helps to make some interesting attributes to give to characters in a story. I must find about food loves next.

How about a salt and vinegar hating, pear loving hero?

Happy reading everyone,

Love Raven xxx