I have I realise been a tad quiet of late. This is mainly because the school holidays started ridiculously early this year, as the school nos 2&3 go to decided most inconveniently they had to close six days early so they could get some building work done. (Yes I did say six days, and don't get me started on how annoying that is when they wouldn't let me have one piddling day's holiday last year to go to France, the one and only time I've ever asked for it). This was more then a tad inconvenient as not only do I have a novel to write by the end of October (gulp) I also had rather a lot of other work on. Thankfully a mum chum was in a similar position and we spent a few days swapping children in order that we both got a shot at working. Interestingly, for the first time EVER, I have discovered that so long as they all have a friend to play, my lot are now old enough that I can actually get some work done when they are in the house. Unfortunately that doesn't extend to writing which requires too much mental headspace, and I tend to find when the offspring are about they occupy all my mental headspace, so the two things clash a bit.
Which is why this week I've packed them all off to Stagecoach for a week's drama, singing and dancing. Who knows, one of them might turn out to be the next Keira Knightley. (Although given that no 1 is currently learning guitar, no 2 wants to learn the drums, no 3 is after playing the sax no 4 though undecided knows she wants to make NOISE, and there's a new rock school down the road, I think it's more likely they'll become The Williams Quartet. Hopefully more Corrslike then Nolans...)
Alot of mums I know complain about the holidays, as they don't know what to do with bored kids. This is one advantage of having four, because generally mine always have someone to play with. But the main reason I never complain is that it is SO BLOODY LOVELY not having to take them to school, and even better not having to take them to all their after school activities.
I have been utterly knackered since about January, and was beginning to think there was something seriously wrong with me. Not that I'm a hypochondriac or anything but anaemia, diabetes, cancer all went through my mind. Since the kids have stopped school, I feel like a new person. I am energetic. I am relaxed. I actually have time to do things. I've belatedly realised that this is because during term time I lose 2 hours a day to the school run, plus another 2-3 to hawking children from one activity to the next. So at the moment I'm 5 hours a day up on the deal and I don't have to go anywhere.
Thanks to all the exhaustion my bold plans to get a triathlon under my belt have come to nothing (again) and for the first time since I've started swimming properly I've missed a month's worth of training sessions. In fact, I've barely done anything since the Race for Life. I was getting a tad paranoid about this thinking I might go back to being a complete slouch in the pool, so when I finally got to swim last night I was more then a little nervous. I wasn't helped by the fact that I got in the pool, got going before everyone else in my lane, but turned out to be the slowest person there, so I was holding them all up so much that Lovely Trainer shoved me to the back (haven't had that humiliation for a while). But by the end of the session I'd caught up, and managed 66 lengths without too much difficulty. Not quite as fast or far as I swam a month ago, but considering everything not too bad at all...
So all things being equal I am planning to enjoy the rest of the summer, though I do have to stop blogging now to get on with writing a book (slightly inconveniently I have been trying to recall Christmas at the sunniest part of the year), and hope that when the sprogs eventually go back in September some of my newfound energy might last me until, ooh, at least October...
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Dr Who Meme
medium rob has posted a Dr Who Meme on his blog. Rather unfairly he wants us to choose only three of our favourite episodes from NuWho. Only, three, Rob? That's harsh... However, if you insist.
There is a bit of a theme going here, as all of them are by the same author (and not just because I used to share his surname). It's simply because for me Steven Moffat is King of Nu Who. He consistently, scares, thrills, delights and moves. Plus he's got my children doing all manner of spooky things from asking if I'm their mummy to abjuring me not to blink. It's quite something for a kids' tv show to tap so much into all our imaginations that I end up spooked by my own offpspring...
The first offering is a bit of a cheat, as it's a double parter, but I regard it as the same story, so first honours go to The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances, for introducing us to scary gas mask child who was the first nuWho character to terrify the whole family, and for that wonderful ending when Christopher Eccleston revels in the fact that just for once, everybody lived. I loved the darkness and rawness of the new series when the ninth doctor was suffering from the loss of his planet and people in the Time War, and it felt like here he got a bit of compensation. I also loved the ending when he remembers how to dance (but I've already posted that one on the other place).
Second choice (but probably has to count as my favourite) is The Girl in the Fireplace. Once again Moffat does it with scary monsters - those sort of monsters under the bed would certainly give me nightmares - but also it's funny (I loved the incongruity of the horse and Mickey teasing Rose about the Doctor calling Cleopatra Cleo), moving, and has a tender love story to boot. Sophie Myles as Madame de Pompadour is stunning, particularly the moment when she tells Rose that the Doctor always comes with monsters, and the rapport between her and David Tennant is fabulous. I particularly like the fact that he is prepared to sacrifice himself to the slow path for her, and his pain when he realises he's come back several years too late for her. Love it, love it, love it. Don't think Moffat's really topped this yet...
And last but most definitely not least, the superlative Blink. Again, another great scary story - I will never ever look at statues in the same way again, and one which really creeped us all out. It also features David Tennant talking about timey wimey stuff (sigh), and a great warning: Whatever you do, don't blink! I also loved the absurdity of the end when Sally Sparrow finally meets the Doctor properly and he's wandering about with a bow and arrow. Priceless. Carey Mulligan as Sally Sparrow is just fantastic. Wouldn't she be great as the new companion? All in all another cracker from Steven Moffat. Let's hope he gives us more of the same in 2010...
And if I'd been left up to my own devices and not constrained by Rob, I'd also have added from Series 1: Father's Day for poignancy and brilliant you can't undo time kind of stuff, and The Parting of the Ways because I liked Bad Wolf, and I loved the way Christopher Ecclestone looks at Rose and says, Ah Rose, I had so much I wanted to show you (what can I say? I write romantic fiction). From Series 2 I'd have to add Tooth and Claw because I loved the werewolf and Doomsday for the hilarious meeting between the Cybermen and the Daleks, and bittersweet ending (which you should really have left alone Russell). In Series 3 I also loved the Human Nature/Family of Blood double parter. And finally, in Series 4. I thought Turn Left was stunning and The Stolen Earth had the best cliffhanger ever.
But as I can't include those, you'll have to make do with Moffat...
There is a bit of a theme going here, as all of them are by the same author (and not just because I used to share his surname). It's simply because for me Steven Moffat is King of Nu Who. He consistently, scares, thrills, delights and moves. Plus he's got my children doing all manner of spooky things from asking if I'm their mummy to abjuring me not to blink. It's quite something for a kids' tv show to tap so much into all our imaginations that I end up spooked by my own offpspring...
The first offering is a bit of a cheat, as it's a double parter, but I regard it as the same story, so first honours go to The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances, for introducing us to scary gas mask child who was the first nuWho character to terrify the whole family, and for that wonderful ending when Christopher Eccleston revels in the fact that just for once, everybody lived. I loved the darkness and rawness of the new series when the ninth doctor was suffering from the loss of his planet and people in the Time War, and it felt like here he got a bit of compensation. I also loved the ending when he remembers how to dance (but I've already posted that one on the other place).
Second choice (but probably has to count as my favourite) is The Girl in the Fireplace. Once again Moffat does it with scary monsters - those sort of monsters under the bed would certainly give me nightmares - but also it's funny (I loved the incongruity of the horse and Mickey teasing Rose about the Doctor calling Cleopatra Cleo), moving, and has a tender love story to boot. Sophie Myles as Madame de Pompadour is stunning, particularly the moment when she tells Rose that the Doctor always comes with monsters, and the rapport between her and David Tennant is fabulous. I particularly like the fact that he is prepared to sacrifice himself to the slow path for her, and his pain when he realises he's come back several years too late for her. Love it, love it, love it. Don't think Moffat's really topped this yet...
And last but most definitely not least, the superlative Blink. Again, another great scary story - I will never ever look at statues in the same way again, and one which really creeped us all out. It also features David Tennant talking about timey wimey stuff (sigh), and a great warning: Whatever you do, don't blink! I also loved the absurdity of the end when Sally Sparrow finally meets the Doctor properly and he's wandering about with a bow and arrow. Priceless. Carey Mulligan as Sally Sparrow is just fantastic. Wouldn't she be great as the new companion? All in all another cracker from Steven Moffat. Let's hope he gives us more of the same in 2010...
And if I'd been left up to my own devices and not constrained by Rob, I'd also have added from Series 1: Father's Day for poignancy and brilliant you can't undo time kind of stuff, and The Parting of the Ways because I liked Bad Wolf, and I loved the way Christopher Ecclestone looks at Rose and says, Ah Rose, I had so much I wanted to show you (what can I say? I write romantic fiction). From Series 2 I'd have to add Tooth and Claw because I loved the werewolf and Doomsday for the hilarious meeting between the Cybermen and the Daleks, and bittersweet ending (which you should really have left alone Russell). In Series 3 I also loved the Human Nature/Family of Blood double parter. And finally, in Series 4. I thought Turn Left was stunning and The Stolen Earth had the best cliffhanger ever.
But as I can't include those, you'll have to make do with Moffat...
Inconveniences of going for a ride in the Mean Machine
1) A tendency to get a very sunburnt forehead (Him).
2) Hair that ends up looking like a Care Bear's (Her).
3) Need to duck to avoid passing shrapnel when you go down stony roads.
4) Bruised spine from driving over bumps.
5) When it rains you get very very wet.
Do we care?
Um....
No
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
St Swithin's Day
Today is St Swithin's Day. And according to an old wives' tale.
St Swithin’s Day, if it does rain
Full forty days, it will remain
St Swithin’s Day, if it be fair
For forty days, t'will rain no more
So if you had rain in your neck of the woods, then that's it for your summer, pal.
St Swithin , whose feast day is today, was the Bishop of Winchester in the 9th century and the story goes that when he died in 962 he requested his body be placed outside the cathedral, as he didn't want any fuss. His wishes were ignored and it rained for forty days and forty nights until everyone got the hint and they moved his body back pronto. Although apparently he got moved again and his body parts split up as by now he was a saint and the middle ages being what they were, his relics were in popular demand. This though didn't result in flooding, which strikes me as a tad peculiar. I think I'd be a bit more peeved being sold as relics then being buried indoors, but there you go.
I know all of this because, today is my birthday, so as children Mad Twin and I spent every year anxiously looking out for rain.
Our mother in (what I can only imagine was a pethadine induced haze) was going to call us Felicity and Swithina (guess who'd have been Swithina), but I am pleased to say my father intervened. In her defence she had been under considerable strain - she caught pneumonia before we were born and was stuck in hospital for six weeks, we were two weeks late, and when we did eventually arrive, I got stuck on my shoulder, they gave her an anaesthetic to which she was so allergic she nearly died, and eventually they pulled me round and yanked me unceremoniously out by my feet. I suppose we're both probably quite lucky to still be here...
As a birthday treat Spouse took the day off today.
Fancy some candyfloss on Brighton Beach? he said to me at about 10am this morning.
As I rarely stray five minutes from home mid week I can't say this was an idea that had crossed my mind. But given the opportunity to have a) a whole day with my other half and WITHOUT the children (I don't mean to sound ungrateful but it's so rare it's bloody lovely when it happens) and b) a chance to go for a proper spin in his boy's toy, about which I've meaning to blog for ages, I couldn't do anything but say yes.
The boy's toy is a Caterham 7. Built by himself last year.
When we first met he told me his ambition was to build himself a kitcar. At the age of eighteen he had had the money to build one, but not the money to tax and insure it. When his father was approached with the humble request to bolster the finances, he laughed like a drain and said, "Insure a car that YOU built, you have to be joking!" So that as they say was that.
Scroll on several years, and finally he had enough money to build his car, but being Spouse felt he should spend it on something sensible like an ISA. My thinking is, life is too short, and we're a long time dead. So, I said go for it, which I'm pleased to say he did.
The result is a Mean Machine in British Racing Green (natch), which scares the bejaysus out of me (but then I am a girlie wuss). However. I discovered today, that girlie wuss though I am, it is actually fantastically exciting doing 70+ in a car that is low on the ground and in which you are exposed to the elements. The excitement gets nearer to terror the closer to 80mph you get, and I realised fairly soon my top limit is 85mph, at which point you feel the air sucking out of your cheeks, the wind feels like arrows on your face and your hair feels like it might just fly off your head. But I'm proud to say I only had ONE moment where I shouted Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! and I SUDDENLY GET WHAT THE TOP GEAR GUYS ARE TALKING ABOUT. Going fast is Fun with a capital F.
Particularly when you get to park a car like this under the arches at Brighton...
We sat on the beach and had fish and chips in the brief moment of sunshine, before heading off up the coast and home via Worthing. The Fuck Fuck Fuck moments occurred sometime on the A24 and I did have to remind Spouse I wanted to live at least till the END of my birthday.
But to spend a day with him, in this, I think it was worth it... Cos even, if like me you aren't into cars. You have to admit. This one is rather cool...
St Swithin’s Day, if it does rain
Full forty days, it will remain
St Swithin’s Day, if it be fair
For forty days, t'will rain no more
So if you had rain in your neck of the woods, then that's it for your summer, pal.
St Swithin , whose feast day is today, was the Bishop of Winchester in the 9th century and the story goes that when he died in 962 he requested his body be placed outside the cathedral, as he didn't want any fuss. His wishes were ignored and it rained for forty days and forty nights until everyone got the hint and they moved his body back pronto. Although apparently he got moved again and his body parts split up as by now he was a saint and the middle ages being what they were, his relics were in popular demand. This though didn't result in flooding, which strikes me as a tad peculiar. I think I'd be a bit more peeved being sold as relics then being buried indoors, but there you go.I know all of this because, today is my birthday, so as children Mad Twin and I spent every year anxiously looking out for rain.
Our mother in (what I can only imagine was a pethadine induced haze) was going to call us Felicity and Swithina (guess who'd have been Swithina), but I am pleased to say my father intervened. In her defence she had been under considerable strain - she caught pneumonia before we were born and was stuck in hospital for six weeks, we were two weeks late, and when we did eventually arrive, I got stuck on my shoulder, they gave her an anaesthetic to which she was so allergic she nearly died, and eventually they pulled me round and yanked me unceremoniously out by my feet. I suppose we're both probably quite lucky to still be here...
As a birthday treat Spouse took the day off today.
Fancy some candyfloss on Brighton Beach? he said to me at about 10am this morning.
As I rarely stray five minutes from home mid week I can't say this was an idea that had crossed my mind. But given the opportunity to have a) a whole day with my other half and WITHOUT the children (I don't mean to sound ungrateful but it's so rare it's bloody lovely when it happens) and b) a chance to go for a proper spin in his boy's toy, about which I've meaning to blog for ages, I couldn't do anything but say yes.
The boy's toy is a Caterham 7. Built by himself last year.
When we first met he told me his ambition was to build himself a kitcar. At the age of eighteen he had had the money to build one, but not the money to tax and insure it. When his father was approached with the humble request to bolster the finances, he laughed like a drain and said, "Insure a car that YOU built, you have to be joking!" So that as they say was that.
Scroll on several years, and finally he had enough money to build his car, but being Spouse felt he should spend it on something sensible like an ISA. My thinking is, life is too short, and we're a long time dead. So, I said go for it, which I'm pleased to say he did.
The result is a Mean Machine in British Racing Green (natch), which scares the bejaysus out of me (but then I am a girlie wuss). However. I discovered today, that girlie wuss though I am, it is actually fantastically exciting doing 70+ in a car that is low on the ground and in which you are exposed to the elements. The excitement gets nearer to terror the closer to 80mph you get, and I realised fairly soon my top limit is 85mph, at which point you feel the air sucking out of your cheeks, the wind feels like arrows on your face and your hair feels like it might just fly off your head. But I'm proud to say I only had ONE moment where I shouted Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! and I SUDDENLY GET WHAT THE TOP GEAR GUYS ARE TALKING ABOUT. Going fast is Fun with a capital F.
Particularly when you get to park a car like this under the arches at Brighton...
We sat on the beach and had fish and chips in the brief moment of sunshine, before heading off up the coast and home via Worthing. The Fuck Fuck Fuck moments occurred sometime on the A24 and I did have to remind Spouse I wanted to live at least till the END of my birthday.
But to spend a day with him, in this, I think it was worth it... Cos even, if like me you aren't into cars. You have to admit. This one is rather cool...
Thursday, July 10, 2008
DOCTOR WHO!!!!
I have noticed in the last few days there has been alot of heated debate on the blogosphere about the merits and demerits of Journey's End. Alot of it seems to be of the : It was the best episode ever! You cannot be a true fan if you hate it. It was the worst episode ever! You cannot be a true fan if you love it variety. Hmm. Room for compromise anywhere, peeps?
So I thought given that this is a programme for kids which some grown ups seem to be taking far too seriously, I'd share with you this Doctor Who story inscribed with great care over the last few nights by number 4 aged six. Her nickname in our house is Sniffy - so she is currently going under the name of the Sniffeen. As far as I'm concerned, ANYTHING that can fire up the imagination of a child like this has to be a Good Thing. Russell T Davies, I salute you.
It's all a bit stream of consciousness, it would appear that Year One only ecompasses Capital Letters and full stops in punctuation terms and her spelling leaves a lot to be desired, but I did rather like her description of regeneration....
(Sadly I am having a problem with my scanner otherwise this would include pics)
Doctor Who!!!!!
by the Sniffeen aged 6
Chapter One
Once upon a Sunday there was a girl called Rose and she went out. On the way she met a man called the Doctor.
(Rose with speech bubble, wat's your name!! The Doctor speech bubble Hi!!!!!!)
The Doctor said come with me ok and by the way my names the Doctor. The Doctor showed rose his Tardis.
Rose said its bigger on the inside. Is it said the Doctor I hadnt noticed!
The Doctor said come out theres a surprise for you. Then Rose opened the door and sore some daliks.
Chapter 2
The black dalik said my name is dalik seck is it said the Doctor hang on Ive met you before yes you have. I folode you all the way here!!!
The Doctor said Im going to kill you with this gun but Dalik Seck killed the Doctor instead. Rose said how deri you kill my boyfriend.
(Rose speech bubble How dere you as she looks at dead Doctor)
Chapter 3
Rose asked dalik Seck. Why did you kill the Doctor. He is an enermy of the Daliks.
Is he. Yes he is. Then Dalik Seck showed rose captin Jack hi said Rose hi said Captin Jack. The Doctors died said Rose. He has died are you shore said Captin Jack. Yes said Rose I am very shore said Rose. I saw it all dalik seck killed the Doctor because the Doctor pointed a gun at Dalik Seck said Rose.
Dalik Cannn (Where did he spring from? - Continuity? - ed) said you are called Rose. Rose said yes I am. How do they know said Rose. Captin Jack said they no everyones name. I hate the (I THINK IT SAYS) pain said Captin Jack.
(Speech bubble from Dalik Cannn saying You are called Rose!!!!!)
Then Rose and Captin Jack carryed the Doctor into the tardis and then he reagenoratid fire was coming out from his eyes and hands. He had changed his hole body.
THE END!!!!!
So I thought given that this is a programme for kids which some grown ups seem to be taking far too seriously, I'd share with you this Doctor Who story inscribed with great care over the last few nights by number 4 aged six. Her nickname in our house is Sniffy - so she is currently going under the name of the Sniffeen. As far as I'm concerned, ANYTHING that can fire up the imagination of a child like this has to be a Good Thing. Russell T Davies, I salute you.
It's all a bit stream of consciousness, it would appear that Year One only ecompasses Capital Letters and full stops in punctuation terms and her spelling leaves a lot to be desired, but I did rather like her description of regeneration....
(Sadly I am having a problem with my scanner otherwise this would include pics)
Doctor Who!!!!!
by the Sniffeen aged 6
Chapter One
Once upon a Sunday there was a girl called Rose and she went out. On the way she met a man called the Doctor.
(Rose with speech bubble, wat's your name!! The Doctor speech bubble Hi!!!!!!)
The Doctor said come with me ok and by the way my names the Doctor. The Doctor showed rose his Tardis.
Rose said its bigger on the inside. Is it said the Doctor I hadnt noticed!
The Doctor said come out theres a surprise for you. Then Rose opened the door and sore some daliks.
Chapter 2
The black dalik said my name is dalik seck is it said the Doctor hang on Ive met you before yes you have. I folode you all the way here!!!
The Doctor said Im going to kill you with this gun but Dalik Seck killed the Doctor instead. Rose said how deri you kill my boyfriend.
(Rose speech bubble How dere you as she looks at dead Doctor)
Chapter 3
Rose asked dalik Seck. Why did you kill the Doctor. He is an enermy of the Daliks.
Is he. Yes he is. Then Dalik Seck showed rose captin Jack hi said Rose hi said Captin Jack. The Doctors died said Rose. He has died are you shore said Captin Jack. Yes said Rose I am very shore said Rose. I saw it all dalik seck killed the Doctor because the Doctor pointed a gun at Dalik Seck said Rose.
Dalik Cannn (Where did he spring from? - Continuity? - ed) said you are called Rose. Rose said yes I am. How do they know said Rose. Captin Jack said they no everyones name. I hate the (I THINK IT SAYS) pain said Captin Jack.
(Speech bubble from Dalik Cannn saying You are called Rose!!!!!)
Then Rose and Captin Jack carryed the Doctor into the tardis and then he reagenoratid fire was coming out from his eyes and hands. He had changed his hole body.
THE END!!!!!
Monday, July 07, 2008
Doctor Who: Journey's End
Better late then never...
Well. There seems to be rather a lot of cross Whovians out there on the Internet, and in some ways I can't blame them...
I am fully with Marie about the rubbish ending Rose got, but I also think Lisa and Anna's assessments are quite fair too.
So...
Here goes, this is what I thought of it.
I know, I know. The will he won't he regenerate being solved in ten seconds flat was a bit disappointing, but I did kind of enjoy being played with, and well... at least we get to keep David Tennant for a bit longer.
I really enjoyed Jackie and Mickey arriving to save Sarah Jane, and thank THE LORD, SJ and Jack were miles better this week. Jack and Mickey's reunion was hilarious.
Jack: Hallo Mickey Mouse
Mickey: Hi Captain Cheescake
Jack: That's beefcake
Mickey: That's enough hugging.
Torchwood being trapped in a time vault? Best place for 'em.
I was really on the edge of my seat when the Doctor finally met Davros who was properly scary just like a Dr Who villain should be, and also mad as a hatter. Great. That's how an arch nemesis is SUPPOSED to behave.
Martha transporting to Germany was fabulous, just to hear those German daleks saying Extermineren... I thought that was a stroke of genius.
I really enjoyed the companions doing their bargaining trick, while the Doctor was made to see what he did to people. That was brilliant and bleak, and David Tennant showed again what a fabulous wonderful actor he is. You don't just see his pain, you feel it. I think he deserved a bit more support from them all though. Let's face it, what he does do is inspire the best in people, they are prepared to die for him for a reason. Because he makes the universe a better place, and without him, as we saw in Turn Left things go horribly wrong. (Yes, I do realise I am talking about him as if he exists. Please don't disabuse me of the notion).
The other absolutely wonderful thing about this episode was the Doctor/Donna strand. It was brilliant. I had despite my best intentions been trawling the internet last week and seen all sorts of spoilers about Donna. I thought there would be a Timelord connection because of the beating heart, but I was really glad that Donna as the Rani/Donna as Romana never came to pass, and it was a surprise that she became part Doctor. No spoilers. Total surprise. Fan-bloody- tastic. Especially as Catherine Tate and David Tennant copied each other so brilliantly. That was hilarious. Especially when they came back, saved the day and started sending planets back home. I loved that.
I also unashamedly loved the scene when everyone got to fly the Tardis home (Not you, Jackie - ha!), and silly and all as it was, I loved the use of the time rift as a lassoo. But then I like my Dr Who silly from time to time. Cos, let's face it. This is a programme about an alien, who goes through Time and Space in a BLUE BOX. And that's NOT silly????
Now... though. To the bits I didn't like.
So it was hi hi companions, and bye bye companions pretty quickly.
Sarah Jane off to have some more adventures with Luke and co.
Jack, Martha and Mickey off to take part in the next series of Torchwood. Maybe it will be better for it. I certainly hope they can bring some of Dr Who Jack , who was thoroughly splendid in this episode, into Torchwood, where he is frankly a bit crap.
And then it was Rose.
Oh bloody hell. Why oh why did he have to do that to Rose. I'd rather she'd never been brought back from her parallel universe. I might have mentioned before, I like my romantic endings bitter sweet. Characters kept apart by being trapped in parallel universes/time slip stuff work for me (Sliding Doors/Amber Spyglass/Sterkarm Handshake/Time Traveller's Wife). I even have such a story up my sleeve to write one day, I hope. But.... oh god, this was so wrong. Dr2 (not Who) isn't the Doctor. For starters he's part Donna. And then he's only got one heart. And he's not got a Tardis. AND he's just committed genocide. Rose would have to be pretty shallow to want to stay with him wouldn't she? Please RTD don't tell me she is. I love Rose too much to see her suffer that fate.
In a way I kind of see he's done a bit of Sarah Jane on her. Dumping her back in the parallel universe because, really he is a Time Lord and he doesn't get it. He thinks he is helping her, but can't see that he's not (I'm trying to put a positive spin on this, because I hate it so much). Donna got it right at the beginning; Two hearts? Why do I want to mate with that. Rose and the Doctor can't ever be together because he isn't human. But then... how does that work with River Song then???
So yes. Very disappointed that Rose not only didn't get her Doctor but got a carbon copy. That is so not going to work. Having had people fancy me because they think I am my twin, and others fancying her because they think she's me, I can tell you categorically that no one gets over the disappointment of discovering the object of their affection isn't the right twin. Rose cannot possibly fall in love with this Doctor, because he isn't hers. Crap crap crap ending. And I think from what Billie Piper said on Dr Who Confidential, she agrees. I do hope we see Rose again, because I think she deserves better then that.
As to Donna. Again total surprise. Bloody terrible cruel ending for her too. Awful. Awful. To make her go back to what she'd been. Would it have been better to let her keep travelling and burn out? Not sure at all. It is a bit like a reverse of the It Was All A Dream Dallas storyline. And probably another copout. RTD doesn't want to kill off the Doctor's companions apparently because it's a kid's show. Well. I think they could take it, even if they were distraught. No 3 cried for WEEKS after Rose left first time around and no 1 hasn't stopped going on about how sad she is about Donna. I'm not sure they'd have been less upset by seeing her die properly.
I also always feel cheated by the You Have To Forget All About This ending - ever since I read the brilliant Susan Cooper Dark is Rising series, which remains among my favourite fantasy reading. Except the ending... All the characters you have loved over five books, who've had wonderful adventures and done amazing things then don't get to remember any of it. WHY NOT???? That is so unfair to them and to the reader. (If I ever get to my parallel universe story, I am going to make damned sure my characters remember everything, however much pain they suffer.)
So yes. Didn't really like Donna going back to normal, although I rather hope that her bloody awful mother is a bit nicer to her now. (What is it with RTD and mothers, he is pretty down on them isn't he?). And if the Doctor has any kind of compassion he will search the universe high and low for the bloke she met in the Library episode, so at least Donna can get the life she never had in virtual reality. (How I love Doctor Who for letting me write incomprehensible sentences like that).
But...
Having moaned about all that. Oh God. I found the last ten minutes absolutely gut wrenchingly awful. Bernard Cribbins and David Tennant pulled out all the stops to make you realise the full extent of the tragedy, not just for Donna, but for the Doctor.
Now he truly is alone.
And I have to say. As endings go, I did rather like that.
Well. There seems to be rather a lot of cross Whovians out there on the Internet, and in some ways I can't blame them...
I am fully with Marie about the rubbish ending Rose got, but I also think Lisa and Anna's assessments are quite fair too.
So...
Here goes, this is what I thought of it.
I know, I know. The will he won't he regenerate being solved in ten seconds flat was a bit disappointing, but I did kind of enjoy being played with, and well... at least we get to keep David Tennant for a bit longer.
I really enjoyed Jackie and Mickey arriving to save Sarah Jane, and thank THE LORD, SJ and Jack were miles better this week. Jack and Mickey's reunion was hilarious.
Jack: Hallo Mickey Mouse
Mickey: Hi Captain Cheescake
Jack: That's beefcake
Mickey: That's enough hugging.
Torchwood being trapped in a time vault? Best place for 'em.
I was really on the edge of my seat when the Doctor finally met Davros who was properly scary just like a Dr Who villain should be, and also mad as a hatter. Great. That's how an arch nemesis is SUPPOSED to behave.
Martha transporting to Germany was fabulous, just to hear those German daleks saying Extermineren... I thought that was a stroke of genius.
I really enjoyed the companions doing their bargaining trick, while the Doctor was made to see what he did to people. That was brilliant and bleak, and David Tennant showed again what a fabulous wonderful actor he is. You don't just see his pain, you feel it. I think he deserved a bit more support from them all though. Let's face it, what he does do is inspire the best in people, they are prepared to die for him for a reason. Because he makes the universe a better place, and without him, as we saw in Turn Left things go horribly wrong. (Yes, I do realise I am talking about him as if he exists. Please don't disabuse me of the notion).
The other absolutely wonderful thing about this episode was the Doctor/Donna strand. It was brilliant. I had despite my best intentions been trawling the internet last week and seen all sorts of spoilers about Donna. I thought there would be a Timelord connection because of the beating heart, but I was really glad that Donna as the Rani/Donna as Romana never came to pass, and it was a surprise that she became part Doctor. No spoilers. Total surprise. Fan-bloody- tastic. Especially as Catherine Tate and David Tennant copied each other so brilliantly. That was hilarious. Especially when they came back, saved the day and started sending planets back home. I loved that.
I also unashamedly loved the scene when everyone got to fly the Tardis home (Not you, Jackie - ha!), and silly and all as it was, I loved the use of the time rift as a lassoo. But then I like my Dr Who silly from time to time. Cos, let's face it. This is a programme about an alien, who goes through Time and Space in a BLUE BOX. And that's NOT silly????
Now... though. To the bits I didn't like.
So it was hi hi companions, and bye bye companions pretty quickly.
Sarah Jane off to have some more adventures with Luke and co.
Jack, Martha and Mickey off to take part in the next series of Torchwood. Maybe it will be better for it. I certainly hope they can bring some of Dr Who Jack , who was thoroughly splendid in this episode, into Torchwood, where he is frankly a bit crap.
And then it was Rose.
Oh bloody hell. Why oh why did he have to do that to Rose. I'd rather she'd never been brought back from her parallel universe. I might have mentioned before, I like my romantic endings bitter sweet. Characters kept apart by being trapped in parallel universes/time slip stuff work for me (Sliding Doors/Amber Spyglass/Sterkarm Handshake/Time Traveller's Wife). I even have such a story up my sleeve to write one day, I hope. But.... oh god, this was so wrong. Dr2 (not Who) isn't the Doctor. For starters he's part Donna. And then he's only got one heart. And he's not got a Tardis. AND he's just committed genocide. Rose would have to be pretty shallow to want to stay with him wouldn't she? Please RTD don't tell me she is. I love Rose too much to see her suffer that fate.
In a way I kind of see he's done a bit of Sarah Jane on her. Dumping her back in the parallel universe because, really he is a Time Lord and he doesn't get it. He thinks he is helping her, but can't see that he's not (I'm trying to put a positive spin on this, because I hate it so much). Donna got it right at the beginning; Two hearts? Why do I want to mate with that. Rose and the Doctor can't ever be together because he isn't human. But then... how does that work with River Song then???
So yes. Very disappointed that Rose not only didn't get her Doctor but got a carbon copy. That is so not going to work. Having had people fancy me because they think I am my twin, and others fancying her because they think she's me, I can tell you categorically that no one gets over the disappointment of discovering the object of their affection isn't the right twin. Rose cannot possibly fall in love with this Doctor, because he isn't hers. Crap crap crap ending. And I think from what Billie Piper said on Dr Who Confidential, she agrees. I do hope we see Rose again, because I think she deserves better then that.
As to Donna. Again total surprise. Bloody terrible cruel ending for her too. Awful. Awful. To make her go back to what she'd been. Would it have been better to let her keep travelling and burn out? Not sure at all. It is a bit like a reverse of the It Was All A Dream Dallas storyline. And probably another copout. RTD doesn't want to kill off the Doctor's companions apparently because it's a kid's show. Well. I think they could take it, even if they were distraught. No 3 cried for WEEKS after Rose left first time around and no 1 hasn't stopped going on about how sad she is about Donna. I'm not sure they'd have been less upset by seeing her die properly.
I also always feel cheated by the You Have To Forget All About This ending - ever since I read the brilliant Susan Cooper Dark is Rising series, which remains among my favourite fantasy reading. Except the ending... All the characters you have loved over five books, who've had wonderful adventures and done amazing things then don't get to remember any of it. WHY NOT???? That is so unfair to them and to the reader. (If I ever get to my parallel universe story, I am going to make damned sure my characters remember everything, however much pain they suffer.)
So yes. Didn't really like Donna going back to normal, although I rather hope that her bloody awful mother is a bit nicer to her now. (What is it with RTD and mothers, he is pretty down on them isn't he?). And if the Doctor has any kind of compassion he will search the universe high and low for the bloke she met in the Library episode, so at least Donna can get the life she never had in virtual reality. (How I love Doctor Who for letting me write incomprehensible sentences like that).
But...
Having moaned about all that. Oh God. I found the last ten minutes absolutely gut wrenchingly awful. Bernard Cribbins and David Tennant pulled out all the stops to make you realise the full extent of the tragedy, not just for Donna, but for the Doctor.
Now he truly is alone.
And I have to say. As endings go, I did rather like that.
Saturday, July 05, 2008
It's the final countdown...
I know inexplcably there appear to be readers of my blog who don't get my obsession with Dr Who. You will be pleased to know it's the last episode of the current run, so normal services will resume shortly.
For the rest of you, I expect you are sharing my excitement (Woohoo Russell, HOW are you going to get them out of that?), anticipation and slight anxiety that it might turn out to be one damp squib. I really really hope that my lovely blogging friend Marie Phillips isn't right and Donna wakes up to find it all a dream...
Talking of Marie. If perchance you HAVEN'T yet purchased Gods Behaving Badly (and if not, why not?) it's out in paperback right now. So now's your chance...
For the rest of you, I expect you are sharing my excitement (Woohoo Russell, HOW are you going to get them out of that?), anticipation and slight anxiety that it might turn out to be one damp squib. I really really hope that my lovely blogging friend Marie Phillips isn't right and Donna wakes up to find it all a dream...
Talking of Marie. If perchance you HAVEN'T yet purchased Gods Behaving Badly (and if not, why not?) it's out in paperback right now. So now's your chance...
Thanks to the aforementioned lovely Marie, while watching the current series of Dr Who I have trip trapped my way onto several other blogs whose writers share my level of obsessive fangirldom. Said writers have all been very nice and welcoming and I have had such a lot of fun exchanging views on what we all think of a given episode. So, as it's the series finale, I'd just like to say a huge hurrah for the bloggers listed below, and thanks so much for letting me come to your party. I don't know about you guys, but I'm not quite sure what I'm going to do till Dr Who comes back properly in 2010 (join Lisa in obsessing about Dougie Henshall's hair probably), but at least I am going to see the lovely David Tennant twice, which may just help me survive...
http://www.annawaits.blogspot.com/
www.the-word-is-not-enough.com/blog/rob/
http://www.rullsenbergrules.blogspot.com/
http://www.grapegirl.blogspot.com/
http://www.womanwhotalkedtoomuch.blogspot.com//
www.the-word-is-not-enough.com/blog/rob/
http://www.rullsenbergrules.blogspot.com/
http://www.grapegirl.blogspot.com/
http://www.womanwhotalkedtoomuch.blogspot.com//
You should all be on my blogroll really, but that's a bloggy task I somehow never get to, so you are definitely all there in spirit anyway...
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
Woohoo!!!
Here is the lovely cover for the new book. Strictly Love will, I believe be hitting the shops in September. I continue to blog about all things related to it over at the other place, but this is sooo gorgeous I am putting it all over the place. Copy will be going up at the website shortly, but probably not now as running a little short of time...
Among other publicity stuff I am doing, I have to come up with a story for Cat Magazine by 21 July. For some reason inexplicably, at the moment all I can think of is black cats, graveyards and nefarious practices. Not sure that's quite what they're after.
I have to say, there's never a dull moment when you're a writer...
Among other publicity stuff I am doing, I have to come up with a story for Cat Magazine by 21 July. For some reason inexplicably, at the moment all I can think of is black cats, graveyards and nefarious practices. Not sure that's quite what they're after.
I have to say, there's never a dull moment when you're a writer...
Talk about stating the obvious...
Apparently the new dental contract introduced by our lords and masters (and opposed by the majority of dentists in this country) two years ago is letting patients down and according to ITN news nearly a million FEWER people now see a dentist then before the changes were introduced.
In the Bad Old Days before the new contract dentists were paid piecemeal. ie, for every item of treatment they were paid a fee. The system was unnecessarily complex and in need of an overhaul (for eg, when dental pay rises were staggered over the year, this meant the NHS price list was changed twice a year, which was wasteful, costly and confusing). The new contract was meant to take dentists off the treadmill of what was known in the trade as bashing the Nash, because they saw so many people during the day. (When you go private my dear readers, what you are paying for is more time with your dentist and slightly better materials). The new contract was meant to change all that. By introducing a three tiered banding system, and paying dentists by units of dental activity (UDAs), dentists were going to be freed up to work in their patients best interests.
Instead what has happened is that they have replaced one form of treadmill for another. The first year the new contract was in place, Spouse had a target based on his previous NHS earnings. As he is a very good (ok I'm biased) and productive NHS dentist, his target was rather high. Net result was by February of the first year (year end is April) he was 13% BEHIND his target. He worked like a demon, under immense stress to hit it, otherwise he'd have lost out financially. In the past, he earned money on how productive he was, now he has a figure to achieve, but if he doesn't hit his targets, he will lose out. Last year was better, but at the end of this year, he faces the great imponderable, as all the money PCTs paid to dentists were ring fenced for three years. Come next April, the whole lot gets renegotiated again, and I bet no one is planning to renegotiate upwards.
The NHS obsession with targets (or the government's obsession with everyone hitting targets) is not only absurd, it is positively detrimental to good practice in dentistry or any other form or health care. The new dental contract has done nothing to improve dental care - if anything from what Spouse says it encourages less scrupulous dentists to be neglectful, or to opt for pulling teeth out rather then mending them, because it's cheaper to have a tooth pulled out (band 2, £44.60) rather then have some restorative work done (band 3 £198). This is crap for the patient. It's also crap for the dentist. If you have one filling or ten, you still get to pay £44.60 - so looking after your teeth does you no good, and the dentist has to work harder on the patient who doesn't care for their teeth for the same money. It's a barking system thought up by some faceless bureaucrat who's clearly never seen the inside of a dental surgery in their life.
No wonder people aren't going to the dentist and NHS dentists are flocking to the private sector. This was all too predictable two years ago, and I agree with the Health Committee which has just decided it was extraordinary that the Department of Health didn't trial this first. Well, they did actually, but only using a very small sample of dentists.
The tragedy is of course, that patients lose out. One of the advantages of seeing your dentist regularly is that he or she can pick up signs of other health issues, Spouse refers to the mouth as being the window on the body, and all sorts of things can crop up their which indicate problems elsewhere. It could potentially cost the NHS more for people not to visit their dentist, if preventable health problems get picked up too late.
But will anyone think of that? Somehow I doubt it...
In the Bad Old Days before the new contract dentists were paid piecemeal. ie, for every item of treatment they were paid a fee. The system was unnecessarily complex and in need of an overhaul (for eg, when dental pay rises were staggered over the year, this meant the NHS price list was changed twice a year, which was wasteful, costly and confusing). The new contract was meant to take dentists off the treadmill of what was known in the trade as bashing the Nash, because they saw so many people during the day. (When you go private my dear readers, what you are paying for is more time with your dentist and slightly better materials). The new contract was meant to change all that. By introducing a three tiered banding system, and paying dentists by units of dental activity (UDAs), dentists were going to be freed up to work in their patients best interests.
Instead what has happened is that they have replaced one form of treadmill for another. The first year the new contract was in place, Spouse had a target based on his previous NHS earnings. As he is a very good (ok I'm biased) and productive NHS dentist, his target was rather high. Net result was by February of the first year (year end is April) he was 13% BEHIND his target. He worked like a demon, under immense stress to hit it, otherwise he'd have lost out financially. In the past, he earned money on how productive he was, now he has a figure to achieve, but if he doesn't hit his targets, he will lose out. Last year was better, but at the end of this year, he faces the great imponderable, as all the money PCTs paid to dentists were ring fenced for three years. Come next April, the whole lot gets renegotiated again, and I bet no one is planning to renegotiate upwards.
The NHS obsession with targets (or the government's obsession with everyone hitting targets) is not only absurd, it is positively detrimental to good practice in dentistry or any other form or health care. The new dental contract has done nothing to improve dental care - if anything from what Spouse says it encourages less scrupulous dentists to be neglectful, or to opt for pulling teeth out rather then mending them, because it's cheaper to have a tooth pulled out (band 2, £44.60) rather then have some restorative work done (band 3 £198). This is crap for the patient. It's also crap for the dentist. If you have one filling or ten, you still get to pay £44.60 - so looking after your teeth does you no good, and the dentist has to work harder on the patient who doesn't care for their teeth for the same money. It's a barking system thought up by some faceless bureaucrat who's clearly never seen the inside of a dental surgery in their life.
No wonder people aren't going to the dentist and NHS dentists are flocking to the private sector. This was all too predictable two years ago, and I agree with the Health Committee which has just decided it was extraordinary that the Department of Health didn't trial this first. Well, they did actually, but only using a very small sample of dentists.
The tragedy is of course, that patients lose out. One of the advantages of seeing your dentist regularly is that he or she can pick up signs of other health issues, Spouse refers to the mouth as being the window on the body, and all sorts of things can crop up their which indicate problems elsewhere. It could potentially cost the NHS more for people not to visit their dentist, if preventable health problems get picked up too late.
But will anyone think of that? Somehow I doubt it...
Sunday, June 29, 2008
And now to Dr Who: The Stolen Earth
Oh my god, Oh my god. OH MY GOD!!! Was that not the best ever ever episode of nu Who??? It was even better then The Parting of The Ways (my previous favourite).
Please be prepared here for a lot of over excitement and general squeeing. (A new word I learnt recently from visiting other DrWho Fan blogs, and one which fits my general mood to a T).
You have to hand it to RTD, he certainly knows how to take you on a roller coaster.
So first we get the Doctor and Donna arriving on Earth. So far so good. Except. It isn't. Because within seconds of going back inside the Tardis the Earth disapppears, leaving no trace behind. Cue lots of puzzlement from the Doc before he decides to whizz Donna off to the Shadow Proclamation (Police Scifi style) to find out What Is Going On?
Meanwhile on Earth, all the Doctor's pals are also wondering What Is Going On? Martha's in Manhattan with Unit, Jack and his Torchwood team are stuck in Cardiff and Sarah Jane and her improbably alien adopted son are in Ealing, while wonderful, brilliant, sassy Rose is strolling about London with a fuck off gun and lots of attitude.
It doesn't take long for them to discover that Earth has been stolen (along with 26 other planets) by der. der. der.... The worst kept secret in this series of Who, the Daleks. Led by none other then Davros, the evil genius who created them.
Now I mentioned here recently that the daleks were the first thing that I remember ever being terrified of on TV, and Davros is just brilliantly scary. So I loved the combination of both, and old and all as I am, that first Exterminate! Exterminate! still sent shivers down my spine. Although I was slightly less then impressed to see Jack's immediate response was to give up (oh god and did he have to kiss Ianto and Gwen - pass me the sick bag, please.), and Sarah Jane's was to respond to wimpy type and burst into tears. I was so impressed with the way they reinvented her when they brought her back, but turns out she's still the same wet she always was.
Luckily, Rose held her own with that gun, and good old Harriet Jones came out of the woodwork to save the day with her improbable subwave machine, which allowed them to get a signal to the Doctor.
This was just as well as after discovering The Shadow Proclamation wanted our hero to lead the charge in a war against the daleks (presumably, his been there done that, lost all me mates credentials were the reason he declined their kind offer), as well as uncovering such imponderables that this series has thrown up (what's happened to all those bees, and aren't there a lot of planets disappearing?), the Doctor and Donna found themselves stuck in the middle of the Medusa Cascade, which is some kind of time rifty thing which I didn't quite understand (but that's ok, cos I don't think you're supposed to understand anything much in a RTD episode, just go with the flow), but which prevented them finding the earth, let alone reaching it (No 1 rated this the scariest part of the episode as she found the idea that the Doctor didn't know what to do pretty appalling.), but luckily Harriet Jones' invention led to that call getting through (even if she got zapped by a dalek as a result).
So suddenly we're on full tilt for the Doc and Donna to get to earth, while Martha managed to escape Manhattan, Torchwood is about to be overtaken and Sarah Jane and Jack simultaneously decide to find the Doctor (rather selfishly leaving their companions to face the music). Meanwhile poor old Rose is the only one NOT to get through on the trunk line, instead of which Davros did, so he and the Doc parried views as ever and you realised just how great he is as an adversary for the Doctor. Oh what fun we had (and hopefully will get to have next week).
And then it was cue the dramatic moment when the Doctor and Rose are finally reunited. C'me on don't tell me that you haven't ALL been hoping for that moment since the end of series 2. I know I have. But.... whilst I am a serial romantic, I also love my romance to be tinged with a bit of pathos, so the bitter sweet way it was left in series 2 was perfect for me and I was CONVINCED that Rose wasn't going to meet him. Or at least not in the same world. And THEN I was convinced when they started running towards each other she'd disappear or something.
And then FUCK ME SIDEWAYS. This bloody dalek appears from the shadows and shoots the Doctor. I mean Talk ABOUT Messing With The Canon. In Dr Who terms this is practically sacrelige isn't it? A DALEK killing the Doctor? NOOOOOO.... but YESSSS, because it was so unexpected, and upped the tragedy, and now we don't know what's going to happen, and oh my god, do I really have to wait till next week to find out???
I was certain last night that he was going to regenerate as the Master, but then today I have read so many conflicting views, I really don't have a clue. Which is much much better.
Because it looks like they've really pulled a rabbit out of a hat and to quote a character from my new book, we should expect the unexpected.
All bets are off now. I haven't a clue how it will end.
And that's just the way it should be...
Please be prepared here for a lot of over excitement and general squeeing. (A new word I learnt recently from visiting other DrWho Fan blogs, and one which fits my general mood to a T).
You have to hand it to RTD, he certainly knows how to take you on a roller coaster.
So first we get the Doctor and Donna arriving on Earth. So far so good. Except. It isn't. Because within seconds of going back inside the Tardis the Earth disapppears, leaving no trace behind. Cue lots of puzzlement from the Doc before he decides to whizz Donna off to the Shadow Proclamation (Police Scifi style) to find out What Is Going On?
Meanwhile on Earth, all the Doctor's pals are also wondering What Is Going On? Martha's in Manhattan with Unit, Jack and his Torchwood team are stuck in Cardiff and Sarah Jane and her improbably alien adopted son are in Ealing, while wonderful, brilliant, sassy Rose is strolling about London with a fuck off gun and lots of attitude.
It doesn't take long for them to discover that Earth has been stolen (along with 26 other planets) by der. der. der.... The worst kept secret in this series of Who, the Daleks. Led by none other then Davros, the evil genius who created them.
Now I mentioned here recently that the daleks were the first thing that I remember ever being terrified of on TV, and Davros is just brilliantly scary. So I loved the combination of both, and old and all as I am, that first Exterminate! Exterminate! still sent shivers down my spine. Although I was slightly less then impressed to see Jack's immediate response was to give up (oh god and did he have to kiss Ianto and Gwen - pass me the sick bag, please.), and Sarah Jane's was to respond to wimpy type and burst into tears. I was so impressed with the way they reinvented her when they brought her back, but turns out she's still the same wet she always was.
Luckily, Rose held her own with that gun, and good old Harriet Jones came out of the woodwork to save the day with her improbable subwave machine, which allowed them to get a signal to the Doctor.
This was just as well as after discovering The Shadow Proclamation wanted our hero to lead the charge in a war against the daleks (presumably, his been there done that, lost all me mates credentials were the reason he declined their kind offer), as well as uncovering such imponderables that this series has thrown up (what's happened to all those bees, and aren't there a lot of planets disappearing?), the Doctor and Donna found themselves stuck in the middle of the Medusa Cascade, which is some kind of time rifty thing which I didn't quite understand (but that's ok, cos I don't think you're supposed to understand anything much in a RTD episode, just go with the flow), but which prevented them finding the earth, let alone reaching it (No 1 rated this the scariest part of the episode as she found the idea that the Doctor didn't know what to do pretty appalling.), but luckily Harriet Jones' invention led to that call getting through (even if she got zapped by a dalek as a result).
So suddenly we're on full tilt for the Doc and Donna to get to earth, while Martha managed to escape Manhattan, Torchwood is about to be overtaken and Sarah Jane and Jack simultaneously decide to find the Doctor (rather selfishly leaving their companions to face the music). Meanwhile poor old Rose is the only one NOT to get through on the trunk line, instead of which Davros did, so he and the Doc parried views as ever and you realised just how great he is as an adversary for the Doctor. Oh what fun we had (and hopefully will get to have next week).
And then it was cue the dramatic moment when the Doctor and Rose are finally reunited. C'me on don't tell me that you haven't ALL been hoping for that moment since the end of series 2. I know I have. But.... whilst I am a serial romantic, I also love my romance to be tinged with a bit of pathos, so the bitter sweet way it was left in series 2 was perfect for me and I was CONVINCED that Rose wasn't going to meet him. Or at least not in the same world. And THEN I was convinced when they started running towards each other she'd disappear or something.
And then FUCK ME SIDEWAYS. This bloody dalek appears from the shadows and shoots the Doctor. I mean Talk ABOUT Messing With The Canon. In Dr Who terms this is practically sacrelige isn't it? A DALEK killing the Doctor? NOOOOOO.... but YESSSS, because it was so unexpected, and upped the tragedy, and now we don't know what's going to happen, and oh my god, do I really have to wait till next week to find out???
I was certain last night that he was going to regenerate as the Master, but then today I have read so many conflicting views, I really don't have a clue. Which is much much better.
Because it looks like they've really pulled a rabbit out of a hat and to quote a character from my new book, we should expect the unexpected.
All bets are off now. I haven't a clue how it will end.
And that's just the way it should be...
Race for Life report
We've just come back from running Race for Life again.
This year, I ran with the big ones, while my friend's mum walked with the little ones. As it turned out no 3 ended up running with SOF and her daughter.
It was hotter then last year, and bleeding disorganised, so we didn't set off till 11.34, but...
Am very pleased to report that no 1 for the first time didn't need me to motivate her. She got round with the help of her ipod and lashings of determination. In fact she left us at the halfway point and stormed in two minutes ahead of me and no 2. Go no 1 as all my girls would say.
No 2 having been really enthusiastic last year, flaked out a bit in the heat, but she ran all but the last kilometre, and had to be bullied to the finish line. I did manage to get her to run the last bit though....
No 3 walked/jogged all of it and no 4 walked the lot.
They all did fantastically well and I am dead proud of them.
Roll of honour goes:
No 1 41 mins
Me and No 2 43 mins
No3, SOF and daughter 55 mins
No4 and friend's mum, 1hr 10 mins
Way to go girls!!!!
This year, I ran with the big ones, while my friend's mum walked with the little ones. As it turned out no 3 ended up running with SOF and her daughter.
It was hotter then last year, and bleeding disorganised, so we didn't set off till 11.34, but...
Am very pleased to report that no 1 for the first time didn't need me to motivate her. She got round with the help of her ipod and lashings of determination. In fact she left us at the halfway point and stormed in two minutes ahead of me and no 2. Go no 1 as all my girls would say.
No 2 having been really enthusiastic last year, flaked out a bit in the heat, but she ran all but the last kilometre, and had to be bullied to the finish line. I did manage to get her to run the last bit though....
No 3 walked/jogged all of it and no 4 walked the lot.
They all did fantastically well and I am dead proud of them.
Roll of honour goes:
No 1 41 mins
Me and No 2 43 mins
No3, SOF and daughter 55 mins
No4 and friend's mum, 1hr 10 mins
Way to go girls!!!!
Saturday, June 28, 2008
All. Partied. Out.
Although my meticulous family planning has ensured that my children were born two years apart, it wasn't quite meticulous enough to ensure that the birthdays were evenly spaced throughout the year. So nos 1-3 have their birthdays within six weeks of each other (all I can say is I must have been having a lot of fun in August when I was in my thirties, but I can't quite for the life of me remember any of it now...)
So since May I have hosted a party for 12 year olds (barbecue, several 12 year olds sitting around pretending to be grown up while the others ran around like lunatics in the garden, fairly easy); one for ten year olds (party food, karoake, and much pet stroking. Apart from one drama queen child, also fairly easy); and yesterday we had the eight year olds.
Now no 3 in general is a fairly well behaved and biddable child. She has invited the same group of friends since reception, and they have also always been fairly well behaved and biddable.
Lulled into a false sense of security by the generally good behaviour at the 10/12 year old events, I forgot that 8 year olds probably need a bit more structure. Ok, actually, the real truth is I was all partied out, and far too complacent about Having Done This Before (ad nauseam, I might add).
First mistake I made was not to have organised games when they arrived. I suggested to no 3 they do some dancing in the lounge, and no 1 put Amy Winehouse on very loudly (it is a truth unviersally acknowledged that music at children's parties gets less and less appropriate for the younger ones as their older siblings grow up). By now mil had arrived, and was sitting in state in a straight backed chair we have for her as its more comfortable. I made her a cup of tea and realised, that while there was music playing very loudly, children were there none. They'd all gone mental and run in the garden.
Fair enough, I thought, then realised half of them didn't have their shoes on. Given that foxes are a bloody nuisance round here (bring back hunting, say I), my offspring are unfortunately banned from going shoeless in the garden. I instructed no 3 to tell them to put their shoes on. She came back wailing that no one would listen. I then went down and told them all to get their shoes on. After much moaning most of them complied bar two. One is the daughter of my RforL running buddie from last year, the other is the daughter of my Super Organised Friend who regularly saves my life. SOF's daughter thinks she's at home in my house, which is rather flattering, until you realise that this manifests itself into very lippy behaviour. So we had to have Words on the subject of her shoes and she and RforL friend's daughter ended up sulking on the swing seat.
No 4 (who does a fine line in telling tales) then came to inform me that three kids were on the trampoline, which is two more then there should be. I went to tell them off, and witnessed one child suddenly collapsing on the floor clutching her leg, which is precisely the reason I NEVER wanted a sodding trampoline in the first place. Said child then limped for the next HOUR, and complained that she couldn't straighten her leg. Why couldn't one of mine have injured themselves?? (Terrible the way as a parent you'd ALWAYS rather have your own child injured on your watch then someone else's...)
No 3 by now was getting grumpy that none of her friends wanted to play games, so I suggested we did the Treasure Hunt which I had scrabbled together about five minutes before all the guests arrived. I've done Treasure Hunt's before, but I have to confess this wasn't my finest hour and the clues were, well , rather crap. So the children had found the treasure in next to no time. The treasure was in the form of little boxes of smarties and prompted two children to inform me they couldn't under any circumstances have chocolate, one child that she was banned animal fat plus I knew a fourth was diabetic, so I had to watch her sugar intake. I'm sure things were simpler for my mother...
By now Pizzas had arrived, so all the children sat down to eat, and I tried to ensure that no one was too greedy, no one had too much coke (and in the case of the diabetic that she ONLY had diet coke), while checking surreptitiously on the injury and hoping against hope that it wasn't serious.
As soon as food was done and dealt with I suggested they sang karaoke, which only met with approval from half of the guests who piled down the garden again to play in the fort Spouse lovingly built the children a few years back.
At this point no 3 who is absolutely knackered (see previous post) totally lost the plot as she wanted them all to play games. I cunningly got her wayward friends back inside by dint of producing the birthday cake, but then remembered once I'd got them all to sing Happy Birthday that no 4 and one of her friends were playing upstairs. As she'd had a paddy on a previous occasion that we'd sung Happy Birthday without her, I stopped no 3 from blowing out her candles, and got her to do it again. Cue no 3 bursting into tears again, as I'd accidentally given her relighting candles so they popped back into life again anyway. One of her friends then helpfully offered to blow them out again, which caused a veritable flood. By now no 4 had come down, we sang Happy Birthday again, but no 3 refused to blow the candles out and no 4 then burst into tears because she'd missed it all, and I chucked all the flaming candles into a bowl fo water.
I hastily persuaded no 1 to organise a game of Dead Lions (only now of course you have to call it Sleepy Lions) - through which no 3 sobbed uncontrollably. This was followed by Tongue Murder (same as Murder in the Dark, but the murderer sticks out his/her tongue at people, and then they die). Most of no 3's friends hadn't played it before, so it took a while to get the instructions sorted - in fact in the first game half the victims thought they'd been murdered when they hadn't, but hey, it kept them quiet for ten minutes, so I wasn't complaining.
I took this opportunity to retreat into the kitchen and cut and wrap cake, willing it to be 6.30 so the party would be over. I can honestly say the last quarter of an hour was one of the longest of my life.
To my relief, no one was late for pick up, the three children I took home were all despatched without a murmur, limping child miraculously recovered well enough to walk through her front door, and I sat down to a large glass of wine safe in the knowledge that I don't have to do that again till next February...
So since May I have hosted a party for 12 year olds (barbecue, several 12 year olds sitting around pretending to be grown up while the others ran around like lunatics in the garden, fairly easy); one for ten year olds (party food, karoake, and much pet stroking. Apart from one drama queen child, also fairly easy); and yesterday we had the eight year olds.
Now no 3 in general is a fairly well behaved and biddable child. She has invited the same group of friends since reception, and they have also always been fairly well behaved and biddable.
Lulled into a false sense of security by the generally good behaviour at the 10/12 year old events, I forgot that 8 year olds probably need a bit more structure. Ok, actually, the real truth is I was all partied out, and far too complacent about Having Done This Before (ad nauseam, I might add).
First mistake I made was not to have organised games when they arrived. I suggested to no 3 they do some dancing in the lounge, and no 1 put Amy Winehouse on very loudly (it is a truth unviersally acknowledged that music at children's parties gets less and less appropriate for the younger ones as their older siblings grow up). By now mil had arrived, and was sitting in state in a straight backed chair we have for her as its more comfortable. I made her a cup of tea and realised, that while there was music playing very loudly, children were there none. They'd all gone mental and run in the garden.
Fair enough, I thought, then realised half of them didn't have their shoes on. Given that foxes are a bloody nuisance round here (bring back hunting, say I), my offspring are unfortunately banned from going shoeless in the garden. I instructed no 3 to tell them to put their shoes on. She came back wailing that no one would listen. I then went down and told them all to get their shoes on. After much moaning most of them complied bar two. One is the daughter of my RforL running buddie from last year, the other is the daughter of my Super Organised Friend who regularly saves my life. SOF's daughter thinks she's at home in my house, which is rather flattering, until you realise that this manifests itself into very lippy behaviour. So we had to have Words on the subject of her shoes and she and RforL friend's daughter ended up sulking on the swing seat.
No 4 (who does a fine line in telling tales) then came to inform me that three kids were on the trampoline, which is two more then there should be. I went to tell them off, and witnessed one child suddenly collapsing on the floor clutching her leg, which is precisely the reason I NEVER wanted a sodding trampoline in the first place. Said child then limped for the next HOUR, and complained that she couldn't straighten her leg. Why couldn't one of mine have injured themselves?? (Terrible the way as a parent you'd ALWAYS rather have your own child injured on your watch then someone else's...)
No 3 by now was getting grumpy that none of her friends wanted to play games, so I suggested we did the Treasure Hunt which I had scrabbled together about five minutes before all the guests arrived. I've done Treasure Hunt's before, but I have to confess this wasn't my finest hour and the clues were, well , rather crap. So the children had found the treasure in next to no time. The treasure was in the form of little boxes of smarties and prompted two children to inform me they couldn't under any circumstances have chocolate, one child that she was banned animal fat plus I knew a fourth was diabetic, so I had to watch her sugar intake. I'm sure things were simpler for my mother...
By now Pizzas had arrived, so all the children sat down to eat, and I tried to ensure that no one was too greedy, no one had too much coke (and in the case of the diabetic that she ONLY had diet coke), while checking surreptitiously on the injury and hoping against hope that it wasn't serious.
As soon as food was done and dealt with I suggested they sang karaoke, which only met with approval from half of the guests who piled down the garden again to play in the fort Spouse lovingly built the children a few years back.
At this point no 3 who is absolutely knackered (see previous post) totally lost the plot as she wanted them all to play games. I cunningly got her wayward friends back inside by dint of producing the birthday cake, but then remembered once I'd got them all to sing Happy Birthday that no 4 and one of her friends were playing upstairs. As she'd had a paddy on a previous occasion that we'd sung Happy Birthday without her, I stopped no 3 from blowing out her candles, and got her to do it again. Cue no 3 bursting into tears again, as I'd accidentally given her relighting candles so they popped back into life again anyway. One of her friends then helpfully offered to blow them out again, which caused a veritable flood. By now no 4 had come down, we sang Happy Birthday again, but no 3 refused to blow the candles out and no 4 then burst into tears because she'd missed it all, and I chucked all the flaming candles into a bowl fo water.
I hastily persuaded no 1 to organise a game of Dead Lions (only now of course you have to call it Sleepy Lions) - through which no 3 sobbed uncontrollably. This was followed by Tongue Murder (same as Murder in the Dark, but the murderer sticks out his/her tongue at people, and then they die). Most of no 3's friends hadn't played it before, so it took a while to get the instructions sorted - in fact in the first game half the victims thought they'd been murdered when they hadn't, but hey, it kept them quiet for ten minutes, so I wasn't complaining.
I took this opportunity to retreat into the kitchen and cut and wrap cake, willing it to be 6.30 so the party would be over. I can honestly say the last quarter of an hour was one of the longest of my life.
To my relief, no one was late for pick up, the three children I took home were all despatched without a murmur, limping child miraculously recovered well enough to walk through her front door, and I sat down to a large glass of wine safe in the knowledge that I don't have to do that again till next February...
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
You know it's nearly the end of term when...
... You need an explosion to get everyone out of bed.
... Your six year old reverts to baby mode and needs help getting dressed.
... Your nearly eight year old suddenly wimps out on you and announces she needs a day off school
... and your ten year old loses her shoe (just one) five minutes before it's time to leave for school, at the same time as the six year old demands you find clips to put in her hair (what has happened to the ones you were wearing yesterday? You might well ask, but you'd be asking in vain...)
... you realise when you DO get to school you are nearly last in the playground for the second day running (and only the second time all year).
Roll on the holidays....
... Your six year old reverts to baby mode and needs help getting dressed.
... Your nearly eight year old suddenly wimps out on you and announces she needs a day off school
... and your ten year old loses her shoe (just one) five minutes before it's time to leave for school, at the same time as the six year old demands you find clips to put in her hair (what has happened to the ones you were wearing yesterday? You might well ask, but you'd be asking in vain...)
... you realise when you DO get to school you are nearly last in the playground for the second day running (and only the second time all year).
Roll on the holidays....
Monday, June 23, 2008
Dr Who: Turn Left
I loved this episode so much I watched it twice...
This was Russell T Davies at his sheer brilliant best. I love parallel universe/time slip/what if? kind of stories, and one of my favourite things about New Dr Who is the way they've played around with Timey Wimey stuff.
The idea that simply by turning right instead of left Donna not only changed the course of her own life, but that of the world's because she never got to meet the Doctor, so wasn't there to save him from drowning when he defeated the Racnos was fabulous. I also liked the way all the companions and people associated with the Doc kept popping off while trying to sort out all the problems that he would have solved in the alternate reality.
I also really liked the parallel with story from series one when Rose tried to save her dad and couldn't. This time around she was unable to save Donna, who's only means of reverting the fateful decision she made was to throw herself under a truck, thereby causing a traffic jam and making her other self turn left as she was supposed to.
Rose herself was something of a revelation. Maybe it's the fact we've got used to her not being around, but boy had I forgotten how good Billie Piper was. She really is an almost impossible act to follow (though against my initial reservations I think Catherine Tate has been pretty good this series, particularly when they stop her shouting) I know there's been some mocking about her speech impediment, but that aside I loved new tough Rose, and the look of pain in her face when she realised she'd come too late to save the Doctor/and Donna asked if they had had a thing going on was a reminder of the power and pathos she brought to the role. The kids are all clamouring for her to come back now, and I can't say I disagree. Shame Billie Piper is so sodding talented she presumably has lots more fish to fry. But hey if she pitches up occasionally from her parallel universe I don't care.
Am absolutely dying to see how it all pans out next and hope that the series finale doesn't end up feeling as much of an anti climax as last year, but retains the power of The Parting of the Ways (my favourite episode from Series One) and Doomsday (which made no 3 cry for weeks afterwards).
Also wondering what the Darkness is and whether I'm right that the ghosts that the Torchwood team see are in fact coming through the Rift from parallel universes (which was how I thought Rose was coming back). My guess is that she will keep appearing and disappearing but that she and the Doctor will never meet properly - or meet and not be able to touch or some such poignant thing. My money is also now on Donna making some big sacrifice to save the Doctor as she knows how important it is to keep him alive, and that Rose already knows this....
And if I've got that all wrong I don't really care anyway because that means RTD has pulled an unexpected rabbit out of the bag, which is much more fun.
Last year I ended up reading far too many spoilers, so I really really don't want to find out what happens next, if only to replicate that moment on Saturday when Donna repeated the words, BAD WOLF.
I so didn't see that coming.
This was Russell T Davies at his sheer brilliant best. I love parallel universe/time slip/what if? kind of stories, and one of my favourite things about New Dr Who is the way they've played around with Timey Wimey stuff.
The idea that simply by turning right instead of left Donna not only changed the course of her own life, but that of the world's because she never got to meet the Doctor, so wasn't there to save him from drowning when he defeated the Racnos was fabulous. I also liked the way all the companions and people associated with the Doc kept popping off while trying to sort out all the problems that he would have solved in the alternate reality.
I also really liked the parallel with story from series one when Rose tried to save her dad and couldn't. This time around she was unable to save Donna, who's only means of reverting the fateful decision she made was to throw herself under a truck, thereby causing a traffic jam and making her other self turn left as she was supposed to.
Rose herself was something of a revelation. Maybe it's the fact we've got used to her not being around, but boy had I forgotten how good Billie Piper was. She really is an almost impossible act to follow (though against my initial reservations I think Catherine Tate has been pretty good this series, particularly when they stop her shouting) I know there's been some mocking about her speech impediment, but that aside I loved new tough Rose, and the look of pain in her face when she realised she'd come too late to save the Doctor/and Donna asked if they had had a thing going on was a reminder of the power and pathos she brought to the role. The kids are all clamouring for her to come back now, and I can't say I disagree. Shame Billie Piper is so sodding talented she presumably has lots more fish to fry. But hey if she pitches up occasionally from her parallel universe I don't care.
Am absolutely dying to see how it all pans out next and hope that the series finale doesn't end up feeling as much of an anti climax as last year, but retains the power of The Parting of the Ways (my favourite episode from Series One) and Doomsday (which made no 3 cry for weeks afterwards).
Also wondering what the Darkness is and whether I'm right that the ghosts that the Torchwood team see are in fact coming through the Rift from parallel universes (which was how I thought Rose was coming back). My guess is that she will keep appearing and disappearing but that she and the Doctor will never meet properly - or meet and not be able to touch or some such poignant thing. My money is also now on Donna making some big sacrifice to save the Doctor as she knows how important it is to keep him alive, and that Rose already knows this....
And if I've got that all wrong I don't really care anyway because that means RTD has pulled an unexpected rabbit out of the bag, which is much more fun.
Last year I ended up reading far too many spoilers, so I really really don't want to find out what happens next, if only to replicate that moment on Saturday when Donna repeated the words, BAD WOLF.
I so didn't see that coming.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
The Time of Singing
Elizabeth Chadwick is a writing friend who like me uses rock music to inspire her writing. In her case, it inspires some rather fine writing set in the mediaeval period. I have yet to read a book of hers I haven't enjoyed, and I long to emulate her ability to write bitter/sweet tragedy. She writes fabulous heroes and wonderful love scenes - the most tender and senuous lovemaking I have ever read takes place in Shadows and Strongholds, William Marshall, hero of The Greatest Knight and the Scarlet Lion is incredibly inspiring, and Elizabeth's grail mystery book, The Daughters of the Grail (written long before The Da Vinci Code and heaps better then Labrynthe) is one reason I am excited about going on holiday to the South of France this year. We're planning to visit Mont Segur and Carcassone, home of the Cathars who were ethnically cleansed by the Catholic Church in the 13th century. Spouse has long been interested in their story, but Daughters of the Grail really pulled me in.
Elizabeth's latest book, The Time of Singing isn't coming till October, but she's just posted this rather brilliant teaser ad on You Tube, which has ensured that The Time of Singing is top of my Christmas wish list (Spouse thoughtfully provided an Elizabeth Chadwick box set last year). I'm fairly sure that the castle in the pics is Framlingham - whose history I know from a later period as the home of the Howards, the slippery Catholic Dukes of Norfolk, some of whom escaped Tudor wrath, but one or two of whom lost their heads. Elizabeth's story is set in a much earlier period, as it is the story of Hugh Bigod, First Earl of Norfolk - about whom I know very little apart from things Elizabeth's mentioned - so I am looking immensely to finding out. Elizabeth's books are now so highly regarded that at least two Phd students are studying them, which I think is the epitome of cool for a writer.
And if you read her books it's not hard to understand why...
Elizabeth's latest book, The Time of Singing isn't coming till October, but she's just posted this rather brilliant teaser ad on You Tube, which has ensured that The Time of Singing is top of my Christmas wish list (Spouse thoughtfully provided an Elizabeth Chadwick box set last year). I'm fairly sure that the castle in the pics is Framlingham - whose history I know from a later period as the home of the Howards, the slippery Catholic Dukes of Norfolk, some of whom escaped Tudor wrath, but one or two of whom lost their heads. Elizabeth's story is set in a much earlier period, as it is the story of Hugh Bigod, First Earl of Norfolk - about whom I know very little apart from things Elizabeth's mentioned - so I am looking immensely to finding out. Elizabeth's books are now so highly regarded that at least two Phd students are studying them, which I think is the epitome of cool for a writer.
And if you read her books it's not hard to understand why...
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
It's summertime and the livin' is easy...
Actually it's not if you're a mum of four. I thought I hated the run up to Christmas more then the endofyearitis which is currently afflicting me, but at this precise moment I think the summer term is much much worse.
Basically work has already stopped. No one is studying very hard. The kids are all knackered. And every week there seem to be a plethora of events I have to attend.
Some of it's my fault. Last week I mistakenly offered to help on a school trip to Wisley. I have offered my services three times this year and every time there have been enough mums so I've not been needed. Trust me to draw the short straw and get the six year olds. Never. Ever. Go on a school trip with six year olds. They're not nearly as malleable as reception children and haven't learnt to behave as well as Year 2 children. Consequently the majority of the day was spent running after/shouting at small children as they legged it in different directions all round Wisley which has vast and beautiful gardens which are like a red rag to a bull to small people let off the leash.
This week I have a school open day on Thursday, next week it's Sports Day for no 4 on Monday, plus the same DAY as Race for Life no 1 has to rehearse all afternoon for Under Milk Wood and nos 2&3 have a picnic at their school. I've been asked to do face painting, but am probably going to decline. Much to her annoyance we've already missed no 4's Summer Event (when no 1 started school there was an unwritten code that the junior school put on a summer event and the infant school put on a Christmas event, now they both ... do both. Which is fun.), as it coincided with her granny's birthday and no 1&2 taking part in a cooking competition for Guides.
I am beginning to hate Guides and Brownies with a passion. Apart from my natural antipathy to women in uniform, I find the amount of paperwork both activities seem to generate, and the demands that are put upon me in order for the sprogs to take part are tedious in the extreme.
I spent most of yesterday morning fruitlessly trying to buy kit for nos1&2 to go to Camp at the weekend. You'd think they were going away for a week the amount of gear they have to bring. All clothing has to be blue, but no jeans as they are difficult to dry. Do you know how difficult it is to BUY blue trousers that don't look like they should be worn by someone who normally wears their trousers halfway down their bum? Nearly impossible in my town I'd say.
I also have to provide two groundsheets, two mats, nappy pins (you ask me), kit for them to wear if they get wet, different kit (presumably not blue) for them to wear for the disco on Saturday evening... The list is endless and I can't fulfil most of it. Plus I don't really have time to try. Argos didn't have groundsheets, nor did Millets. I couldn't find any mats, so ended up with two apparently selfinflating airbeds. Except when I got home they didn't. Inflate I mean. I also managed to rip the bag putting the sodding thing back together, but luckily when I snuck it back into Argos today they didn't notice. I tried to go for camping mats again, to discover there was only one in stock. Someone is trying to tell me something.
I was frustrated ENOUGH about all this last night, I can tell you, and then I took no 3 and her friend to Brownies. Last week I remembered at the last minute that there was a big Brownie and Guides barbecue on 4 July, was about to take the form with me, but had no money to pay for it. Never mind, I thought, I'll do it next week. Wrong. I presented the form and the wretched £3 to be told I was too late, the forms had gone off and there was no way they could fit one extra child in. No 1 has been to this great event for the last two years and the WHOLE of the district goes. I have to fess up here and say I was a tad stroppy, and have probably been struck off from Brown Owl's Christmas Card list now (slightly better then the response I got from no 4's intimidated - by me, apparently - ballet teacher last year who practically accused me of verbal assault, but that's another story), but what the hell. I DO appreciate all these people give up their time etc etc, but I wish THEY'D appreciate that I have a little bit more to occupy my brain then what is going on at Brownies in any given week...
The upshot of it is that no 3 can't go, while nos 1&2 can (as I had £6 on Thursday when they went to Guides). As that night also coincides with their end of year Drama performance I think I decided this morning I'd vote with my feet and send them to that instead, except now No1 wants to go to the barbecue and no 2 wants to go to the performance. Never a dull moment in my house I can tell you.
To make my life even more complicated then it already is, we (that is nos1,2 and I) have just joined a fledgling Ladies Cricket Team, which takes place AFTER Brownies has finished and no 1 has had her swimming lesson, which makes Tuesday evenings a bit tight. But what the hell it is enormous fun, and after the day I had yesterday it was great to vent my frustration with a cricket bat. I have only ever played cricket in the back garden with my brothers (one of whom is a pretty talented cricketer), but to my surprise last week I discovered I was reasonably ok at bowling and batting. I even got a wicket. Last night I got three (including no2 - oh dear. I don't think one should really bowl out one's daughter). The best thing about it though is, sharing an activity with the sprogs, and watching no 1 get engaged with sport in a way I have never seen before (one year at secondary school and she's already gone off it. I despair.)
However, yesterday being a bad day, I also managed to pull one of my quad muscles, so now I am limping about and hoping that it will be better by next week so I can still do Race for Life. Mind you... if I'm not, I suppose that's ONE less thing to do in June...
Basically work has already stopped. No one is studying very hard. The kids are all knackered. And every week there seem to be a plethora of events I have to attend.
Some of it's my fault. Last week I mistakenly offered to help on a school trip to Wisley. I have offered my services three times this year and every time there have been enough mums so I've not been needed. Trust me to draw the short straw and get the six year olds. Never. Ever. Go on a school trip with six year olds. They're not nearly as malleable as reception children and haven't learnt to behave as well as Year 2 children. Consequently the majority of the day was spent running after/shouting at small children as they legged it in different directions all round Wisley which has vast and beautiful gardens which are like a red rag to a bull to small people let off the leash.
This week I have a school open day on Thursday, next week it's Sports Day for no 4 on Monday, plus the same DAY as Race for Life no 1 has to rehearse all afternoon for Under Milk Wood and nos 2&3 have a picnic at their school. I've been asked to do face painting, but am probably going to decline. Much to her annoyance we've already missed no 4's Summer Event (when no 1 started school there was an unwritten code that the junior school put on a summer event and the infant school put on a Christmas event, now they both ... do both. Which is fun.), as it coincided with her granny's birthday and no 1&2 taking part in a cooking competition for Guides.
I am beginning to hate Guides and Brownies with a passion. Apart from my natural antipathy to women in uniform, I find the amount of paperwork both activities seem to generate, and the demands that are put upon me in order for the sprogs to take part are tedious in the extreme.
I spent most of yesterday morning fruitlessly trying to buy kit for nos1&2 to go to Camp at the weekend. You'd think they were going away for a week the amount of gear they have to bring. All clothing has to be blue, but no jeans as they are difficult to dry. Do you know how difficult it is to BUY blue trousers that don't look like they should be worn by someone who normally wears their trousers halfway down their bum? Nearly impossible in my town I'd say.
I also have to provide two groundsheets, two mats, nappy pins (you ask me), kit for them to wear if they get wet, different kit (presumably not blue) for them to wear for the disco on Saturday evening... The list is endless and I can't fulfil most of it. Plus I don't really have time to try. Argos didn't have groundsheets, nor did Millets. I couldn't find any mats, so ended up with two apparently selfinflating airbeds. Except when I got home they didn't. Inflate I mean. I also managed to rip the bag putting the sodding thing back together, but luckily when I snuck it back into Argos today they didn't notice. I tried to go for camping mats again, to discover there was only one in stock. Someone is trying to tell me something.
I was frustrated ENOUGH about all this last night, I can tell you, and then I took no 3 and her friend to Brownies. Last week I remembered at the last minute that there was a big Brownie and Guides barbecue on 4 July, was about to take the form with me, but had no money to pay for it. Never mind, I thought, I'll do it next week. Wrong. I presented the form and the wretched £3 to be told I was too late, the forms had gone off and there was no way they could fit one extra child in. No 1 has been to this great event for the last two years and the WHOLE of the district goes. I have to fess up here and say I was a tad stroppy, and have probably been struck off from Brown Owl's Christmas Card list now (slightly better then the response I got from no 4's intimidated - by me, apparently - ballet teacher last year who practically accused me of verbal assault, but that's another story), but what the hell. I DO appreciate all these people give up their time etc etc, but I wish THEY'D appreciate that I have a little bit more to occupy my brain then what is going on at Brownies in any given week...
The upshot of it is that no 3 can't go, while nos 1&2 can (as I had £6 on Thursday when they went to Guides). As that night also coincides with their end of year Drama performance I think I decided this morning I'd vote with my feet and send them to that instead, except now No1 wants to go to the barbecue and no 2 wants to go to the performance. Never a dull moment in my house I can tell you.
To make my life even more complicated then it already is, we (that is nos1,2 and I) have just joined a fledgling Ladies Cricket Team, which takes place AFTER Brownies has finished and no 1 has had her swimming lesson, which makes Tuesday evenings a bit tight. But what the hell it is enormous fun, and after the day I had yesterday it was great to vent my frustration with a cricket bat. I have only ever played cricket in the back garden with my brothers (one of whom is a pretty talented cricketer), but to my surprise last week I discovered I was reasonably ok at bowling and batting. I even got a wicket. Last night I got three (including no2 - oh dear. I don't think one should really bowl out one's daughter). The best thing about it though is, sharing an activity with the sprogs, and watching no 1 get engaged with sport in a way I have never seen before (one year at secondary school and she's already gone off it. I despair.)
However, yesterday being a bad day, I also managed to pull one of my quad muscles, so now I am limping about and hoping that it will be better by next week so I can still do Race for Life. Mind you... if I'm not, I suppose that's ONE less thing to do in June...
Monday, June 16, 2008
Race for Life
It's now two weeks till the girls and I do the next Race for Life. Life being what it is, though I am managing to run in the week, I've only done one run with the girls, so I fear rather more walking then running will be involved, but hey ho.
I don't want to do a hard sell on this, but... it is for charidee. And Cancer Research is an incredibly worthwhile one. I doubt that any of us have been untouched at some time or another by this dreadful disease, and the more that can be done to find a cure the better.
There are two people I think about when I do RforL, both of whom died far too young. Maybe if we can keep raising money, the people who follow on will have a better chance of survival then they did.
So... if you can spare a few pennies, the girls and I will be incredibly grateful. And if not, think of us on 29 June, and pray it isn't too hot. The first year I did it with no1 it was boiling, the event organisers ran out of water, and my friend and I were nearly demented by the end as our daughters griped the whole way round...
http://www.raceforlifesponsorme.org/julesandgang
I don't want to do a hard sell on this, but... it is for charidee. And Cancer Research is an incredibly worthwhile one. I doubt that any of us have been untouched at some time or another by this dreadful disease, and the more that can be done to find a cure the better.
There are two people I think about when I do RforL, both of whom died far too young. Maybe if we can keep raising money, the people who follow on will have a better chance of survival then they did.
So... if you can spare a few pennies, the girls and I will be incredibly grateful. And if not, think of us on 29 June, and pray it isn't too hot. The first year I did it with no1 it was boiling, the event organisers ran out of water, and my friend and I were nearly demented by the end as our daughters griped the whole way round...
http://www.raceforlifesponsorme.org/julesandgang
Monday, June 09, 2008
Age Banding and Children's books
A subject that is much discussed in children's editorial departments is how to get the right books to the right children at the right time. When I was at Scholastic we discussed it endlessly. Children don't learn to read in a linear fashion. You cannot say at the age of 7 all children should be reading Enid Blyton say, because child a might not have progressed beyond picture books yet, and child b might have already found Roald Dahl. (That's true of all sorts of other things - no 1 was slow to learn physical skills but she's caught up in the end).
The general consensus has always therefore been that age ranging children's books is a bad idea, because older kids who are struggling to read will be put off reading books they perceive as being for younger readers. As these are generally the readers who need the most help in finding suitable books in the first place, this can only be a bad thing.
This could be all about to change as there is a move afoot to age range children's books. With my commercial hat on I can understand the thinking behind this move. With the growth of supermarkets as an outlet for books, new markets are opening up, and books are being bought by non traditional bookbuyers. There is a shocking statistic that less then 10% of the population actually go into/use traditional bookshops. Many feel intimidated by them, and the supermarkets have allowed them access to books in a way that was previously lacking. This in my view is a very good thing (and as one who's made most of my sales on Pastures New via the supermarkets I'm not complaining).
One of the downsides of the new markets is that alot of the punters come in not having a clue what is a suitable book for little Johnny aged 6 or little Jane aged 10. In a normal bookshop, the books are shelved according to age/suitablity, and there will usually (certainly in decent bookshops) be someone knowledgeable on hand to give you helpful advice. But if you aren't a regular bookbuyer, and buy your books in Asda, that particular option is closed to you. Age ranging books is the solution the industry has provided for the reality of the new world we are living in.
Undoubtedly this WILL give grannies and aunties and uncles who haven't a clue a much much better idea of what to buy little Johnny and little Jane and may well pull in more sales,
But...
And this is a big big but, it is going to do nothing at all to encourage kids to read. We are currently in the National Year of Reading. A laudable enterprise to get more kids reading. I don't think it, or age banding books is going to make one iota of difference to getting kids reading books. In fact I think the age banding is going to be positively detrimental.
As well as angsting about age ranging on books, children's editorial teams are always searching for the Holy Grail, namely books that boys will buy.
I am a mum of four girls, all of whom luckily are good readers. But I know plenty of friends with boys who don't/can't read. They are poorly poorly served by my industry. Partly it's the lack of men in it - publishing doesn't pay very well. Children's publishing pays even less. If you are an ambitious male you aren't going to hang around long. There aren't that many men in publishing in the first place, let alone on the children's side. I think this doesn't help in the search for books that boys will enjoy.
From what I have observed in the last eight years since my oldest daughter started school, the educational system doesn't help either. There are far too few male teachers in primary schools, and however well meaning and dedicated the female ones are, from what I have seen they fail to understand often that boys don't want to sit around reading a book, when they could be out climbing trees, kicking a football etc. So very often it is boys who are failing to progress through the education system and who fall badly behind with their reading. And what does my industry have to offer them? Not a great deal. I have a good friend whose son struggled through the primary school system. He's a bright lad but not hugely good at academic stuff - when he was eight or nine years old, he was still coming home with books about Floppy the Bunny. Kill Floppy the Bunny, became his mother's motif for a while.
Boys like him, are not going to be enticed to read a book which is their reading level, but has a big number on it proclaiming it to be suitable for a child two years younger then they are.
I still edit children's books for an educational company, and am currently working on a series for reluctant readers. It's edgy, contemporary, and I hope will give weaker readers something to get their teeth into , which is actually relevant to them. I would absolutely hate to see them age ranged as I think it would be patronising beyond belief to kids who need to be encouraged not discouraged.
During my time at Scholastic I was privileged to run the Point Horror list, which at the time was the top selling list for teenagers, although it was read by kids as young as 8/9 and as old as 14 - hence my point about the wide ranging nature of children's reading abilities. We sold over 7 million copies of Point Horror in my time at Scholastic across 50 or so titles. I regularly got letters which began, I never liked reading till I found Point Horror. For a while there, I genuinely felt we were making a difference. But, I quickly discovered when I went into schools, there were kids for whom even a Point Horror was too difficult. I always wanted to edit them down and present a version that a reluctant reader could have picked up with pride, but it was hard to know how to present it without them feeling they were being patronised. Plus, the feedback I always got from our sales department was that the reluctant reader market was too small and not worth the candle.
I firmly believe it is worth the candle. There are kids out there who are leaving school at eleven unable to read. They come out of the school system at 16 already disenfranchised and disadavantaged. To break that cycle we need desperately to get them while they are young, and provide them with reading material which is relevant and fun. I don't think they should all be reading Dostoevsky (we don't after all expect all our children to be David Beckham), but they do need to be literate to cope with the real world.
And that's why I'm against age ranging. While it may help parents find suitable books, their children will reject them if they perceive they are being given a book too young for them. Instead, I suggest, this age ranging experiement is linked simply to supermarkets, and doesn't become generic. Or, the supermarkets themselves need to work a bit harder at employing people on the shopfloor who actually understand books, and can offer proper advice, so that the right books do get to the right children.
This issue is being hotly debated right now by a number of writers, librarians, teachers at al, and they've launched a protest/petition which you can find out about here. I urge you to do so, because, though I can see the reasons why age ranging is being suggested, in my view it's going to do more harm ultimately then good. Which would be a great pity.
http://www.notoagebanding.org,
The general consensus has always therefore been that age ranging children's books is a bad idea, because older kids who are struggling to read will be put off reading books they perceive as being for younger readers. As these are generally the readers who need the most help in finding suitable books in the first place, this can only be a bad thing.
This could be all about to change as there is a move afoot to age range children's books. With my commercial hat on I can understand the thinking behind this move. With the growth of supermarkets as an outlet for books, new markets are opening up, and books are being bought by non traditional bookbuyers. There is a shocking statistic that less then 10% of the population actually go into/use traditional bookshops. Many feel intimidated by them, and the supermarkets have allowed them access to books in a way that was previously lacking. This in my view is a very good thing (and as one who's made most of my sales on Pastures New via the supermarkets I'm not complaining).
One of the downsides of the new markets is that alot of the punters come in not having a clue what is a suitable book for little Johnny aged 6 or little Jane aged 10. In a normal bookshop, the books are shelved according to age/suitablity, and there will usually (certainly in decent bookshops) be someone knowledgeable on hand to give you helpful advice. But if you aren't a regular bookbuyer, and buy your books in Asda, that particular option is closed to you. Age ranging books is the solution the industry has provided for the reality of the new world we are living in.
Undoubtedly this WILL give grannies and aunties and uncles who haven't a clue a much much better idea of what to buy little Johnny and little Jane and may well pull in more sales,
But...
And this is a big big but, it is going to do nothing at all to encourage kids to read. We are currently in the National Year of Reading. A laudable enterprise to get more kids reading. I don't think it, or age banding books is going to make one iota of difference to getting kids reading books. In fact I think the age banding is going to be positively detrimental.
As well as angsting about age ranging on books, children's editorial teams are always searching for the Holy Grail, namely books that boys will buy.
I am a mum of four girls, all of whom luckily are good readers. But I know plenty of friends with boys who don't/can't read. They are poorly poorly served by my industry. Partly it's the lack of men in it - publishing doesn't pay very well. Children's publishing pays even less. If you are an ambitious male you aren't going to hang around long. There aren't that many men in publishing in the first place, let alone on the children's side. I think this doesn't help in the search for books that boys will enjoy.
From what I have observed in the last eight years since my oldest daughter started school, the educational system doesn't help either. There are far too few male teachers in primary schools, and however well meaning and dedicated the female ones are, from what I have seen they fail to understand often that boys don't want to sit around reading a book, when they could be out climbing trees, kicking a football etc. So very often it is boys who are failing to progress through the education system and who fall badly behind with their reading. And what does my industry have to offer them? Not a great deal. I have a good friend whose son struggled through the primary school system. He's a bright lad but not hugely good at academic stuff - when he was eight or nine years old, he was still coming home with books about Floppy the Bunny. Kill Floppy the Bunny, became his mother's motif for a while.
Boys like him, are not going to be enticed to read a book which is their reading level, but has a big number on it proclaiming it to be suitable for a child two years younger then they are.
I still edit children's books for an educational company, and am currently working on a series for reluctant readers. It's edgy, contemporary, and I hope will give weaker readers something to get their teeth into , which is actually relevant to them. I would absolutely hate to see them age ranged as I think it would be patronising beyond belief to kids who need to be encouraged not discouraged.
During my time at Scholastic I was privileged to run the Point Horror list, which at the time was the top selling list for teenagers, although it was read by kids as young as 8/9 and as old as 14 - hence my point about the wide ranging nature of children's reading abilities. We sold over 7 million copies of Point Horror in my time at Scholastic across 50 or so titles. I regularly got letters which began, I never liked reading till I found Point Horror. For a while there, I genuinely felt we were making a difference. But, I quickly discovered when I went into schools, there were kids for whom even a Point Horror was too difficult. I always wanted to edit them down and present a version that a reluctant reader could have picked up with pride, but it was hard to know how to present it without them feeling they were being patronised. Plus, the feedback I always got from our sales department was that the reluctant reader market was too small and not worth the candle.
I firmly believe it is worth the candle. There are kids out there who are leaving school at eleven unable to read. They come out of the school system at 16 already disenfranchised and disadavantaged. To break that cycle we need desperately to get them while they are young, and provide them with reading material which is relevant and fun. I don't think they should all be reading Dostoevsky (we don't after all expect all our children to be David Beckham), but they do need to be literate to cope with the real world.
And that's why I'm against age ranging. While it may help parents find suitable books, their children will reject them if they perceive they are being given a book too young for them. Instead, I suggest, this age ranging experiement is linked simply to supermarkets, and doesn't become generic. Or, the supermarkets themselves need to work a bit harder at employing people on the shopfloor who actually understand books, and can offer proper advice, so that the right books do get to the right children.
This issue is being hotly debated right now by a number of writers, librarians, teachers at al, and they've launched a protest/petition which you can find out about here. I urge you to do so, because, though I can see the reasons why age ranging is being suggested, in my view it's going to do more harm ultimately then good. Which would be a great pity.
http://www.notoagebanding.org,
Dr Who: The Forest of the Dead
This is a quickie as much else to do...
But I thought this was great. I was genuinely spooked by Donna getting stuck in the virtual world, and spent half the episode not knowing whether Dr Moon was a benevolent presence or not. Even by the end when I know he was an antivirus programme, I thought not, really. There was something a bit too creepy about him... I loved Donna getting suspicious and then being sucked back into it too. AND, the fact that she met and lost the love her life in the blink of her eye. And the business with the kids was heartbreaking.
As for Alex Kingston. Oooh she was awesome. She punched the Doctor! She tied him up! She sacrificed herself for him... Am rather hoping he will come up with a better solution to saving her then bunging her in a virtual reality world though. I don't think that's my idea of heaven.
I did think they woefully underused Steve Pemberton though. He could/should have been creepy. But I loved Miss Evangelista's mixed up face, and I liked Cal having a tantrum and nearly destroying everything, and I particularly loved the Doctor/Donna exchange How are you? Alright. What, is alright Time Lord Speak for not being alright? How are you? Alright.
Kids were all on the edge of their seats, no 3 was thoroughly confused by the end, and no 1 admitted for the first time ever she'd gone to sleep with the lights on after an episode of Dr Who.
I thought it was fantastic.
Roll on Stephen Moffat's tenure at the helm of the franchise. I think we might all be doing quite a lot more hiding behind the sofa....
But I thought this was great. I was genuinely spooked by Donna getting stuck in the virtual world, and spent half the episode not knowing whether Dr Moon was a benevolent presence or not. Even by the end when I know he was an antivirus programme, I thought not, really. There was something a bit too creepy about him... I loved Donna getting suspicious and then being sucked back into it too. AND, the fact that she met and lost the love her life in the blink of her eye. And the business with the kids was heartbreaking.
As for Alex Kingston. Oooh she was awesome. She punched the Doctor! She tied him up! She sacrificed herself for him... Am rather hoping he will come up with a better solution to saving her then bunging her in a virtual reality world though. I don't think that's my idea of heaven.
I did think they woefully underused Steve Pemberton though. He could/should have been creepy. But I loved Miss Evangelista's mixed up face, and I liked Cal having a tantrum and nearly destroying everything, and I particularly loved the Doctor/Donna exchange How are you? Alright. What, is alright Time Lord Speak for not being alright? How are you? Alright.
Kids were all on the edge of their seats, no 3 was thoroughly confused by the end, and no 1 admitted for the first time ever she'd gone to sleep with the lights on after an episode of Dr Who.
I thought it was fantastic.
Roll on Stephen Moffat's tenure at the helm of the franchise. I think we might all be doing quite a lot more hiding behind the sofa....
Friday, June 06, 2008
Ooh another inspirational song...
Which really really should have gone in the spring time list, but due to a slight aberration of my brain cells it slipped my mind. Can't think why as I've been listening to it endlessly thanks to Radio 2...
Anyway. Here's another singer who I'd dismissed as a 70s no hoper. It's all those terrible shirts, which apparently, so he now says were a joke that went badly wrong...
And. I've talked before about songs inspiring me, catching my emotions, but this one suddenly ripped right through to the heart of a character who wasn't even going to have much of a role originally. Then I heard this and thought, WOW... that's who Noel is.
If I tell you I've also been watching It's A Wonderful Life, you might guess where I'm headed with this.
So hear for your delectation and delight is Pretty Amazing Grace by Neil Diamond. I don't think you have to be religious to get it. And as a bonus as this is from Jonathan Ross you also get Love on the Rocks, which I thought was really naff as a teenager. Which just goes to show you need to grow up sometimes to understand some things...
Anyway. Here's another singer who I'd dismissed as a 70s no hoper. It's all those terrible shirts, which apparently, so he now says were a joke that went badly wrong...
And. I've talked before about songs inspiring me, catching my emotions, but this one suddenly ripped right through to the heart of a character who wasn't even going to have much of a role originally. Then I heard this and thought, WOW... that's who Noel is.
If I tell you I've also been watching It's A Wonderful Life, you might guess where I'm headed with this.
So hear for your delectation and delight is Pretty Amazing Grace by Neil Diamond. I don't think you have to be religious to get it. And as a bonus as this is from Jonathan Ross you also get Love on the Rocks, which I thought was really naff as a teenager. Which just goes to show you need to grow up sometimes to understand some things...
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