Like many of us, we began this blog because we needed a platform to tell the world we were writers and show off our books.
We didn’t have a clue when we started, stumbling around, making more mistakes than we want to remember now, but we have learned so much and still find new stuff to know all the time.
Along the way, so many things have tried to defeat us, like PowerPoint, Book Funnel and Mailerlite. And of course, marketing in all its many forms still presents an almost daily challenge! I sometimes wish I weren’t quite so stubborn, as there are days, I could admit defeat and walk away. But it hasn’t happened yet, and I doubt it ever will, fingers crossed!
Somehow, nine years have passed, and our humble blog now has over 5.000 followers!
It would take me forever to thank everyone who has brought us this far, but we do thank you all for simply being there with all your wonderful and often helpful comments.
Every day we get to visit so many different countries, meeting people and chatting about all manner of subjects. We get involved, virtually of course, in some exciting and often constructive conversations, many about issues that are close to our hearts, like photography, writing, gardening, bonsai and poetry, the list is endless…
On any one day, there can be several ongoing conversations, either by email or on our website/blog. It is impossible to feel lonely, even in these difficult days, with all these lovely people to talk to.
Hopefully, we have many more years to come, as there are still so many bridges to cross…
When I wrote this post I had no idea that this theme was being highlighted on The Insecure Writer’s Support Group, so thought it would be a good idea to link with them, to show our support!
Anita surprised me this morning, by asking to read your post, Jim as she is determined to learn the finer arts of blogging/ Here is the original post and Anita’s comments…
Good morning Jim,
The hedge… a good way to remember your grandfather.
Tackling the hedge… sounds to me as if your grandfather is still having fun.
The new younger stuff… seems to me a blend of two souls, old and new.
Todays hedges… here I can see nothing goes to waste.
(Personally, I like order)
laying hedges… I hope you have better luck this time.
Complaining … people do like to moan. It’s what keeps them going on to the next good moan, as to the schemes and contracts, it’s a wonder you know which end is up. I believe nothing is ever truly wasted, it’s a learning curve to another person’s way of life.
Tuesday… I would like to spend a day on your farm with my sleeves rolled up.
Jaye would love to know how you placed those four hearts at the bottom of your post…
” …of all the things I’ve lost, I miss my mind the most…” Mark Twain
The New Year and the new month have been slipping past me at an alarming rate, and what with being under house arrest and suffering a miserable cold (at least I hope it’s a cold) I am becoming a bit depressed.
I haven’t been doing anything creative. I can’t think straight and just realised how close I am getting to despair.
I have small moments of pull yourself together girl and quite a few just have a look at the WIP… but nothing is working. It feels like an eternity since anything was normal, and not much hope of any of it turning up.
Every now and then, I have a moment when life seems better and my head clears, only to vanish again when the paracetamol wears off, leaving me a pathetic sniffing heap again. It isn’t just the aching joints, headache and streaming nose, the depression is worming its way into everything.
I have been trying to keep on top of the emails and other small jobs, but anything else just slips through my fingers. But I have been doing a lot of thinking about the future of Books & Bonsai. Not enough, obviously, to get me doing anything creative but at least the grey matter is trying to function. My WIP is haunting me. It’s a mess, with piles of notes depending on what I have already researched. Before I can move in any direction, I must make a workable plan.
And this morning, that was what I did. The germs have retreated enough to allow a little get up and go to creep back into my life, and I now have a new list.
ABOUT US: For those new to our website and blog, we would like to thank you for visiting. Between us, we write in several different genres, so there should be something for everyone to enjoy. Anita cannot abide computers, so I (Jaye) do all the technical (oily rag) stuff! Our books tend to be varied, from horror to supernatural romance and coming of age, and mystery thrillers. We try to keep our website interesting with guest posts, bloggers, poetry, and reviews for all the books we read. Our books are shown in the right-hand sidebar and clicking on the images should take you straight to Amazon.
If you enjoyed your visit, we would love you to leave a comment…
( For the visually challenged reader, the image shows the sun setting over the horizon, and in the foreground, you can see rail tracks)
I sit beneath the red light of a dying day Waiting for the next train to take me away from the tears shed in this town The gentle sound of water Soothing my broken heart He said he loved me while loving another I cannot be an extra string to his bow One more notch on his bed post I need to be someone’s one and only…
Words, small treasures I have many favourites Love, kiss, cuddle, friends Picnics, Christmas, birthdays I write them on a card Keeping each one safe In my bedroom chest At the bottom of my bed You see, like pick and mix When I dip in and pull one out The word there, a sweet memory…
For the visually challenged writer, the image is the drawing of a girl’s face. The girl appears to be lying on her side.
So young, so wide eyed From pencil scratching comes so much Does she see her future? Is it filled with the sadness? That welling in her eyes Has she been left to lie alone? For too long that hope has died Look deeper, there are no tears She cannot cry Dark days, evil hands have stolen her childhood away…
Words fly Shot from a crossbow, they reach far and wide They create and destroy, wound, and give pleasure Making you smile, making you cry They have no sell by date Some may lift you up, carry you through a cold day They have also been known to change someone’s life for the better, unlike the trial of Sunday school sermons. Over the years, they have taught me not to be afraid The cruel barbed words of school years long behind me Still I find, it is best to say a kindness Before it is too late…
We didn’t want a big tree this Christmas, so when we saw this pretty fibre optic tree in the shop window, we took it home, content with our preparations.
The next time we went to town, we spotted a wonderful tree in a charity shop window. This was a small tree too, although quite different from the one we already had. Old fashioned ribbons and flowers gave it an old-world charm, as if it had come straight from a Dickens novel.
We had to buy it, even though we already had a tree.
It was decided that the Dickens tree would be in pride of place in our decorations, relegating the fibre optic tree to the dining room.
And this, as they say, is when the fun started.
On the first night, the fibre optic tree turned itself off at 10 pm. Puzzled, we checked the instructions, but it wasn’t supposed to do that. It hadn’t overheated either. Before we could turn it on the second day, it turned itself on and then off again at 10pm!
We made sure it was switched off, thinking it just a fluke, although it felt distinctly weird. We are quite used to weird in this house. Remember that red light reflecting on our window, the one we never could find the reason for?
The next night, we switched it on and waited. It felt uneasy, as if someone we couldn’t see was controlling the tree.
It was one of those trees that has the capability of a choice of different light patterns. Twinkling, fading and several other combinations. We only wanted the static light, so we were very glad it didn’t decide to muck about with the sequence too.
Despite the weirdness, we have kept the tree… and it has turned itself on every afternoon, and off in time for bed.
What would you have done in these circumstances, chucked it out or run for the hills?