Jaye’s Disappointing Days… Have I done it Again?

Have I done it again!

What I needed was a little more enthusiasm, something that had seemingly been mislaid, disrupting my joy in all things writing-related.

All of my past irons were still in the fire, but the flames had long since extinguished.

So, when I felt that joy returning last week, I was overjoyed.

I felt stronger, more capable than I had in ages. More than happy to stoke the fire and ramp up the workload. Just as well, really, for there was a lot to catch up on. My days were full of bliss and determination as I set to work.

Most of my endeavours brought even more joy to my heart, but gradually, the not-so-easy tasks began to make their presence known.

I wasn’t daunted, as I was the new, stronger me now, wasn’t I?

My enthusiasm doubled as I refused to admit defeat. Not so soon, anyway!

It wasn’t long before I realised I was almost back to square one. Too many irons in the fire again, and I wasn’t getting anywhere. The only thing missing was the despondency and depression.

I could avoid the tasks that were defeating me and walk a less complicated path, but I knew I couldn’t live with that.

The first thing that occurred to me was that I had to concentrate on one thing at a time, as it was becoming apparent that my multitasking days had gone the way of all things. Trying to ignore this fact was probably the reason I had painted myself into a corner before.

I will also ask for help more often, as trying to learn anything on YouTube can be disappointing, and I am fast running out of ideas. (And a little patience)

So, there will be changes as I continue to try and make everything work…

Damage Control…

The term “damage limitation” is typically used to refer to the activity of limiting or containing the effects of an accident or error. 

Image by Frauke Feind from Pixabay

It was while I was struggling with a few yoga moves that it occurred to me that I could be wasting my time, as there are times when maintenance becomes damage control. I think I must be approaching that sad state of affairs.

For instance, my heart and lungs are old and stiff due to my advancing years. Estimated duration, 5 years.

My kidneys are also old and beginning to fail. Estimated duration, 15 years.

I haven’t succumbed to diabetes or dementia, and my brain still fires on all cylinders. Well, most of the time, anyway. If that ever decides to play up, it will all be over, bar the shouting.

It’s not as if medication is the answer, for what works for one condition tends to upset one of the others. Will the recently prescribed corticosteroids hold back the fall of Rome, or will the present blessed relief be only temporary?

As a writer, I am familiar with damage control. A form of this comes into play every time I pick up a pen and is how I control the tension in my stories.

These days though, I am allowing the ship to find its own way, and I follow behind, hoping for the best.

To be honest, I am not really enjoying growing old, but I am damn sure I can squeeze some life out of me yet!

Those were the Days…

Image by NoName_13 from Pixabay 

Those Were the Days

I read a post the other day where they were talking about the wonderful sense of freedom to be found behind the wheel of a car.

Immediately, I was transported back to my independent, working woman days when I owned a car.

Learning to drive was a nightmare for me, as it took me a while to learn anything new, but once mastered, the world became my oyster. Not only did I drive myself to work every day, my family found newfound freedom with that car as we visited so many interesting places.

Becoming an experienced driver opened a very different world for me, a world where I finally felt competent and capable, something I had never felt before.

It wasn’t all roses, though; there were a few hair-raising experiences along the way.

Someone dropped something from a bridge just as I drove underneath. The windscreen splintered, leaving me in a state of shock and unable to see anything in front of the car. 

I had been travelling at about 65 mph, and for a few seconds, I froze. I had no memory of anyone behind me, but my instinct was to slam on the brakes in an emergency stop. The silence after the car stopped was deafening, and I sat there stunned and with my eyes shut.

I became aware of someone shouting, and when I opened my eyes, a furious man was standing beside the car, demanding to know what the hell I thought I was doing.

I couldn’t answer him. I was still in shock and confused, but I remember thinking, what the hell did he think I was doing?

More to the point, I wonder what he would have done in the same situation?

He stomped back to his car and drove off. At that point, I wanted to go home too, so somehow, I punched a hole in the splintered glass and drove away.

Another time, we were just leaving the garage in our car, feeling rather pleased that it had miraculously passed its MOT. It was a lovely sunny morning, and our spirits were high. We were looking forward to a visit to the coast that afternoon.

We were waiting at the top of a narrow exit ramp when we saw a rather large laundry van at the bottom of the ramp.

We wondered what the van was doing. Surely, he wasn’t going to reverse up the ramp?

Oh yes, he was, and he obviously hadn’t seen us waiting at the top. He continued to reverse, we expected him to stop at any minute, and when he showed no sign of slowing down, we started thumping the horn like a pair of crazy people.

Because the ramp was narrow, we couldn’t get out of the car. We were being forced to watch the disaster unfolding.

Our car needed a new bonnet and radiator after that, but our nerves took a while to mend!

To this day, every time we see a Sunlight Laundry van, we still want to scream!

I was a driver for more than 25 years before my hip put a stop to my fun, but all those years sitting in the driving seat were some of the best years of my life…

Tuesday Teaser…

Tuesday Teaser


After days of rain, today promises wall-to-wall sunshine. I have just been for my X-ray, and although it feels very cold out there, I think it will warm up later, so I can venture out into the garden.

First, I have something more important to do.  For months, I have been working on our book blurbs. I don’t like them and don’t think they do our books justice. But no matter how hard I try, I cannot come up with anything that inspires me. So not likely to inspire anyone else! They say it takes a different mindset to write a good blurb; obviously, that part of my brain is out to lunch. I’m just grateful the rest of it still works!  I have been researching like a crazy person to find a solution, even if it means paying for it, and yesterday I decided to give Fiverr.com a try. I have used them before for beta reads and am very happy with them. I chose one that wasn’t expensive, had brilliant reviews and an extensive list of material needed. I spent the rest of the afternoon compiling this list and will be sending it off any minute now. I will receive the blurb in two days’ time.

Nothing ventured nothing gained, they say, and whatever I get cannot be any worse than the ones we have already. I will do a comparison post so you can offer your judgement! I am looking forward to a little gardening, even though I don’t think the grass will dry out enough to be cut. There are seeds to sow and a Mother’s Day hydrangea to plant. Such a beautiful blue, and I hope it doesn’t revert to pink.

 Later, I intend to write, hopefully in a good creative mood after all that fresh air…

The Lucky Duckling… #True Story

Image by Melanie from Pixabay

Lucy, the Lucky Duckling…

I was watching Britain’s Got Talent last night when a duck waddled onto the stage. Another one of those animal acts that occasionally are brilliant, I thought, but usually amusing when the animals decide to have fun instead.

This duck had no intention of performing, so the act didn’t last long.

For one magical moment, I remembered a duck I once knew. Her name was Lucy, and I was very fond of her way back in my childhood.

We lived in the countryside on a small farm, and every Spring, the farmer would send for 12 newborn chicks. They would arrive in a cardboard box that had holes in the lid. It was a magical moment when that lid was raised, and we could see the tiny chicks. They never seemed any the worse for their deliverance and were soon installed in the barn in a special pen complete with a heat lamp.

In one particular year, 12 ducklings were also ordered, and we awaited their arrival with a mixture of excitement and curiosity. When they arrived, there were 13 in the box, something we would later be grateful for.

After a few weeks, they were transferred into an outdoor run, always our first point of call after school. Only we couldn’t see any of the ducklings in the pen.

Nobody would say where they had gone, just that they must have escaped somehow.

Later, I found out that they had indeed escaped onto the main road and been run over by the passing cars. This information was kept from the younger children, and it was a hard secret for me to keep. The next day, a neighbour turned up with a cardboard box that also had holes in the lid.

I was given the box and told to open it. Inside was what I liked to think was the thirteenth duckling, Lucy.

We often had a chicken for dinner, but Lucy lived to a grand old age, waddling around the garden…


Image by Birgit from Pixabay 

Silent Sunday… a place for peace…

Image by Pixabay.com

I found this beautiful place on Pixabay.com… I may be here awhile…