Month: January 2013

Life on Chicken Road…

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chickenrdIs Hell. If it’s not ‘the child’ racing around naked, screaming and doing very bad things with his potty, it’s that Hell-spawn; Flossy the rescue cat. And better yet, the two compete for my attention and my lap. It’s Clash of the Titans in miniature; he’s three and a half, and she’s a big, fat, hairy, house cat – they’re about the same size, only one has superior teeth and the other a superior brain. I’ve yet to decide which is which…

Anyway, this morning I was rudely awoken by a lot of noise in the bathroom, next door to my bedroom. Apparently a plumber had been called. Nothing to do with me I might add. It was 8.30 am – middle of the night! He was very noisy, as was the plumbing and ‘the child’ who insisted on a loud and running commentary with his as yet, undecipherable speech, of the plumber’s activities right outside my door. By 9.15am I could take no more a blearily removed my eye-mask and stumbled towards the kitchen and the Blessed Coffeepot. I didn’t make it. Accosted by both Titans, Flossy and ‘the child’. I should point out that neither Titan belongs to me. They just blight my existence like a couple of harpies, sent by the Gods to torment me. Flossy was demanding food with the wrath of Zeus in withdrawal, ‘the child’, a hug, a kiss and that I help him with a jigsaw puzzle. He refuses to wear clothes. He dragged me by the hand to the offending puzzle, which I was expected to piece together, uncafinated. Not to be thwarted by a three year old’s jigsaw, I struggled on, only to discover there were in fact two jigsaws mixed together and pieces were missing… Ye Gods! And did I mention it was only 9.15am and I’d had no coffee?

Opportunity presented itself and I escaped to the kitchen, only to be followed by ‘the child’ who informed me that he wanted a wee, did it in his conveniently located potty and then, as I was filling the Blessed Coffeepot, he helpfully informs me that he is emptying it – I turn to see him upend the offending wee-filled potty into the sink and all over the dishes… Joy!

“I want to sit on your knee!” He screams, but so does the cat. They eye each other, then jostle for position, Flossy attaches herself to the knot of my dressing gown belt and proceeds to suckle on it, ignoring  ‘the child’ who pulls her tail – an act of war – as I raise the mug of Blessed Coffee to my mouth….

This, my friends, is a slice of life on Chicken Road….


Hijacked then hacked!

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Or was it really the other way around… one of the websites I work on:, started twitching just before Xmas. When I say twitching, I mean strange and unexplainable things happening, gremlins in the cyber machine, gremlins promoting Viagra of all things. OK, bad pictures in my head. Anyway, I noticed that when the blog posts reached the facebook page, they no longer contained the content I had written, but an advert for the little blue pills! I pulled everything apart that I could think of and decided to simple remove the description until I could figure it out. After my Xmas break, I check the web site, ready to do some new year posting, only to discover that the website had been hacked by some cooky cyber army demanding freedom and proclaiming no mercy. Yikes! I won’t bore you with the details, but we got the website back and while making additional backups – I discovered the first hack – the Viagra takeover of my blogposts. The gremlins had planted their Viagra add right in the middle of the HTML code on the page header! The little critters have been evilly tinkering around for a while.  But today they saw BRIGHT LIGHT! BRIGHT LIGHT! KABOOM!  Better than the microwave. And if you’ve never seen Gremlins this will make absolutely no sense what so ever!

Beyond Resistance

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That’s where I’m up to. Book Three of Steven Pressfields The War of Art. Basically, we all resist doing our Work. Especially us creative types. He said the hardest thing is not writing (or painting or what ever your Work is) but actually sitting down to do it. I have to agree. I used to go to a café with the intention of writing, I ordered a large latte, opened my lap top and started writing. As if on cue, the muse did indeed arrive just like Pressfield says, even though I felt no inspiration stirring inside me, no draw to sit and Work. Although I had the plot and structure worked out in advance, I had no idea before opening the lap top exactly what I was going to write, what would happen next or where things were going. And a book tumbled out over a period of months. A book that had been ruminating for years before. My problem now is, the monster at the gate…

Editing begins today…

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I spend a lot of time blogging for other people. Yes, it’s my job, I enjoy it and I get to work with great people and promote services that help others and do good in the world, but… I have been asking myself, why not me? I mean, why am I not blogging for myself? Promoting my own work? Developing my own web page, basically doing for myself what I am already doing for others? I could spiral down into some self-indulgent, well-rehearsed psychobabble about women who always put others before themselves, about the overwhelming feelings of unworthiness, lack of self-esteem blah blah… OR, I could, to quote Nigel Risner’s Impact Code, “GET OVER IT” and get on with it. So, editing (again) of my first book StoryMaster begins today. Blogging begins today. The web site will come along because I can’t do it all at once. But I am starting RIGHT NOW.