Departure

I was well prepared for Halloween, bowl full of fun size chocolate bars and assorted deadly sugars. Hopefully there would be some mini packs of Maltesers left over for me. The plastic pumpkin was in the front window, the red lantern in the porch and a spider hanging over the front door. I was expecting the angels from next door, the little devils across the road and assorted unknown children from round the corner. What I had not planned for was being a ghost myself, giving some poor little kids the shock of their lives.

I did not recall being invited for an interview or seeking out agents and publishers. As an Indie Author I knew no one was interested in my writing, these were scammers after my money.

I stood up to leave, feeling a bit odd, but trying to look dignified as I looked around to see where the door was.

A view of my front garden in semi darkness appeared behind three small figures in horrid masks, cloaks and rubber hands. Then they were eclipsed by a huge shape, in my colourful leisure clothes, falling on top of them. The mound of my clothes remained motionless as half a dozen little hands and feet struggled to escape. What had I just seen, was this an elaborate joke? I looked down to see what I was wearing, but my body seemed to have disappeared. I decided I should pay closer attention to what they were saying and observe their appearance, so I could write about this experience in my blog… then it dawned on me…

I could not understand what they meant till they took me to the writers’ room where I recognised a few of my favourite authors and a whole host of Indie Authors. Several volunteered to show me the ropes, writers of every kind of fiction from gentle children’s stories and uplifting romance to the darkest of crime and horror. Now it was so clear, so obvious why some people had happy lives and good health, while others endured unending misery. It depended who had written your life. I turned to my escorting angels.

I asked about the children at my door, if they were alright.

Silly Saturday- Back In Time

It’s time to change your clocks if you wish to align with Greenwich Meantime. You must stay up till 2am to change your clocks or spot the moment your mobile phone, computer or radio magically jumps back in time. Then you can have a lie in as we gain an extra hour of bedtime.

And if orange is your favourite colour it’s pumpkin season and only a week to go till Halloween. As it is also half term I have visitors interrupting blogging transmission so I’m flying off for a while.

Specsavers

Tuesday Tiny Tale – Friendship

‘That’s all done then, they won’t be able to use their devices till the Easter holidays.’

Now they would be wondering if she was still alive, she had not thought to share a brief post saying she was taking a blogging break, implying exciting real life adventures.

Sea Fever

Sea Fever

I must go down to the seas again, the Southbourne beach to see,

And all I ask is a beach hut and a kettle to make tea,

And the wave’s kick and the wind’s blast and my white body’s shaking,

As I fall into the sea’s face under a green wave breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the ripping tide,

Is a wild call and a warning from the RNLI.

And all I ask is a windy day with the kite surfers flying,

And the flung boards and the blown ropes and herring gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the cliff side beach hut life,

To the promenade and the children’s way where the sand castles are rife,

And all I ask is some knitting yarn and ideas for Tidalscribe,

And warm sun and a neat chair while I write a diatribe.

John Edward Masefield – (1 June 1878 – 12 May 1967) was an English poet and writer. He was Poet Laureate from 1930 until his death in 1967. Among his best known works are the children’s novels The Midnight Folk and The Box of Delights, and the poems “The Everlasting Mercy” and “Sea-Fever“.

Silly Sunday – Happenings and not Happenings

Staycation

Monday Meander – Sun and Shade

Or that way?

Breezer Bus 70 dropped us off at Alum Chine Beach and we walked up Alum Chine then up to Westbourne shops. Don’t worry, there are plenty of buses home from here, or you can retrace your steps back to the beach.

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/cjdg1p97v0go