Category: Writing

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Adulthood Non-fiction Observations Stories Writing

In a crazy world where good things happen.

Fresh oranges --- Image by © Sprint/Corbis

8.

This is the tiniest little snippet that gave me the biggest boost!

Like many, lots of families are getting into a routine of going for their one walk a day at the same time every day doing the same route. In a normal world, this would probably get a tad tedious. In today’s world, it is a highlight to many days.

I don’t blame them at all.

One particular family have no shame in admitting this is what they do and their pit stop at the shop is one highlight, always. Not only is it a highlight for them, but it’s also a highlight for us. We always have a laugh.

Their little girl is somewhat obsessed with orange Calippo Ice lollies. Not a bad choice. All was very well in her little world until the day came when we had run out COMPLETELY. Or should I say, so she thought…

I knew almost concrete certainly that there was one left, hiding discreetly in the wrong compartment. I was right. Of course I was. She was delighted.

The next day she was in again. My heart sank. She almost cried. I promised her that there would be more the following day. I promised a three year old. My mistake.

Our delivery was delayed. After a very diplomatic discussion, she let me off. THERE IS A GOD! Thankfully, for me, the delivery was only delayed by a single day and the next day she was thrilled. Once again. A very happy camper.

Good times.

The End.

For links to all of my writing related stuff, my link tree is below. You can also find published work in my portfolio. My debut novel, Dear Brannagh, is available on Amazon along with the sequel Don’t Tell Jack. If you enjoy what you’re seeing here and are interested in following me on my writing journey, then please subscribe to my newsletter by dropping your name and email. There will be plenty of giveaways, news hot off the press and an honest insight into life as an author. Thank you x

linktr.ee/HJMWriting

Categories
Adulthood Non-fiction Observations Writing

In a crazy world where good things happen.

7.

From the day that panic buying began, work has been mental. Honestly, it’s been like Christmas Eve every day on repeat. Mental. This has meant that my usual writing schedule has flown quite forcefully out of the window.

I have gone from chilled, to freaking out, to chilled, to care free and back to freaking out about this. After some time I realised that there’s not much I can do about it other than ensure that I look after my body so that I can continue to help the community. That’s the priority.

Each week when I plan I prioritise. Which projects need completeing first. Sometimes I will put something on hold in order to complete others. Some weeks I manage to fit it all in. I don’t know how. It feels good.

Quickly, I made the decision not to plan during this crisis. At most I get two hours out between 7am and 6pm and I am ALWAYS exhausted. I come home, maybe eat some rubbish. Usually drink a warm beverage and sit my arse on the sofa. Productive, not.

I made the decision not to plan writing in these small windows of time because, quite frankly, what is the point. As tired as I am the writing I produce would most probably be useless and I always feel begrudged when I am FORCING myself to be creative. It should come naturally. Creativity should always come naturally.

This is so true.

On Sunday’s during this lock down, I have found myself getting my laptop out. Sunday’s is usually the day when I avoid this unless I simply feel like it. I have usually completed all tasks at hand during my carefully planned week so Sunday’s are for me.

Recently I have found so much writing inspiration on Sunday’s.

The first time was to celebrate the fact that it was sunny so I was writing outside for the first time this year. But this has continued. I have found that actually, though writing almost nothing all week, my productivity when I simply fancy it is through the roof.

I wrote three chapters of my second novel in a row. I am writing more blog posts than ever and enjoying each one I write. I’m reading loads and getting so many ideas. My creative brain is on overdrive and my notes on my phone are filling faster than ever.

I love it. The lock down has done wonders for my writing. Any creatives among you, I really hope you have found the same!

A selfishly personal tale, but still upbeat and positive so thought I’d share.

You’re welcome.

Categories
Adulthood Non-fiction Observations Special moments Stories Writing

In a crazy world where good things happen.

6.

We were sitting in the sun, two peas in a pod. The best of friends.

The birds were louder than they have ever been. Ever. Maybe it was because there is less noise pollution without traffic. Or the birds are loving the fact that the world around them is less people-y?! We will never know.

The breeze was perfect.

I was wearing a new top which I loved. 1/10 items and I loved them all. AND THEY FIT! Unheard of. Yes, I fell into the lock down online shopping trap. ORDER! Why not? It felt great.

We were chatting about the exciting future. We were talking about food and which takeaway to order. We were discussing good things and good times.

I forgot to get us drinks.

We were looking at more lovely clothes and talking about lovely words. We were watching videos that made us smile. The warmth was thrilling on our skin. We discussed plans.

I forgot our needs for coffee and water.

We were chatting in the sun and it was so nice to be chatting when we weren’t so exhausted. So nice. We hadn’t just finished a long and tiring shift making conversation difficult. It just flowed. No slurring of words.

Though that’s usually down to alcohol.

Two best of friends just sitting letting the world spin. Letting time tick on but not having a care in the world. Sitting comfortably and quite content.

All was good.

It was a Sunday. We didn’t have to do anything. No pressing tasks at hand. The butterflies flew all around us. Nature was so loud. So wild. So lovely.

I forgot our drinks.

I just want to remember. I want to remember snippets like this from these times. When the world around us is so bizarre, unsafe and uncertain.

In this we weren’t actually doing anything. Just being. Treasure it. It is in the moment we must live. Times like these we must cherish. Especially now.

For links to all of my writing related stuff, my link tree is below. You can also find published work in my portfolio. My debut novel, Dear Brannagh, is available on Amazon along with the sequel Don’t Tell Jack. If you enjoy what you’re seeing here and are interested in following me on my writing journey, then please subscribe to my newsletter by dropping your name and email. There will be plenty of giveaways, news hot off the press and an honest insight into life as an author. Thank you x

linktr.ee/HJMWriting

Categories
Adulthood Non-fiction Observations Stories Writing

In a crazy world where good things happen.

5.

It was Saturday morning and I wasn’t hungover. My gosh I can’t remember the last time I was badly hungover. I kind of miss it. I haven’t managed to stay awake for long enough to drink enough to warrant a heavy head in the morning.

I divert.

Judging by the order list, I knew how busy it was going to get but felt that pre-7am I might get a snippet of time to organise myself ready for the rush.

I was wrong.

Customer after customer after customer out getting papers and milk before the birds had finished singing their first song. While I was very happy to serve, I was getting a teeny tiny bit stressed about the amount of orders glaring out of the book at me, knowing that the less organised I was the more things I’d miss and the more customers would be disappointed.

Thank God I wasn’t hungover.

This feeling left me when one happy customer (still pre-7am) started piling his goods onto the counter. Goods kept on piling up as he retrieved huge amounts of fruit and veg that I didn’t even know we had left, and all sorts of other items off the shelf.

“Is that everything for you?” I kept asking and still he was adding and adding, unaware as to what he needed but impressed at the range we stocked within four small walls.

Once he felt he’d cleared us out of most things, I tried to pack for him. I am the world’s worst packer. But still, he was extremely happy, we’d saved him time, he needn’t go anywhere else for the bank holiday weekend.

Good times.

Categories
Adulthood Non-fiction Observations Writing

In a crazy world where good things happen.

4.

This is my third post this week. Not bad. It beats my usual record but could be better as a lot of good stories have come out of this week.

This week has been a whirlwind. It’s been a week that could have turned out horrendously but actually turned out great. In short, it’s been pretty incredible…AND EMOTIONALLY EXHAUSTING!!!!!!!

It began when a situation which could have had the worst outcome ever, had the absolute best possible outcome. An eagerly anticipated result came after a long long wait. The business increased and the tiredness got the better of us sometimes, dampening our spirits.

But, and of course on top of it all, there were some lovely stories during this awful time. Stories which we must cling on to. Stories which will get us through.

I hope my snippets brighten your day wherever you are.

I’ll tell you one tale now and leave other snippets to be told throughout next week in case it all turns to shit. Hopefully there will just be more and more good insights so a good news pile will build up for me to work through next weekend, and the next.

During this terrible time music has helped us at work a lot. It has helped to keep what always has been a positive environment, positive. We’ve had playlist after playlist attempting to lift our moods and keep our spirits up.

When reaching the brink of exhaustion a happy tune plays and we smile (and sometimes dance) continuing to embrace our weighing out of flour, pasta, tea bags, fairy liquid capsules, boxing up orders etc etc.

It’s amazing the power of music. It always has been and I think it always will be.

Well, on Thursday afternoon we had the music playing through my phone. Each time I got a text it quietened. Text after text and I wondered what had happened. Surely the orders weren’t coming in that thick and fast?!

It turned out, word on the street, we had a shout out on the radio to thank us for all we’re doing currently to help.

We were on the radio. BBC RADIO 2. Steve Wright in the afternoon. Such a boost.

It really was lovely, it gave us the boost we needed and we thank you lots whoever took the time to ring in!

A happy story in among all this madness. More to come, stay tuned… 😉

For links to all of my writing related stuff, my link tree is below. You can also find published work in my portfolio. My debut novel, Dear Brannagh, is available on Amazon along with the sequel Don’t Tell Jack. If you enjoy what you’re seeing here and are interested in following me on my writing journey, then please subscribe to my newsletter by dropping your name and email. There will be plenty of giveaways, news hot off the press and an honest insight into life as an author. Thank you x

linktr.ee/HJMWriting

Categories
Adulthood Non-fiction Stories Writing

In a crazy world where good things happen.

3.

From about 3pm onward recently I have found tiredness getting in the way of my smile and upbeat enthusiasm. I’m done. It’s as if the business slows along with my energy. It is during this time period when good stories get me through.

The other day I was getting faded when a lady came in adhering very strictly to the social distancing measures. I get it. Everyone is being careful but some are certainly stricter and way more scared than others. This is no time for judgement. I simply went with it a reached as far as my arm would let me in order to take the note from her and then had to semi chuck the change back into her hand.

Apparently I wasn’t being as subtle as I had thought as she cottoned on to my confused expression.

It turns out she works for the NHS so witnesses this pandemic through a very different perspective to me. I admire them all.

We got chatting. She was telling me how awful the supermarkets are and because she is in the vulnerable category as well as working longer hours, she is trying to get deliveries rather than physically going shopping.

She was telling me how difficult it is to find slots available despite having a reason to be classed as a priority customer. We were discussing how ludicrous it all is.

I asked if she had our number, ensured she lived locally (as in not in Manchester or something drastic when delivering would be insane) which I knew she would, and explained how we would deliver if she ever needed.

She was delighted and didn’t realise how much we stocked. Nor did she realise that we offered to deliver.

That was one worry off her mind, she said, and happily left.

Another happy tale.

For links to all of my writing related stuff, my link tree is below. You can also find published work in my portfolio. My debut novel, Dear Brannagh, is available on Amazon along with the sequel Don’t Tell Jack. If you enjoy what you’re seeing here and are interested in following me on my writing journey, then please subscribe to my newsletter by dropping your name and email. There will be plenty of giveaways, news hot off the press and an honest insight into life as an author. Thank you x

linktr.ee/HJMWriting

Categories
Adulthood Non-fiction Writing

I think I had a bad dream…

I think I had a really bad dream the other night, I woke into a world where everything had gone wrong,
There was this virus that was spreading faster than anyone could handle and people were suffering, the figures rising on and on.

Other countries ahead of us were breaking news so scary to hear,
It was like watching our lives before it happened and knowing exactly what to fear.

It was like a film, still is, it doesn’t seem real,
Happy, full of gratitude and luck, I don’t know how else to feel.

Self isolation, quarantine and social distancing were the measures,
Pub closures, restaurants, any place where people gathered.

Life as we knew it was put on hold,
Stick to the advice we were told.

So, tell me, what will go down in history, how did we react?

Flocking to supermarkets and buying everything off the shelf,
First it was toilet rolls, then pasta, paracetamol, eggs and bread all those in good health.

While others at home struggled to get the goods,
Those who really needed them, they were stuck in the hood.

So Boris tried again, he came on tele to simply say:
Stay at home, please everyone. Unless it’s essential take another day.

Thankfully the situation appears to be improving,
Though the queues in the supermarkets, I’ve heard, are not moving.

The shelves are filling slowly and essentials many are able to get,
The round of applause on Thursday evening is something most will never forget.

Community is coming together and kindness is appearing near and far,
Just think, please, before you get in your car.

It’s for the wellbeing of the world, we must abide,
Stay at home, support the NHS, and help to save lives.

Categories
fiction Stories Writing

Dalliance (Part 3)

He was the first person to decide things for her. He was the first to control when she got up, what she did in a day, what time she left to go home and what time she would be going out again. He didn’t much care for fashion and particularly liked her style, it was one of the things he pointed out at the early stages when he was still trying to chat her up, but if anyone decided fashion for her then it was him. He controlled everything and in waiting on his command for them to leave the field she contemplated when and how it had happened this way. For the first time since her eyes clocked him in the office three months ago, part of her felt ashamed for letting this happen.

‘Ok, now we can go,’ he instructed.

‘What if I want to stay here a little longer,’ Lisa replied, with a flirtatious tone to her voice, not meaning a word of what she was saying.

‘Then you can stay here on your own.’

Sometimes Lisa got frustrated at how Darren held so much control over her and she thought about this as they walked hand in hand back into the city, knowing that this action must stop when they reached the second bridge. As they walked the same feeling that filled Lisa whenever in Darren’s company trickled through her body. A smile covered her face and warmth was felt in her heart, his hand strong in hers. The temperature of the air felt hot on their skin too as if they were on holiday in Barcelona and heading for the next bottle of under-priced wine.

The memory of how perfect their evening had been deflected all of this frustration and she forced herself to allow the worry to leave with it and merely enjoy the moments that they had left before they both returned home. Home to their individual apartments on different streets with different families to care for. It was gone ten, but Lisa would still have to contend with Mollie’s nightmares that were happening on repeat lately and Darren would return to a peaceful household, ready for his one-year old’s morning cries at around three o’clock in the morning.

Categories
fiction Stories Writing

Dalliance (Part 2)

Tonight’s spot was a darkening skyline, an empty field and spiky grass on their bottoms. They had forgotten a blanket, or rather they intentionally didn’t bring a blanket for fear somebody would notice their plan and follow them. They always wished to be alone on these special occasions.

The sunset had been and gone in its deep orange glory and they had both captured it on their phones, purposefully not capturing an image of the two of them gazing into it and ensuring that they posted the pictures online at very different times. They felt a sunset post on Instagram looks far less suspicious than a selfie of the two of them, plainly stating their actions, but the memory of a wonderful time would still be there, captured on their phones.

‘Come on, Daz, we really should get going,’ said Lisa, noticing the dark and pre-empting the questions that she would receive on her return home.

‘Please. One moment more.’

Once again Darren’s authority had won her over and she remained seated for half an hour longer than she would have done if on her own.

Lisa had always been such an independent individual and never relied much on anyone else. Throughout her education she was thoroughly organised and depended only on herself for answers. She had a perfected morning routine from the age of ten which included making her own breakfast, her own lunch and her parents a cup of tea each, just the way they liked it. This ritual wasn’t even instigated by her parents because by the time she reached the age when they would have encouraged independence she already had so much so didn’t need their guidance.

When she started her first job, she never relied on her mother to wake her in the morning and in fact most of the time she was doing the wake-up rounds and getting her parents ready for the day.

She couldn’t understand when she went to university how some of her friends had a selection of meals made by their parents and stored in the freezer so all they had to do was microwave them each night. One of her friends’ mothers went as far as labelling each meal with which day of the week it needed to be consumed on, removing any need for thought there too. She couldn’t understand how people had got to the age of eighteen and didn’t know how to boil an egg. Nor did she see why they needed their mothers to ring them on the morning of an exam to check that they were awake in time. It was a different world and totally bizarre to the one she inhabited. Despite her advanced self-government skills, she was weak when it came to Darren.

Categories
fiction Stories Writing

Dalliance (Part 1)

‘I’m tired. Shall we go to bed now?’

‘You’re always tired, love.’

‘I know, but the worrying makes me so tired I get sick.’

‘You worry far too much. Chill out, it’s all going to be fine.

‘Please, honey. My eyes are literally drooping shut. I might never be able to open them again, you know?’

‘Really?’

‘Really.’

‘You do have beautiful eyes.’

‘Are they your favourite feature of mine?’

‘One of many.’

‘Stop changing the subject. Bed.’

‘Ooh. Miss dominant. Let’s wait here a little bit longer.’

‘Oh, ok then.’

Darren poured the remainder of the wine equally into each glass and spoke with such charm in his voice and that same smirk on his face that Lisa had fallen for three months ago when they locked eyes on each other in the office. Nobody noticed at the time except the two of them who spent the best part of a week staring into each other’s desk space before acknowledging their admiration and suggesting meeting outside of work.

Lisa found it incredibly difficult to disagree with anything he said so she simply went along with it all, as naughty as she felt. They would sit in the seediest spots, but it all seemed fine because she was with him and he was with her.

They rarely spoke much when in these places, they just sat and enjoyed each other’s energy pressing so closely onto their skin that it remained with them when they were apart. This could be for the next few hours, the next few days or once it was a whole week but the energy impression remained on their frame throughout the time, so it felt as though they were never truly separated.

Lisa hadn’t had many lovers in her time and certainly nobody that she loved quite in the same way as Darren. It was a different kind of love altogether. A love that grabbed her by both hands and would never let her go, she knew that. The sort that would simultaneously get you in to trouble, whilst keeping you out of it as well. It was like a friend who was a bad influence, one you knew should be ditched but you also knew your life would be significantly worse off without it.