Categories
Adulthood Non-fiction Observations Stories

Week Review – I’m excited to walk again

If anyone read my snippet from last week or knows me personally, you’ll know all about burn-gate and the story of how I managed to get myself a second degree burn. All medical folk I spoke to or showed said I should’ve gone straight to A&E. It was BAD.

Fast forward a week and I am (almost) back to normal and feeling very lucky/ proud of my body for recovering so well. And grateful to my nurse friends for fixing me!

Due to burn-gate, life temporarily stopped towards the end of last week. The heat didn’t help. By Saturday morning I was physically at work. I was physically there but unable to do a great deal due to hardly being able to walk. My pain was all that was on my mind. That and how on earth I managed to spill a boiling coffee over my lap????!!!!!

The weekends plans were pretty much non-existent. I lay there feeling very sorry for myself. When my siblings were heading off on a walk I so wanted to join them! My friend had assessed my wound and was very happy with how it was healing, but advised very strongly against going for the walk. I had to take her advice, if a nurse tells you not to, then don’t. Especially knowing the pain of the previous day.

So I stayed home, sulked and drank beer. But my gosh am I glad I did because as of yesterday I removed the dressing and now burn-gate is almost closed!

I’m so excited to walk again this weekend.

All of my blog posts can be found at https://www.harrietmills.co.uk/ and to read my published work visit my portfolio.

Categories
fiction Stories Writing

a lock down novel: 7

(a snippet of)

Chapter 7, Mary

Days have merged into weeks when I have felt permanently exhausted, entirely drained. I have felt fidgety as if I want to get outside and do things but the thought of physically acting upon that drives me crazier still, so I have mostly remained here in my room.

The shaking sensation in my hands have been beyond my control and I can hardly hold the pen that I am writing with now which is nothing on what they have been some days.

My skin is itchy and I have a huge rash over my face and arms which has always been a sign of a breakdown. I have blotchy patches all over and scabs from where I have picked in a panic or worry until blood drips onto the off-white carpet. At least that’s the cleaner’s problem. It is a silly colour choice for a place of this sort anyway.

My hair is beginning to fall out too which is what happened last year when all of this started, well, sort of when it started.

My legs ache. My clothes are hanging off me because I haven’t eaten for what must be days if not a whole week now. I can’t remember. My memory is going too which is scary because a lot of the time that is all I have to hold on to. Memories. How precious they are.

I spent some time earlier (I think it was today) looking through old photos that they allowed me to have in here. Some were of Erin and Jack so young I could cup them in my hands, like tiny puppies not ready to leave their mum yet. Some were of them only a few months back which makes me so proud to look at. To look at how they have grown into such fantastic humans with little help from me. Though I have a bit of pride to take for it I guess, I wasn’t always completely absent.

The children have hardly wanted to visit. I think the few times that they have appeared has been out of forceful bribery by Eileen. Perhaps a promise of McDonalds on the way home or a trip to the cinema to see the latest release.

What a good aunt she still is. No matter what we throw at her she keeps a strong frame within herself to hold everything together and keep those children onto a path of success and independence for which I will always be grateful.

Categories
Adulthood Non-fiction Observations Stories Writing

Lock down – an update

Week 10, 11, 12? I don’t really know to be honest. This week I left the house for the first time since Boris announced we stayed home on March 23rd. It was stranger than I had imagined.

I only left to get my MOT!

Having waited patiently in an empty reception at the garage, nothing seemed too different to before. Besides, my life hasn’t changed much during this in terms of routine. Of course, it is busier than ever and I am more tired than ever, but in terms of my daily schedule it is much the same. Wake up, go to work, drink too much wine, fall asleep and do it all over again.

I’ve seen people. I’ve witnessed social distancing but not to the level of supermarkets and hour long queues to get into a bank. I don’t intent to experience that either. No thank you.

So, having enjoyed an hour to myself reading my book while waiting to see if my car was broken or not, I upped and left. My car wasn’t broken. Hoorah!

I decided to make a trip of it and fill up with petrol too (I know how to live) so I pulled up into the garage next door. Well, I didn’t expect to find it so bizarre entering the first building that wasn’t my work in ten weeks. I felt like I was in an apocalyptic film, the only person left on earth, trying to survive. An essential purchase of a packet of Jammie Dodger biscuits, my petrol and I left.

Writing during lock down…

In terms of writing during lock down I am having mixed experiences. Last weekend was a bank holiday weekend. It was also the first weekend which I didn’t have to go to work for any amount of time so I made the most of it. I wrote two chapters of my second novel and was very chuffed with them.

This morning I have organised myself a bit in terms of my blog and general laptoppy admin duties so I feel good about that. This week I finished a great book (Lucinda Riley is now a favorite author of mine).

However, there are many many times when I get overwhelmed by the little amount of time I have during Corona-life in which to write. There have been some weeks where I’ve hardly written at all. There have been weeks where I couldn’t remember the last time I sat down to read. It really gets me stressed.

Trying to juggle is a skill I am usually good at but have not yet mastered and giving myself a break from the pressure is something I mostly fail at. Yet I am understanding that it is only me who feels stressed after a week of no writing. Also, writing is a long process and one that often produces many drafts before quality work so bad days can certainly be accepted.

My blog and lock down…

I am going to change the arrangement of my blog slightly for now and aim for two posts per week. I was bogging myself down with content and figured that good content is better than lots of it.

Therefore, I will provide you good people with one post much like this one per week. An update, a personal experience, a ditty, a good story – whatever it may be. And I will then post a fictional snippet of things I am working on. A bit of lighter reading at the weekend. A short story for competition, a section of my novel, a random piece of prose for inspiration.

Thank you…

As always I thank you all for your time in visiting my blog. I really hope my work leaves you with a smile on your face.

H x

Categories
Adulthood Non-fiction Observations Stories Writing

In a crazy world where good things happen.

11.

At risk of sounding big headed, I’m proud. The more I hear about and witness the challenges many people are facing with the current situation of the world, the prouder I feel.

It’s kind of gone by me unnoticed how at risk myself and my colleagues are each day that we show up to work. I forget because of the sheer business of the place. I naturally wash my hands like I’ve never washed them before (listening to instructions given to us early on) and busy about, but until someone comes in with a full blown mask to remind me, I almost forget in my little bubble that Coronavirus exists. Well, kind of. You know what I mean…

I see people petrified to come in, people scared to work, people paranoid about the two metre rule, people getting very cross about other people’s actions.

While we’re taking it very seriously and doing everything we can for the safety of our staff and customers, every now and then I feel really proud.

An NHS worker was in with a badge on and my boss, who was serving her in the Post Office, thanked her for all she is doing. Her reply was “and thank you too.”

Says it all.

We are all in this together.

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.

9.

It was a Thursday. Nearing the end of another crazily manic week and my energy levels were rapidly decreasing.

I was starving. Like starving to the point where you forget you’re even hungry? Then all of a sudden it hits you like a wave and you fear you won’t be able to continue on. Obviously, I am being somewhat dramatic here, but still…you get the gist.

Recently my diet has been atrocious. It’s been a healthy (very unhealthy) mezze of copious amounts of alcohol. Usually a gin and tonic about 5pm, continuing through the evening. Onto the white wine and then finishing with red before crashing into an extraordinarily deep sleep.

I’m kidding, I don’t ONLY drink.

Other than the fantastic home cooked evening meal I am lucky enough to have cooked for me by my total professional chef of a friend (in my eyes, she should be), I mostly eat utter rubbish throughout the day. I even forget to eat occasionally which is kind of strange. Though I have had three salads which have been lovely.

Anyway, I am digressing.

Thursday.

I was contemplating what to have for my lunch/ emergency snack before falling over into a heap on the floor when customer followed customer, denying me of the time to make it.

A queue built up, three customers deep at which point I said to the lovely lady at the back of the queue that I would be with her in a moment.

She held a plate in her hand. On it was a large selection of bite sized portions of lemon drizzle cake. I love her. It was incredible.

I can still taste it now and I’m licking my lips.

Over the course of this lock down so far I reckon we’ve had around ten items baked for us. From coffee cake, to lemon drizzle, the best cookies you could dream of and various other mouthwatering treats.

We have the best customers. It’s lovely.

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