Tag: writing

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Adulthood Non-fiction Observations

2020: shall we all just scream for ice cream?

I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream!

A well known phrase which, while drinking the third beer on my Sunday last week I desperately wanted to perform. I wouldn’t have stopped at the end though. Oh no. I’d have screamed and screamed and screamed until they could hear me, er, somewhere over the pond which indicates a very loud scream.

Yes, disclaimer, I’m a little tipsy writing this one.

It’s all gong a bit mental hasn’t it. I just opened the BBC news app because I’d not had / possibly missed the latest few announcements on coronavirus so wanted to see whether I’m still legally allowed to leave my home.

Wish I hadn’t.

They’re on about the £10,000 fines for disobeying the rules. It’s just gone next level but is any of it working. Like I get staying 2 metres away etc works, but are the tactics on implementing these rules working?

Anyway.

Forth beer now and I’m happy.

Since writing this, the past week has seen further restrictions and now at work we are all in visors. If you told me this time last year I’d be going to work dressed as if I’m about to operate I’d have laughed in ya face! But it’s happening.

A N Y W A Y. . .

I’m writing this partly because I was on a roll while half cut, partly because I find myself kinda funny, partly as a diary. Like a wartime diary, but not. Far from it.

Just gotta keep on keeping on, eating loads and drinking plenty. Christmas all year round. Everyday. We’ve sung about it for years!

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

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Categories
Adulthood Non-fiction Observations

Some things I’ve learnt in the pandemic…

This year is so strange, isn’t it? When it all began I was so sure it’d be over by now. Instead, I’m chilling with my dog, listening to it all over the news and not allowed into my bedroom because my sister is working from home. This virtual existence is odd. A new job and she’s hardly met any of her colleagues…so so odd.

Trying my best to cling tightly onto the good bits, here are some lessons I’ve learnt during the pandemic.

1. How to complain

And I’m getting so good at it. Back when things were normal I was the worlds worst at complaints. I would cower and crumble within seconds and then retract my complaint and allow companies to walk all over me.

Fast forward to the ‘new normal’ and I’m shit hot at complaining. Everyone just blames COVID-19 and while I sympathise to a certain extent, there HAS to be a line. Poor service is poor service and I’m rocking the complaints!

2. How lucky I am

This is always a good thing to remember but this pandemic has highlighted it hugely for me. My life has been busy, work takes over my days and my dreams at night, I’m tired, haven’t done much at all and don’t wish to for fear I’d have to self isolate for 2 weeks which just isn’t feasible. However walking home the other day from an hour at my friends drinking wine and watching the dogs play, i just reminded myself of how truly lucky I am. It was raining. Pouring. But still I felt so so lucky.

3. I’m a sucker for sales

Let’s face it, I’m not spending money on anything else. I was the first to blow £50 with ease at the pub on my way home from another expense. This has stopped. At the beginning I was frequently bulk buying wine. This is still the case but I’m finding myself receiving parcels in the post and then a light switch goes off in my head and I vaguely remember ordering another thing I don’t need online (blame the wine).

4. Healthy life style living in countryside

I have 100% gained COVID pounds and the scales are becoming less liked daily. I don’t get it. At Christmas each year I work stupid hours at a rate of knots, still drink gallons of alcohol and always, ALWAYS lose half a stone or more. This year is different.

In attempt to help the situation I’m doing little things in walking a longer way to work to get the steps in, always making sure I exercise more on my day off and trying to (mostly) eat better. While I’m still drinking too much wine which is something I’m not yet ready to sacrifice, I do feel healthier for these tiny efforts. Each time I walk I feel thankful for the health benefits of living in the countryside and I take in that extra clean country air.

Categories
Adulthood Non-fiction Observations Writing

Less time, more grateful

There’s no doubt about it, this year has denied us all of time. I’m currently watching the news and feel it is never ending. France now on the quarantine list. The Netherlands. We’ve got to grip onto any positivity.

As lock down eases, I am certainly feeling more and more grateful for the time I have.

For about three months my life was like groundhog day. It still is to a certain extent, but I am now able to do a lot more (and not feel guilty about leaving the house) on my days off. Or should I say day and a half. Well, now we are opening longer on Saturdays it really is one day.

While I get tired and stressed about where I can fit in any writing, I am quickly realising that any free time I have is precious and I am constantly learning how to spend it better. I won’t feel guilty if my entire two hour break is spent with my nose in my book. Sometimes I manage to read, listen to a podcast and write a few words of my next book. On those days I am winning but sometimes one thing is enough and I will just relax and read. I even watched a glimpse of daytime TV the other day. No guilt.

On Sunday, while loving life and deeply appreciating time to myself and away from work, I still found myself fighting against a ticking clock. How? I had one plan to meet friends at 4pm. 4pm. I had hours to fill.

A deep sleep and a bit of reading in the early morning led to a speedy shower and rushing all the morning routine before leaving the house. Tesco time was limited as I had also planned a walk in the arvo. Lunch was deliciously fast and my beer was interrupted by being needed elsewhere. The walk was speedy (it was bloody hot) but lovely and drinks went on all night.

My night ended with the words “Harriet, you’ve got to be up in 5 hours!!!!” and onto the week ahead, speedy gonzales.

It is so true that this life is too fast paced and we cram so much in. It is also true that knowing we have less time leads to being more grateful, so grateful for the time that we have.

🙂

H x

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

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
Adulthood Non-fiction Observations Writing

A healthy amount of lone time…

(NB. I wrote this two weeks ago)

Today, so far, has been bloody lovely. My friends have gone away for the weekend and said I was welcome to their house. Having worked another exhausting week surrounded by people (lovely, but people) I took them up on this offer without a thought.

Sometimes you just need to clock off from life.

It is 1pm and I have spent every minute of this day alone. Apart from a couple of texts, fewer than my usual, I have been alone in every aspect of the word. When I lay there in bed this morning I thought how happy I felt to be able to enjoy this amount of lone time. Realising not everyone is this lucky due to either never getting a window of alone time to enjoy or fighting with their inner demons for each second of it, I count my blessings and realise how lucky I am.

It’s been the laziest morning I’ve had in a long while, but also one of the best.

I woke at 8am and gave myself a further thirty minutes sleeping time because it’s Sunday and I felt reckless. I then read The Wind In The Willows chapter 1 because an article in Writing Magazine suggested we all do this during lock down. A chapter a day, he said, will boost our spirits. It certainly lifted me up.

With my second cup of tea, having devoured a lemon and saltana danish (naughty), I continued reading another book I have on the go and one which I am LOVING. The Olive Tree by Lucinda Riley – check it out.

I rose. Showered. Popped to work to check the ice cream machine which had been put together by me yesterday hadn’t completely exploded everywhere. A mess I do not wish to have to deal with at 6am tomorrow morning. Warmed up some pasta and spotted that my bottle of white had just about enough left in it for a glass.

Don’t worry, it’s past 12pm.

I poured myself a glass and now I sit writing, listening to the wind, totally at peace and absoloutly loving this day!

A healthy amount of lone time and it felt so good.

(NB. I finished reading The Olive Tree yesterday and I would recommend. I also continue to read a chapter of The Wind In The Willows for a pick me up during these mad times.)

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

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fiction Stories Writing

My Publishing Journey: The Second Proof in lock down

It’s sunny, the birds are singing, The Beatles are playing Here Comes The Sun aloud into my garden via Alexa and it’s all very lovely. My dog has just brought me his brussel sprout toy to throw him and I’m wondering why I even look at other toys for him because sprout will always be best.

I’ve just had to dust my laptop to see the screen. No idea why this was the case as it’s been well used over the past week or so since I received my second proof via email.

Lock down life, as you’ll know if you’re a regular reader of mine, has been nothing short of frantic. Work has taken over and my writing has been pushed aside a little apart from the days where inspiration won’t allow me to escape writing it down.

This is why on receipt of the second proof of my manuscript I screamed a little inside with panic as to how I was ever going to complete a full read through.

My publishers have told me that this could well be the final proof before my book goes to print which is both alarming and extremely exciting. For this reason I must get it right.

So far so good in that the only edit I have made is a missing ‘he’ early on (much like my own life) and a slight structural change to the whole thing, but nothing major. Just an idea that came to me this time around and one which I think will improve the overall read. Quite good for almost half way in, I say!

I must admit that it was beginning to get to me the lack of time I was putting into my writing lately. All of my customers at work kept asking how it was going and I would repeat myself, losing a little optimism each time.

The excitment that came from the proof has turned these conversations around and I’m now discussing my passion for writing with those who didn’t know I was a writer and hypothetically planning my launch party with those who did (a bit premature I know).

My advice to anyone losing their mojo with any passion during these difficult times would be to stick at it. Make time for it. Talk about it. Don’t lose faith.

I am now highly enthusiastic and cannot wait to approve my proof to move onto the next stage of the publishing process.

I may even have a release date for you all soon! Watch this space…

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 Writing

In a year I would say

I have listened to so many podcasts lately. Mostly to pass the time but also to settle my mind away from work and the current world situation. Therefore, I can’t remember on which I heard this suggestion but it was of someone talking about writing themselves a letter, a year on.

I have thought about it a lot lately: What advice would I give?

In a year I would definitely say worry less.

This will probably continue for some years because I have been telling myself to worry less forever now. I worry about everything. From how I left a conversation, to basic manners, to taking something someone said and blowing it way out of proportion, to where I am going to be in ten years time. I’m a born worrier but some day I hope things will improve, with age…like wine!

“Don’t worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum.”

Next year I would probably say appreciate now.

Living in the moment is something we all fail at sometimes and something that is so healthy for the soul. We can’t change the future. Plans are good but never certain. I notice that when I do stop and appreciate the very moment I am living in a sense of relief and happiness always washes over me.

Don’t judge before you know.

Again, this is an important thing that I tell myself quite frequently and something I hope I get better at in time. It’ll be so much less of a headache for me. When I get wound up about somebody’s actions, it helps when I stop and think about how little I know about them. Even those you think you know best may be struggling with something that you don’t have a clue about. It’s better for everyone and easier on your blood pressure levels to appreciate this and therefore not to judge.

See the bigger picture.

Too often I get too involved with the insides of my head. Be it worry, anger, frustration, sadness – it escalates quickly. I’ll be at work and the tiniest thing will wind me up. It then doesn’t take long for this feeling to elevate. Yet if I take a moment to ground myself and notice the bigger things around me, the issues I’m facing never seem very big at all.

I will always say you’re doing ok.

Because we are, we always are. All of us. Even when you think you aren’t, you most definitely are. Another podcast I listened to recently was an interview with Alain de Botton. He gave his beliefs with regards to stoicism and stated that the worst thing that can happen to anybody ever is death and none of us seem to have trouble dying, the physical act of it, so we’re always going to be ok. Blunt but true.

Obviously I also have much more specific and personal pieces of advice I would give to myself so I may write that in a more private letter to myself. However, I thought what a good idea this activity is and I’m sure it’ll help many of you too if you try it? It’s an interesting concept.

Categories
Adulthood Non-fiction Observations Writing

I had a plan on a sunday

So in the UK the lock down is starting to be eased a little. All over the news there are various stories of the ways in which countries are easing things in a desperate attempt to get back to some sort of normality.

Whether I agree or disagree with each government’s approach (I honestly think it’s the hardest thing to control) we stuck by the rules and had a socially distanced barbecue planned for the weekend. This meant that it was my first Sunday with a plan in over two months. Wow.

As I showered at 1pm having done some productive things but mostly worked on my tan while reading my book in the garden, a thought came to me.

How was I rushing? How had life already come to being rushed again?

Throughout lock down my social media feeds have been swarmed with boredom but also people noticing things. Many have noticed how much time is in a day once you’re off the mad rush that is working life.

They have noticed nature, people, things about themselves that passed them by before. It has appeared as a wonderful revelation and one that most will want to stick in life post lock down. Yet, day one in getting back to some form of functioning society and I am struggling to find the time?!

Sunday is the one day a week that I get to experience lock down. For the past two months (though working a little on some) my Sunday’s have noticably been the slowest day of the week.

I have enjoyed slow mornings. Getting up slowly has been luxurious and enjoying a warm beverage before it has turned cold due to me becoming preoccupied with a matter of higher priority at work has been great. It really is the little things

It has been liberating to realise that I don’t know what time it is or where I have left my phone or having no limits to an acceptable time to relax with a large glass of red.

Even on mornings when I have crammed lots of writing and reading and planning in, feeling positive and productive, I will look at the clock to find it is only midday.

Truthfully, Sunday’s have become a beautifully happy blur like that feeling in between tipsy and drunk. You don’t quite know what’s going on and you’re gradually beginning to lose control, but it feels just lovely.

There I was on a Sunday with a plan. For the first time I had to rush. I had an hour to get ready and still struggled. My day suddenly felt exceedingly short.

I consider myself fairly organised and good with time management but there I was, failing. I’m not too sure how it happened, but maybe life post lock down won’t be slower.

Maybe modern life and the way we’ve shaped it can’t be slower. Or maybe we just need to find time amidst the chaos to give ourselves a mini lock down experience in stopping, appreciating, noticing and loving life.

[inserts hands in air emoji]

Hindsight is a wonderful thing, isn’t it?

Categories
fiction Stories Writing

A LOCK DOWN NOVEL: 6

(a snippet of)

Chapter 6, Erin

Orange. The entire room had a glowing tint of orange and when we walked in, I hadn’t ever thought of orange as a particularly warming colour, but my mind was more focussed upon mum’s behaviour in a public setting so most of my attention was on that. Saying that though, the orange wasn’t a bright and garish tone of orange like that of my hideously decorated bedroom from the age of seven to ten years old, but rather that of a golden glow just like the sun makes on a summers evening. Golden hour. The incense sticks in each corner of the small and cosy space added to the calming feeling as did the instructor asking us politely to remove our outdoor footwear and place them in the closet before entering the room. It made it feel like home.

I had never met the lady who was going to take our class before, but Eileen assured me that she was lovely and a very good yoga teacher because she used to take Eileen’s classes when she first moved here until Eileen stopped attending due to stress. In fact, the whole idea to go was down to Eileen, I usually avoided taking mum out in public nowadays and preferred to restrict our time together to when we were alone. Outside of her room but still alone. I like it that way and I can relax properly to enjoy the time that we had instead of constantly being on edge due to not knowing when she would lash out or do something crazy.

With our socks, shoes and bags safely stored in the closet we entered the room and each chose a mat next to one another – I was in the middle. Beside my mum were another two people and that made up our class which pleased me. I was nervous about doing yoga for the first time, so I was happy with it being a class of five.

We all sat cross legged on our mats which each had a block and a sort of miniature bean bag placed at one end and a human sized elastic band type piece of equipment next to them which I was very curious and slightly worried about being the least flexible person ever. However, I had promised Eileen that I would keep an open mind about it all, so I just went with it, ready to participate in all that the instructor told us to do.

Mum wasn’t making eye contact with the yoga teacher which made me realise that she hadn’t made eye contact with neither me nor Eileen since we picked her up. That wasn’t so unusual to us, it may be to the other people in the class though. Instead she looked awkwardly at the floor and picked at her hand which was a gesture she did when nervous. It was a gesture I didn’t mind though as I had to accept that she would be nervous when in public for a while and she wasn’t acting too crazy so to me it was ok for her to be that way.