How I Saved by NOT having an Annual Season Ticket

I first published this blog a year or so ago and with the Southern Rail problems it seems appropriate to re-publish it. 

When I began commuting to the City of London I was encouraged to buy an Annual Season Ticket.  So that it wouldn’t be such a big expense the following year I opened a savings account and put the appropriate amount into it each month. 

THEN I had a brain storm.  I was only using the ticket 5 days a week.  I never used trains to go anywhere else.  I also realised that the ticket didn’t get used when I was holiday nor on bank holidays.  Working out how many days a year I used that ticket and dividing its cost by the number of days I found that it was more expensive than using a monthly/weekly season ticket.

For reasons that I won’t bore you with I ended up buying daily tickets – the amount saved over the cost of the Annual Season Ticket paid for a holiday!  Yes, with the advent of ticket machines I succumbed to the daily ticket and for those of you who say you don’t have time…..  Work it out!

Am I glad I no longer commute.  Soon it won’t be worth the expense of working, will it?

Antiques in the Attic - an Excerpt

Sarah's and Zelda's holiday in Torremolinos seems to be heading into trouble:

Later in the afternoon as they lay on sunbeds on the beach, Zelda told Sarah, "That guy is beginning to creep me out."

"Jason?"

"Yeah.  He's still hanging around.  I'm sure if there was another sunbed near us he'd be on it instead of at the bar."  She was referring to the bar across the road from the beach where the man was drinking a beer.

"I know what you mean.  D'you reckon he's stalking us?"

"Could be.  I know he's in the next door apartment but even when we've crept out and avoided passing that side of the building he still turns up."

"He does, doesn't he?  Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"  The women exchanged a look.  "No, that's too far fetched.  We're not in a spy film."

Zelda laughed.  "Shades of James Bond.  No, he looks more like an English version of the Pink Panther."

"Zel, I don't want to be a scaredy cat, but he does make me nervous.  I'd suggest we check our bags but if he's looking he'll see."

Her friend looked at her closely.  "You're serious, aren't you?"

"Wouldn't you be?  Actually, after all that's happened and the reason why we're here, you should be worried too."

"True.  Sorry, but an unexpected free holiday has gone to my head.  Look, I'll go to the bar and get a couple of beers.  And get chatting to him.  You check our bags."

...................

As well as being available on Amazon (via the link), this book is also available on Kobo and for other readers via Smashwords.

Lavender is Good for You

Not only does lavender smell delicious, it has many useful properties.  My mother taught me about it in two ways:  small sachets of the flower heads tucked into the drawers and hung on hangers to keep our clothes smelling fresh.  And to keep the moths away.  The other thing I learned was the drops of lavender on the pillow.  At the time I didn’t understand why. 

Whenever I have a cold or my sinuses are playing up a few drops of the oil on my pillow help with breathing.  The fumes do a magical job of clearing the nasal passages.

If I’m having difficulty getting to sleep because my brain won’t switch off, the relaxant in the oil on the pillow is a miracle.  As all writers know, when you’re in the middle of creation there are many nights when your brain is on the hamster wheel.

Got a headache?  A few drops on a tissue held to the nose and/or a few drops on the temples.  That reminds me – Eau de Cologne is also good on the temples.

Lavender oil is also a bug repellent and good to massage into the aches and pains.

Did you know that lavender is also good in cooking?  My favourites are lavender scones.  There are lots of recipes online as well as web sites explaining the healthful properties of lavender. [www.organicafacts.net]

Lucky you if you have a garden in which to grow the bushes!

Lavender beds at Ham House

Knitting is Great!

Following a week of jokes about a knitted kangaroo and some people denigrating knitters, I have decided that it is time to tell my story.

My mother taught me to knit when I was four years old.  There was good reason for that.  I discovered her bag of odds and ends of wool!  By the time she had untangled them there were hundreds of short lengths.  Out came a pair of knitting needles and my lesson began.  Two squares of garter stitch in all colours of the rainbow, plus some.  Mum stitched them together, leaving the appropriate holes – a tea cosy for a small teapot.

A couple of years later I was in trouble at school.  We (boys and girls) were to be taught to knit.  Garter stitch of course and an oblong shape.  To be folded twice to make a purse with a strap.  (Green and red cotton yarn, I think).  I suspect it was meant to last for several lessons, but my flashing needles…..

I must have saved my parents a fortune with my knitting.  All of my sweaters and cardigans plus some for them and my young sister.  And, of course, I had the best dressed dolls in the neighbourhood.

I have also used knitting as a means of supplementing my income.

There is another excellent reason for me to be thankful to knitting.  When I developed Repetitive Stress Injuries in my wrists/elbows/shoulders, the rheumatologist told me that my fingers hadn’t ‘frozen’ because of my knitting – and playing the piano.

Unfortunately, due to the RSI I cannot knit as much as I used to, but wool sweaters are definitely warmer than flimsy ones in man-made fibres.

One thing I’ve never really mastered is crochet.  I have tried it but find it a bit too fiddly.

I can remember a great-aunt who always seemed to be crocheting.  We little girls in the family were very lucky – she would make us very pretty and very fancy socks.  Were they ever painful to wear!  But, of course, whenever we went to visit we had to wear them. 

Whether you knit, sew or crochet, I’m sure you enjoy your handicrafts as much as me.

Too Old to Drive?

Whenever safe driving is being discussed this is one of the questions that crops up.  Too young?  Too old?  Rather like the question of whether men or women are the better drivers!

Having lived in Florida (sometimes called God's Waiting Room) for some years and seen people in their 90s still driving, I do know that there has to be a definite cut-off point.  For example, it was a 98-year-old who made an illegal left turn (equivalent of a right turn in the UK) across in front of me.  Fortunately I was slowing down expecting the lights to change.  I smashed his front passenger door but there weren't any personal injuries.  Just my lovely, lovely car written off due to a cracked chassis.  The Highway Patrol officer kept the other driver's licence!

I know people in their 80s who are still capable drivers but I would still question their doing long distance driving.  Let's be honest, the older we get the less stamina we have.

I am in my mid 70s, have loved driving and in my youth participated in motor sports but I have now given up driving.  A couple of years ago I became aware that my reactions had slowed down and my concentration sometimes wasn't all that it should be.  Then I found that every time I drove long distances my eyes started watering and blurred my vision.  Not good so no more long distance driving.

When I realised six months after the MOT that I had only driven 300 miles I decided I no longer need a car.  (The money saved goes a long way towards a holiday!).

I am fortunate enough to have a High Street with proper shops, can order heavy and bulky grocery items online and have them delivered and have a very reliable and frequent bus service.

I know that not everyone is that lucky, but for people living in or on the edge of towns there are taxis.  Work it out, if you only use your car once or twice a week to go to the supermarket a taxi is probably cheaper than running a car.

As my father (who had had open heart surgery a few years previously) had a stroke at the wheel of his car - fortunately whilst putting it in the garage - I am doubly aware of the dangers of us oldies driving.

To those of you of my age and older who don't agree with me, I am sorry, but we have all seen many accidents involving elderly drivers and followed some of them who were driving carefully at about 10-20 miles an hour.

I do think that we - responsible and experienced drivers - should know when to stop.

'Murder in the Monastery' by Lesley Cookman

If you haven't read any Libby Serjeant books you haven't lived!  These books are set in the Kent countryside - with forays to the coast for Libby to visit her psychic friend, Fran Wolfe.  There are some lovely atmospheric descriptions of the county.

As well as Fran there is Libby's Partner, Ben (who tries to keep her grounded), Peter (his cousin) and Harry, the chef, (who runs The Pink Geranium) and is Peter's Partner.

In this story Libby and Fran - plus friends - help their favourite detective CDI Ian Connell to solve the riddle of a reliquary and why someone was murdered in the monastery.

As in all the Libby Serjeant books there is theatre.  This time not at the Oast House Theatre but in the Monastery grounds plus preparations for a music hall at another theatre.

I found the book un-put-downable (good job I was on holiday!) so it is definitely worth 5 stars.

Waiting for more, Lesley!

Slow Progress

Since I've been publicizing the fact that I am writing a new 'Cleo Marjoribanks Mystery' people keep asking when will it be published?  Please be patient - it takes time to create a well written book.  And, of course, life tends to get in the way.

Since starting 'Poltergeists in the Parador' I've visited Cuba where I caught a virus and ate some contaminated food which meant that for two weeks after the holiday I was too ill to write or even think.  Then it was necessary to deal with publicizing 'Antiques in the Attic'.

Eventually I got back to Cleo, who was getting impatient.

The next interruption was the London Book Fair last week which meant a couple of days in London.  I had forgotten how large Earl's Court is and, unfortunately, there weren't enough places for a good sit down.  The result for me was that by midday on the first day my back (a damaged lower spine) and one foot (arthritis) were rebelling.  I had no choice but to return to my hotel so that I could put my feet up.  And decided not to go to the Book Fair the next day.

Note to whoever organizes the Authors' Lounge in future - make it at least twice as large.  It was divided into two, one part being a mini auditorium which became so overcrowded that it was standing room only.  The other half did have a few tables and chairs but it was more for companies to chat with authors rather than a comfortable space where authors and agents could network.

I saw several fellow authors with whom I wanted to touch base but the density of people made it impossible.  Sorry to have missed you!

Yes, alright, Cleo, I hear you and will get out my notebook and pen as soon as I can.  (For those of you not in the know, Cleo Marjoribanks has so far solved mysteries in Homicide in Hampshire and Dirty Deeds in Downdene.)