tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-530882465272849642024-02-20T13:40:57.056-08:00Jean's Journalabout writing, getting published, mental health topics, and 'any other business'.Jeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03834219386682067062noreply@blogger.comBlogger88125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53088246527284964.post-21234482106498074592012-06-30T11:26:00.000-07:002012-06-30T11:26:27.062-07:00My New WebsiteI've set up a new website. Please visit me at:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.jeandavisonwriter.wordpress.com/">www.jeandavisonwriter.wordpress.com</a><br />
<br />
<br />Jeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03834219386682067062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53088246527284964.post-52617391120636239432012-01-05T10:11:00.000-08:002012-01-05T10:28:56.668-08:00New Year 2012<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal">Happy New Year! I’ve had a quiet Christmas, as usual, with my husband coming out with his well-worn comment of ‘I’m not a Christmas person.’ (Well, blow me, Ian. I thought you were!). I don’t like Christmas either, though I suppose what I don’t like about it is the phoney baloney commercialism. Really I shouldn’t complain. I’m fortunate enough to have a loved one to spend Christmas with, enough food and a warm bed; these are things which many people don’t have.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">We went to visit Ian’s mum in her care home on Christmas Day. It’s so sad to see people whose bodies have outlived their minds or whose minds are trapped inside failing bodies. But I love the way a feisty ninety-year-old shouts ‘Up the Owls!’ every time Ian walks in because she knows Ian supports the Blades. He teases her by standing in front of her sporting his Blades T-shirt, and a lot of friendly bantering goes on between them. It’s interesting to get chatting to the residents and see the person they once were who is still somewhere inside. They each have their stories to tell. One frail old woman told us she used to be a contortionist. She took delight in showing us photos of her aged about 18 lying on her stomach with her legs over her head. Jeez! How did she manage to untangle herself?<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I spent much of Christmas and New Year reading on my Kindle (Yes, I at last succumbed and bought a Kindle). I love being able to instantly download books, but I must take care not to spend a fortune with the all too easy One-Click method. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> I enjoyed reading Jeanette Winterson’s autobiography, ‘Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?’, and seeing how this factual account of her life compares with the fictional account in ‘Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit’. I’m fascinated with the struggles many of us women have had, to get to where we are today, and the ways in which we can tell our stories.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Another good book I’ve just finished is ‘Wasted’ by Nicola Morgan. It is a Young Adult novel but also of interest to adults; a successful crossover novel. Jack is an endearing character who tosses a coin to make decisions. The novel explores how the seemingly small and random events from choices we make can change our whole life. Or do we only think we can choose? Do we have free will? Jack is the leader of a band called Schrödinger’s Cat, the title of which brings up for me complicated thoughts about quantum physics and the nature of reality. I’ve been hung up before on this sort of thing. Is what we perceive as external reality constructed in our minds? This thought has me wandering around wondering if the people I see around me are really each a separate existence or have I sort of dreamed them up? I asked Ian how he knows that I’m really here and not just a figment of his imagination. He says there’s no way that even his imagination could conjure up anything like me (I don’t know if this is a compliment or insult). Anyway, it’s all too confusing to think about further and I’d better quit it before curiosity kills the cat (was it Schrödinger’s cat it killed?).</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’ve only drunk alcohol once during these hols, but that once was enough to make me reel off four New Year’s Resolutions and rashly put them up on facebook for all to see. I should have waited until I was nearly sober and just picked ONE. No, I should have waited until I was fully sober and not made any, since I’m hopeless at keeping the flippin things. I resolved to do more writing, eat less junky food, get more exercise and stop reading before 2am when I’ve to get up early. I haven’t done much writing yet but I’m doing some now (if blog writing counts). So far I have been managing to do at least half-an-hour of brisk walking every day. The other two don’t count yet because I haven’t needed to get up early (will do tomorrow when I go back to work) and it wouldn’t be right, would it, not to stuff myself with the chocolates people have kindly given me as presents?</p><p class="MsoNormal">Well, enough of my ramblings. What I'm doing now is putting off making a start on filling in my tax return form, a task I hate.<br /></p> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} </style> <![endif]-->Jeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03834219386682067062noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53088246527284964.post-85150259999432193712011-11-05T08:50:00.000-07:002011-11-05T09:19:52.212-07:00Ignorance is blissForty years ago in my other life I was written off as suffering from chronic schizophrenia. Like many people who eventually receive a mental illness diagnosis, I'd had years of abuse before entering the psychiatric system where I got more of the same. I was subdued into silence, my mind in an electro-shocked and heavily drugged torpor. Being labelled a chronic schizophrenic, especially back then, meant being given no hope of ever living a full, productive life. It meant being expected to remain on debilitating medication for life. It meant forgetting the dreams and aspirations you once had, losing your previous identity and being given a new and extremely limiting one.<br /><br />But perhaps I was fortunate in that I didn't know my diagnosis. I didn't find it out until I read my case notes long after I'd jumped out of the net and after many years of being medication-free and holding down a responsible job.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I didn't know</span> during years of happy marriage, and while sharing many precious times with close friends, that I had an<span style="font-style: italic;"> incurable illness</span> which brings about social isolation.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I didn't know</span> when I returned to study and got a first-class degree that I'd got an <span style="font-style: italic;">irreversible brain disease </span>leading to<span style="font-style: italic;"> severe cognitive deterioration.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I didn't know</span> I wasn't supposed to achieve all that I had done by then.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I didn't know</span>, until I looked it up in a psychiatric textbook, that people with the rare form of schizophrenia I'd been diagnosed with, are likely to end up as vagrants (well, I suppose there's still time for that. I'd better not push my luck too much!)<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I didn't know</span> that I couldn't possibly have gone on to live the full, happy, productive life that I was actually living by then.<br /><br />So I suppose my journey to 'recovery' (whatever the word 'recovery' means) had been a bit like the flight of the bumble bee in a verse I remember reading once (I'm afraid I can't acknowledge the author or seek copyright permission to reproduce it because I don't know who wrote it):<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;">The scientists have ample proof<br />Proof no-one can deny<br />That by accepted theories well<br />The bumble bee can't fly.<br />With fat and rounded fuselage<br />With such small, fragile wings<br />He cannot even leave the ground<br />Bees are but crawling things.<br />And though these facts may all be true<br />And proved by people wise<br />The bumble bee, not knowing this<br />Just goes ahead - and flies.<br /></div><br />Well, interpret that as you will.Jeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03834219386682067062noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53088246527284964.post-4768462417720749432011-09-29T09:31:00.000-07:002011-09-29T09:48:00.324-07:00Me againRecent health problems have become much less worrying. My second gynaecological surgery went well and the investigations showed up no serious concerns. It looks like I'm going to be sticking around for longer, which is great. I'm enjoying life and there's still so much I want to do.<br /><br />Now that summer has ended for the year, I thought I'd take advantage of this unexpected second debut of sunshine and head for the coast. We had a lovely day in Scarborough yesterday. I love being near the sea. I wonder what it would be like to live on the coast. Perhaps not as good as it sounds because I'd probably take it for granted and appreciate it less.<br /><br />Today I've been wandering the streets looking at gardens. I mean noseying at the ordinary gardens of ordinary people. I wanted to get some ideas of what to do with ours. We only have a small garden and it's badly in need of a complete makeover.<br /><br />I arrived back home to several emails and messages on the answerphone. One from my speakers club - do I want to take part in a speech competition? Erm.. no, not really, I don't think I do. One from work about the training classes for voluntary workers that I help to run, which start this Saturday. One about a date for a session I'll be doing for social workers at Bradford University (hey, they must have liked what I did last year as I've been invited to do another). One giving details of the book chosen for the next reading club. One from a friend about meeting for lunch ...<br /><br />I'm going to stop moaning about being busy. It's so nice to be busy again with things I enjoy doing.Jeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03834219386682067062noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53088246527284964.post-73985966747096728812011-08-31T04:01:00.000-07:002011-08-31T09:02:06.562-07:00One on OneI was on live radio yesterday on Liz Green's hour-long 'One on One' programme on BBC Radio Leeds. You can listen to it<a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p00jrd6k"> here</a> (available for the next six days).
<br />
<br />Being on live radio is kinda scary. On the way to the studio I kept thinking, what if right in the middle of it I want to go to the loo, have a panic attack, feel sick, get one of these optical migraines I keep getting, not know what to say or how best to say it ...
<br />
<br />Ian was listening in the waiting room. When I dedicated 'True Love Ways' to him he came and blew a kiss to me through the glass door of the studio where I was being interviewed. Daft bugger! It distracted me momentarily and made me laugh.
<br />
<br />Anyway, I did my best, and that's all anyone can do. Actually it turned out to be an interesting and (reasonably) enjoyable experience. But I guess I'll always find writing easier than talking.
<br />Jeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03834219386682067062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53088246527284964.post-25398672682476367052011-07-26T07:57:00.000-07:002011-07-26T08:02:01.529-07:00Jean is not a happy bunny<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal">While still in the process of deciding where to go with this blog (don’t tell me!), please allow me to indulge this time in airing my moans.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> My GP referred me to a gynaecologist for urgent investigation. First, there were the usual kinds of admin problems. I received an appointment letter on the day, and after the time, that I should have been there. I phoned the receptionist who fitted me into a clinic a couple of days later under the care of someone else. I was seen by a registrar, and apparently some of my case notes were missing. She immediately sent me to the pre-op clinic. I arrived home to find a letter asking me to attend the appointment I had just attended, saying my previous appointment had been changed. I was put on hospital standby for an investigative operation and went in on Monday. Just before my admission, I received a letter from my GP saying she had heard from the gynaecologist that I had not attended for my appointment at his clinic. Once in hospital, nobody knew which consultant I was supposed to be under (and neither do I). </p> <p class="MsoNormal">A few days earlier at my pre-op med, the nurse put the blood pressure monitor cuff on my arm and then she said ‘We’ll do the next test at the same time.’ The pre-hospital tests now include screening to ensure you’re not a carrier of MRSA. Anyway, she started pushing a swab on the end of long stick up my nose (at the same time as the BP cuff on my arm was tightening!). As it happened, the swab didn’t have to go far up my nostril but I didn’t know that at first. I just saw the long stick and thought ‘OMG!’ Needless to say she was then concerned that my BP was too high! (Fortunately, the second reading was fine).</p> <p class="MsoNormal">To cut a long story short, the worst of it is that after bravely (or not) facing my fear of doctors, hospitals, general anaesthetics and medical procedures, I’ve got nowhere. I came round from the anaesthetic to be told that they hadn’t been able to go ahead with the procedure due to a complication. They’re attempts were bringing too great a risk of perforating my organs so they had to stop. Not their fault this time, I know, but I wonder if my body holds memories of past damaging treatments and has found a way of saying, ‘Leave me alone, you sods! Keep out!’</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Yes, I know I shouldn’t moan when others are much worse off than me and I’ve no right to feel sorry for myself and blah, blah, blah. So now I will go and cheer myself up with a big piece of chocolate cake. Oh, I can’t, can I? It still hurts badly when I swallow, due to the tube they inserted.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p>Jeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03834219386682067062noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53088246527284964.post-42712752533907099682011-07-02T01:56:00.000-07:002011-07-02T02:01:12.328-07:00THINKING ABOUT BLOGGING<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">I’m thinking about blogging. That’s the trouble though. It’s easier to spend more time thinking about things than actually doing.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;"> I started this blog back in September 2008, bursting to tell anyone who might listen that I’d at last got a publisher for ‘The Dark Threads’. I was, of course, very young then (well, only fifty-something) and my youthful enthusiasm knew no bounds. I proudly announced that this was my first book (where is the next?) and that I would chart my journey towards publication in this blog.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;"> Okay, been there, done that and got the clichéd old T-shirt. After publication in August 2009, what then? Of one thing I was sure. My blog should continue. Getting a book published doesn’t end on publication day. It was scary but wonderful having the opportunity to speak out about a subject close to my heart while attempting to publicise my book. Me on radio! Me on TV! Me giving talks! Me winning a cup for (I still can’t believe this) Public Speaking! </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;"> But then . . .<span style=""> </span>Somehow I was slipping into a ‘So what?’ kind of blogging. I suppose the problem was in trying to decide what to blog about now that I’d done what I set out to do in my profile. Perhaps it was time to wrap up the blog before it degenerated further into the ‘Had a boiled egg for breakfast’ postings. Oh, I loved writing about my treadmill and the dilemma of should I or shouldn’t I exercise with a cold. Fascinating! Or not. Pack it in, Jean, before you get like those old, pot-bellied pop stars who don’t know when to shut up, or those grumpy old women who rant about things like people getting their name wrong.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;"> Perhaps I could start another blog about working on my novel. But I don’t need to talk about that. I just need to </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">GET</span><span style="font-family: Arial;"> ON WITH IT. Okay, then, perhaps it definitely is time to finish this blog and bow out gracefully.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;"> No! I want to continue with it.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;"> So now I’ve got some serious thinking to do. I need to sort out what kind of things to write about here. What exactly is the theme of this blog to be now? Where is it going? Where am I going? I’ll get back to blogging when I’ve figured this out.</span></p>Jeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03834219386682067062noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53088246527284964.post-5924435414481769442011-05-01T05:04:00.000-07:002011-05-01T05:23:51.241-07:00Flat-pack furnitureMy next blog posting will appear soon. Meanwhile, here is something my husband wrote recently. He spent three wasted hours before reaching his verdict. I thought I'd include Ian's piece here as I suspect many of us can identify with it.<br /><br /><br />i) flat-pack tv stand.<br /><br />ii) flat-pack tv stand almost fully assembled.<br /><br />iii) flat-pack tv stand contains one part where 3x screw holes are MUCH too tight to receive the corresponding very long screws.<br /><br />iv) flat-pack tv stand contains one part where 3x very long screws are stuck, only part way inserted, with the special screwdriver worn + useless.<br /><br />v) flat-pack tv stand in bin.<br /><br />vi) Verdict: f*** flat-pack furniture.Jeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03834219386682067062noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53088246527284964.post-34283850876802403642011-04-20T07:29:00.000-07:002011-04-20T07:34:40.518-07:00What's in a Name?<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Arial;">Please note, my name is </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Arial;">Jean <b style="">Davison</b></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Arial;">.<span style=""> </span><b style="">Not</b> Davi<b style="">d</b>son.<span style=""> </span>Why do so many people want to put that ‘d’ in it? My name is <b style="">Davison. Davison. Davison. <span style=""> </span></b>Does it matter? I used to wonder why my then husband-to-be got annoyed over such a trivial thing. But soon after becoming a Davison myself, I understood.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Arial;">Yes, it <b style="">does</b> matter. It mattered when the GP’s receptionist kept telling me the test result I was anxiously waiting for hadn’t yet arrived. She could have put me out of my misery weeks earlier if she hadn’t been looking up ‘Davidson’ on the computer. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Arial;">It matters with book publicity when my book ‘The Dark Threads’ is advertised as ‘by Jean Davidson’ and, even worse, an ebook version came out in the name of ‘Davidson’.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Arial;">It mattered when I once went on a customer relations course at work where the course leader stressed the importance of getting people’s names correct. At last, someone understood that it mattered. After the course, I received an impressive looking certificate, and on it in fancy lettering, it said … Jean Davidson.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Arial;">For heaven’s sake! My name is <b style="">Davison. Davison. Davison.</b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Arial;">Well, now I’ve got that out of my system, let’s take a brief look at the history behind surnames. Did you know that in </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Arial;">England</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Arial;"> alone there are around 45,000 different surnames, each with a historical source? Before the Norman Conquest of Britain, when communities were small, each person just had a single name. Gradually further identification was needed, so a person might be called Joseph the Butcher, Peter the short or John son of David (or maybe he was son of Davy).</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Arial;">By 1400 most English families were using hereditary surnames, often based on occupations, nicknames, places and father’s names. This meant that these surnames stuck in future generations when the original source no longer applied to a person. So now we get vegetarians with the surname of Butcher, bad people called Good, sweet-tempered people called <b style="">Moody</b> and miserable sods called <b style="">Jolley. </b>Of course, some people <b style="">do</b> fit their names. A former colleague of mine with the surname of Drinkall seemed to feel a need to live up to this at office parties.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Arial;">Does Professor Wiseman fit his name, I wonder? The results of a survey he conducted indicated that we make assumptions about someone’s lifestyle and character based simply on their first name. He gave 7,000 volunteers a list of 20 male and 20 female names and found there was shared agreement on who they imagined would be the most or least attractive. Ann and George were considered the least attractive. Sophie and Ryan were considered the most attractive. Myself I doubt that this research stands up to much scrutiny (sorry, Professor Wiseman). The name ‘Ryan’ in my mind will always be linked with a snotty-nosed kid at primary school. I’ve never liked that name since.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Arial;">The same name can sound different depending on where we put the emphasis. I became interested in this as a child, listening to mothers standing on their doorsteps calling out the names of their children. This was the fifties when even very young children roamed the streets freely. My friend Andrew’s mum used to call <b style="">‘Ann – drew’</b>, which I thought sounded like a sneeze. And it was a silly way to say it anyway because it caused all the Ann’s in the area to come first.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Arial;">Sometimes people need to change a name that just doesn’t sound right for a particular occupation or image. Imagine Cliff Richard sticking to the somewhat boring sounding name of Harry Webb? Or a young, rebellious Bob Dylan being announced as Robert Zimmerman.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Arial;">Some people get really narked if you get their name wrong. I know of a Mr O’Nions who turns beetroot when someone calls him Mr Onions. And a Mrs Portray whose feathers get rustled if she’s called Mrs Poultry. I can’t see what the fuss is about. I mean, why can’t they just develop a sense of humour?</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Arial;">Oh, yes. Let me remind you. My name is Davison, not Davidson. It’s <b style="">Davison. Davison. Davison.</b></span></p>Jeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03834219386682067062noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53088246527284964.post-37275225222037669412011-04-10T04:38:00.000-07:002011-04-10T04:48:00.870-07:00Did You Know???Did you know that using a treadmill can be educational? To offset boredom during an hour's treadmilling session I've found it necessary to listen to anything that comes on the radio during that time. It's amazing what fascinating snippets of knowledge you can pick up from doing that.<br /><br />Did you know that around 456BC a Greek dramatist died when an eagle dropped a tortoise on his bald head? Or that in 1718 the Irish Parliament passed the Coffee Adulteration Act by which it was forbidden (among other things) to attempt to pass off sheep dung as coffee beans? To get more up to date, did you know that copper door handles kill germs whereas the little buggers thrive on those made of aluminium or stainless steel? This must mean that when I wash my hands before making sandwiches in the kitchen and then bring the food through into another room to eat, I'm eating... No, let's not go there.<br /><br />Anyway, what's all this got to do with getting on with writing my novel? Absolutely nothing. Unless I grab the idea of having the villain of the piece become a victim of a falling tortoise.Jeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03834219386682067062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53088246527284964.post-62054685646373611212011-03-27T06:02:00.000-07:002011-03-27T06:20:08.476-07:00Authors North Spring MeetingI must stop taking these blog holidays and resume my self-appointed job of cluttering up the internet.<br /><br />I'm fired up now with all things to do with writing and publishing, after going to the Authors North SOA Spring Meeting at Hull yesterday. I met some lovely people there and we had lots of interesting discussion.<br /><br />The meeting was held at the <a href="http://www.hullhistorycentre.org.uk">Hull History Centre.</a> In the morning we had a fascinating talk by Judy Burg, an archivist who then split us into two groups to take us on a tour around the archives. The papers stored there are so well looked after with sensitive sensors to keep the temperature exactly to their liking. The rows upon rows of shelves stacked with boxes, and the whole atmosphere of the place, makes you feel as if you're inside a film set. It all seemed surreal. Among the thousands of archived material, they have original documents of Sylvia Plath. Also of much interest to me were the poems of Stevie Smith written when her work was still in progress, along with her quirky illustrations. Spread out on a table for us to see and touch were, among a wealth of other interesting material, the notebooks of Philip Larkin.<br /><br />After lunch it was the Society of Authors Roadshaw. Ebooks, Kindle, Amazon, the Google Settlement, tax issues, copyright and the current state of publishing were discussed in a lively questions and answers session. All too soon we were finishing our coffee and polishing off the last remnants of the delicious banana & carrot cake and it was time to go.<br /><br />The SOA staff and the members who attended were warm and friendly, great sense of humour and all so passionate about writing. I hope to keep in touch via the internet until it's time to meet again at the next meeting in Autumn.Jeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03834219386682067062noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53088246527284964.post-33340682312598800482011-01-30T07:33:00.000-08:002011-01-30T07:43:52.727-08:00Decision TimeShould I? Shouldn't I? Should I? Shouldn't I? (go on the treadmill when I've got a stinking cold)? No, of course not. Surely this calls for a day of pampering myself. Stay in, laze about, drink orange juice, read a bit, have a sleep . . . Or am I a wimp?<br /><br />Seeking confirmation of my hypothesis that 'Exercising with a cold is unsafe' I looked it up on several Internet sites. Oh dear, the general consensus of expert (well what do they know?) opinion seems to be it's okay to do mild to moderate exercise if your cold is 'above your neck'. So just a runny nose, congestion and sneezing shouldn't be used as an excuse. Yes, well... I expect those who wrote this are younger and fitter than I am. They'd probably say don't let not being able to breathe make you think you've got a good excuse for not trying to exercise.<br /><br />Well, here I am in my tracksuit bottoms and trainers, wondering what I should do. If I don't sneeze again in the next five - ten - fifteen (or perhaps I'll make it twenty) minutes, then I will do it.<br /><br />But why does the name Jim Fix keep coming to my mind? Who was he?Jeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03834219386682067062noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53088246527284964.post-1675781286699943092011-01-03T16:13:00.001-08:002011-01-03T16:43:12.912-08:00Swear Box<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjugpEj0QmgzmIUyXShVdHWgEAo1sN2Du25XfKqx3PjvGgM-beF-X-UFxZYerk74nXfLBrhr6WBxrUI7mejiRXl6Dwasrme4fKanQx4tVNDK4pS5RARkxPc-AnVg43OM7fGP6RksA8WybI/s1600/piggy.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 282px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjugpEj0QmgzmIUyXShVdHWgEAo1sN2Du25XfKqx3PjvGgM-beF-X-UFxZYerk74nXfLBrhr6WBxrUI7mejiRXl6Dwasrme4fKanQx4tVNDK4pS5RARkxPc-AnVg43OM7fGP6RksA8WybI/s320/piggy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558117991114550882" border="0" /></a>A sweet old lady in her nineties, whom Ian regularly visits, gave him this pink piggy money box as a present. About an hour ago he announced that he will use it as a swear box. Each time he swears he has to put a pound in it. When full, the money will go to a charity (which one is still to be decided).<br /><br />It wasn't long before the first pound went inside. I was questioning him about something I disagreed with, and he told me to stop asking b... stupid questions. The second pound had to go in not long after the first. He was asleep on the sofa and I looked up my book ranking on Amazon. 'Ooh, it's sold one today!' I yelled, jolting him into the land of the living and out he came with another swear word.<br /><br />If he carries on swearing at this rate it will soon be full. He says I'm purposely antagonising him into swearing. (No, I'm not, says I innocently. Come on, Ian, you can't blame me. You're not a puppet.) I've decided not to join him in this particular fund raising for charity venture. It's not that I swear a lot normally. Actually I swear very little, but if I start thinking about it and trying not to, then I'm sure the words will just come out.<br /><br />So I'll leave this one to him and see how he gets on. Watch this space.Jeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03834219386682067062noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53088246527284964.post-64396351430722354912010-12-30T08:54:00.000-08:002010-12-30T09:09:10.526-08:00FitnessWe've just been out and done it. Not only talked about it but done it. Ordered a treadmill to put in the conservatory. So in future when I go into the conservatory alone, with my sixties and seventies songs to reminisce to, instead of sitting on my fat backside and drinking too many G & Ts, I can be doing something positive and healthy (ooh, where's my halo?). No excuses now for not doing at least a bit of exercise every day whatever the weather.<br /><br />This is a short posting as I'm in a rush now. We're going out to see some friends for mulled wine and mince pies.<br /><br />Normal blog service will be resumed as soon as possible.Jeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03834219386682067062noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53088246527284964.post-72715411014328427572010-12-16T08:54:00.000-08:002010-12-16T09:07:52.021-08:00Busy, busy, busyBusy, busy, busy. And now the manuscript of my novel is almost completed. Time soon to celebrate finishing it. But I think I might have a problem. It's a novel for adults with a teenage protagonist. Googling just brings up YA for novels with teenage protagonists. Is it that adults tend to want adult main characters, and only teenagers want teenagers? Can't a novel with (dare I use the phrase?) 'coming-of-age' themes be of interest to adults and not be aimed at the Young Adult market?<br /><br />I suppose it's a bit late for me to be wondering about this now. Why didn't I think about 'The Market' before I started writing it? Well, I did. I felt I was writing for adults but through the eyes of a teenager. Was I naive?Jeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03834219386682067062noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53088246527284964.post-41157520923979231032010-11-23T05:47:00.001-08:002010-11-23T05:58:38.284-08:00Go for it!I seem to have embarked on a new career as a speaker. Wot? Moi! No sooner have I finishing giving a talk I've to start preparing another. At each talk there is usually one person in the audience who asks me afterwards if I will do a talk at their organisation. I must be doing something right. Great! I'm not saying this to brag. It's just that I've had so much trouble with shyness in the past that I can't help feeling flushed with pleasure each time I manage to come over as a competent and confident speaker.<br /><br />It makes me wonder how many other things I've been held back from attempting in the past with thinking 'I can't do it. I'm simply not the kind of person who can do...' I suppose that's not a bad thing if it's informed by a heavy dose of realistic self-awareness. I mean, if I'd had the confidence to get up onto a stage and sing, it doesn't mean I should have done that. I really can't sing a note in tune. X-factor here I come - I think not! But, singing apart, perhaps there's a lot of things that maybe, just maybe, I could have done. If only I'd realised that years ago!Jeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03834219386682067062noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53088246527284964.post-85754136543853794172010-10-26T14:31:00.001-07:002010-10-26T14:40:48.378-07:00TwitterI held out against it for so long. How can I find time to Twitter when I can't find time to write? Facebook is bad enough, the way it sucks me in and has me messing about on it when I've too much to do. So, no, of course I'm not going to sign up for Twitter. 'Oh yes you are,' said the pantomime baddie. Oh no I'm not.<br /><br />But . . . I got curious. Was I missing out on something? I found some really helpful postings about Twitter in <a href="http://www.helpineedapublisher.blogspot.com">Nicola Morgan's blog</a> archive. I printed out her instructions on how to get started - purely out of interest of course. Well, I suppose I could open an account just to try it, couldn't I? That was it. Hooked.<br /><br />I'm just lurking there now. I'm not going to start spending too much time up that tree. I'm going to be, oh, so sensible. Until I have made satisfactory progress with my novel you won't hear a tweet out of me. And I'll wait until I've halved my 'To Do' list. Only then will I deserve to give myself a tweet (okay, that last joke is badly in need of a 'corn' plaster).Jeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03834219386682067062noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53088246527284964.post-66289381893008379662010-10-16T10:35:00.000-07:002010-10-16T10:46:34.746-07:00O be joyful at the Ilkley Literature Festival<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} </style> <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:shapedefaults ext="edit" spidmax="1026"> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:shapelayout ext="edit"> <o:idmap ext="edit" data="1"> </o:shapelayout></xml><![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal">As usual, the Ilkley Literature Festival has been full of sparkling events. I was thrilled to be able to participate this year. We had our event last night at the Ilkley Playhouse, ‘we’ being myself and the Leeds Survivors Poetry Group. I did a talk and readings from <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Dark-Threads-Jean-Davison/dp/1906373590">‘The Dark Threads’</a> for the first half of the session, and then five members of the poetry group read out two of their poems in turn. Ian my husband was, as always, a brilliant support and I love him lots. He sat at the back of the theatre, manning the bookstall.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">My book is obviously about a difficult and painful time in my life. What happened to me, and to many others, was wrong. I wanted to write a serious book with a serious message, and I believe I have done. However, without downplaying this, it seemed appropriate on this occasion to focus mainly on humour and hope. Most of the extracts I chose showed the courage and strengths of the patients I used to know, many of whom had a great sense of humour despite the often immense difficulties in their lives.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I must have changed a lot because I didn’t feel scared to death as I stood on the stage behind a lectern with a microphone. I’m not used to a microphone and it was interesting to do my parrot impersonation into it (not good for my throat though – think I need a Strepsil).</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Here’s an extract from ‘The Dark Threads’ in fondest memory of Popsy:</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Even the hospital parrot had a sense of humour. In part of the grounds surrounding the hospital there was a small aviary which housed, among other birds, Popsy the parrot whose party piece was to say ‘O be joyful’ to the watching groups of depressed patients.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">‘O be joyful,’ Popsy said as Georgina stuck her face near the mesh to get a closer look.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">‘Don’t you “O be joyful” me,’ Georgina said crossly.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">‘O be joyful. O be joyful. O be joyful,’ the parrot squawked, running backwards and forwards along its perch.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">‘You horrible creature. I’ll wring your neck if you don’t shut up,’ Georgina said, sounding as if she meant it, but then she turned to me with a smile. ‘Oh, listen to me arguing with a bloody parrot. I’m so miserable and bad-tempered today, I don’t know what to do.’</p> <p class="MsoNormal">‘What to do? What to do? O be joyful,’ the parrot suggested.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p>Jeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03834219386682067062noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53088246527284964.post-19634021723474890252010-10-10T06:09:00.000-07:002010-10-10T06:59:43.397-07:00Learning to talkI did my presentation to a class of mental health professionals at Bradford University. I actually enjoyed doing it (thanks to the confidence I've gained at my <a href="http://www.the-asc.org.uk/">ASC speakers club</a>). My uni talk was about how the mental health services used to be in the sixties and seventies, highlighting many of the issues which are still relevant. We discussed what needs to be done differently to prevent people today having similar bad experiences of the system to those that I, and many others, have had.<br /><br />The following day Professor Phil Thomas, one of the founders of Critical Psychiatry, came to Bradford University to do a presentation, and I was invited to that. I couldn't find anything to argue with him about. He was lovely. After the session I plucked up courage to give him one of my book promo cards. He said he'll get it. I hope he does.<br /><br />Next thing coming up on the book front is this Friday when, along with some members of the Leeds Survivors Poetry Group, I'll be doing a reading at the <a href="http://www.ilkleyliteraturefestival.org.uk/2010/10/15/the-dark-threads-and-footprints-in-the-snow/">Ilkley Literature Festival</a>.<br /><br />A few weeks after the Ilkley festival, I've been invited to be Guest Speaker at the AGM of a Mental Health Advocacy Group. I'm delighted that over a year after 'The Dark Threads' was published I'm still getting spin offs. I do hope that at least in some small way I'm helping to right some wrongs by speaking out.<br /><br />But I must-must-must get on with writing my novel.Jeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03834219386682067062noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53088246527284964.post-33308869707725033402010-10-08T03:11:00.000-07:002010-10-08T03:32:08.171-07:00Me againThis can't be right. It can't be that I haven't posted since 14th August. I knew I'd neglected my blog for a while but I'd honestly no idea it was for so long. Does anyone care? I don't know, but I do. No point having a blog if I'm not going to keep up with it. I've been busy (really I have) but not with things that would make interesting blog reading. But good writers don't wait for something madly interesting to happen to inspire them. They just write and make whatever they write interesting through the strengths of their writing. So why can't I? (don't answer that, it's a rhetorical question).<br /><br />Anyway, to get me going with my blog again, I decided to just sign in and, well, get going. I'm tapping away on the keyboard just letting my rambling thoughts pour onto the page. This isn't the way to make riveting reading, I know, but at least it's getting me going again. I don't want this blog to degenerate into the character of the Tony Hancock's sketch who tried to keep a diary and said things like 'Today I had a boiled egg for breakfast'. But, on the other hand, if I just wait for pearls of wisdom before I write anything, I might as well clock off and go to bed.<br /><br />The room has just filled with the sound of barking dogs (my new doorbell tone) so I'd better see what's up. I might just have been about to write something wonderful. But, like Coleridge getting interrupted by the 'man from Porlock', the world will never know. I'll be back soon.Jeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03834219386682067062noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53088246527284964.post-73849825493715566822010-08-14T05:36:00.000-07:002010-08-19T09:10:50.699-07:00Saying NO and feeling guiltyI've figured out why I've been suffering from back pain lately. It's because I forgot my age and fitness level last week when playing with my six-year-old great-niece (OMG! 'Great' makes me feel so old!). We enjoyed pulling each other about and playing at see-saws. It was great fun at the time.<br /><br />I must do something about keeping fit since I gave up my gym membership over a year ago. Nah, I don't need to pay gym fees to get fit, I told myself. I can do it myself for free. Well, that idea hasn't worked out for lazy bones me. I realise now that it was the paying that gave me the incentive to go.<br /><br />I should go for a walk. No, I can't with my bunion.<br /><br />I should go swimming. No, it might trigger off my recurring ear infection.<br /><br />I should buy a treadmill or exercise bike. No, I've nowhere to put one.<br /><br />I should get one of those what d'ya call it, a wii? No, I've heard they're no good for keeping fit.<br /><br />I should rejoin the gym. No, I can't afford it.<br /><br />I should stop making excuses and get off my backside. No, I can't. I've got lots of writing to catch up on today . . .Jeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03834219386682067062noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53088246527284964.post-15057839525780915492010-07-16T02:57:00.000-07:002010-07-16T02:57:04.553-07:00White Rose Ladies Humorous Speech - 12 July 2010<object style="background-image: url("http://i1.ytimg.com/vi/l0WYXN_9op0/hqdefault.jpg");" width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/l0WYXN_9op0&hl=en_GB&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/l0WYXN_9op0&hl=en_GB&fs=1" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Jeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03834219386682067062noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53088246527284964.post-58012906658242547542010-07-12T02:19:00.000-07:002010-07-12T02:33:02.706-07:00Sunny JulyContacting universities (see post below) paid off. I've been offered the opportunity to teach post-grad students on a mental health course. I'll have to prepare carefully what I want to get across, but it's not until early-October so I've got plenty of time to think about it.<br /><br />Also in October I'll be joining with the Leeds Survivor Poetry group to put on an event at the Ilkley Literature Festival. Sounds like October will be an exciting month for me.<br /><br />I'm still going to the Speakers Club and tonight I'll be doing a humorous talk on video. The practice I get there increases my confidence no end. I've progressed from dreading the meetings to enjoying them!<br /><br />At last our new conservatory is ready. I've been spending the last couple of evenings in it sipping G & Ts and watching the changing colours of the sky (better than watching telly!). Next plan is to have a few friends round for a Conservatory Warming Party.<br /><br />Well, I think that's just about all my news for the moment. My novel-in-progress is inching along. I've been re-reading 'Crow Lake' by Mary Lawson and wishing I could write like that.Jeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03834219386682067062noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53088246527284964.post-12167505970132945242010-06-23T05:49:00.000-07:002010-06-23T06:10:09.906-07:00Still at itOkay, that's an ambiguous blog post title. What am I still at? I'd like to say writing my novel, but I've been getting distracted again. It's about ten months since publication of 'The Dark Threads' but I'm 'still at it' trying to make people aware of my book who just might find it interesting or useful. Although it is mainly aimed at the 'general' reader, I've been told it would also be excellent for teaching purposes on mental health courses. So . . .<br /><br />I've been contacting universities all over the UK, trying to convince course leaders that my book is just what their students on mental health courses need. Actually I'm sounding a bit flippant now, but this isn't just about my book. I do honestly believe that students in training to become mental health professionals would benefit from an understanding of how it feels to be on the receiving end of treatment. They have enough dry and stuffy textbooks to read, written by professional experts who have the theories. The perspectives and 'lived through' experiences of both current and former patients are often missing, and much needed. Fortunately, it seems that nowadays some course leaders fully agree. I'm delighted at the positive responses I've received so far.<br /><br />But it's all very time consuming. My novel is taking a back seat again, though hopefully not for too long.Jeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03834219386682067062noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53088246527284964.post-87238455357211458882010-06-17T09:18:00.000-07:002010-06-17T09:26:54.887-07:00Catching upThe months are rushing by and I'm lagging behind. I've got so much catching up to do, so I'll start with this blog. I can't believe it's mid-June already. I've sniffed and sneezed my way through the past few weeks with hay fever, but I think the Beconase is now starting to work. I'm funny about taking medication for anything, perhaps because of the drugs (prescribed) trouble I had in the past. I know that was different, but now I just don't like taking any sort of medication if I can help it.<br /><br />I've been working on my novel but it's been a case of two steps forward and two steps back. I write a chapter, feel pleased with it and then the next day I read it again and I'm not. My recycling bin is full of discarded pages of my manuscript.<br /><br />We had our 26th wedding anniversary on Tuesday. What did we do to celebrate? Well, we had a plate of chips in Morrison's (romantic, eh?) and then we trailed around trying to choose furniture for our spanking new (almost ready) conservatory. We came home feeling tired, shared a bottle of wine - and went to sleep.<br /><br />This, as you will have gathered, is a disjointed blog posting where I jump from one unconnected subject to another. Blame the hay fever (or is it the Beconase?) for my butterfly mind.Jeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03834219386682067062noreply@blogger.com0