I have an eight foot by four foot raised bed in which I planted rows of baby lettuce, radish, rocket, carrots, turnip and beetroot. All of the vegetables, which I make good use of, are flourishing. Radish and turnip greens as well as beetroot leaves can be cooked and enjoyed in various ways.
Today, I ate this season's first radishes with crackers spread with Philadelphia cheese. Previously, I bought some radishes from the supermarket. They were large, a little woody and almost tasteless. My home grown ones are tender, juicy and slightly spicy. My grandson, who popped in after school to give me a slice of upside down cake that he made in food technology, agreed with me when he tasted the radishes.
Such a humble salad vegetable but so delicious. I shall plant another row elsewhere.
Tuesday, 28 April 2015
Monday, 27 April 2015
Mediaeval Novel - Final Revision
I wrote my mediaeval novel set in the reign of Edward II of England a few years ago. Since then, I five of my novels have been published and a sixth has been accepted for publication. In between writing those novels and dealing with lots of 'writerly' matters as well as the demands of daily life, I have dipped in and out of my mediaeval novel. Now, I am determined to finish the revision, but the main problem is that I have dipped in and out of it so often that I see what should be on the page, not what is actually on it. Sometimes it seems as if it will never be ready to submit but, fingers crossed, I shall submit it in June.
Sunday, 26 April 2015
Winston and Winnie Are Dead
Winston and Winnie, a pair of plump wood pigeons annoyed me when alive. They pecked at any greens in the garden which were not covered with netting and stone seeds I put out for smaller birds.
On Friday, feathers floated on the surface of my small garden pond. This morning, I saw feathers scattered over the lawn near the pond. I assume a fox from the nearby woods caught them or, maybe, a cat.
So sad not to have seen them today.
On Friday, feathers floated on the surface of my small garden pond. This morning, I saw feathers scattered over the lawn near the pond. I assume a fox from the nearby woods caught them or, maybe, a cat.
So sad not to have seen them today.
Friday, 24 April 2015
False Pretences a Romantic Regency Mystery is a Guest
My novel, False Pretences. a Romantic Regency Mystery and I are guests at Story Teller Alley, do pop in and visit us at: http://storytelleralley.com/falsepretenses (My hostess misspelt pretenses and will correct it, so you might need to visit: http://storytelleralley.com/falsepretences.)
Thursday, 23 April 2015
What is Romance?
What is Romance? Not an easy question to
answer. I suppose everyone has a different opinion.
The cynical poet, Lord Byron wrote:
For no one cares for matrimonial cooings,
There’s nothing wrong with a connubial kiss:
Think you, if Laura had been Petrarch’s wife,
He would have written sonnets all his life?
The comforts are so sweet
When they do meet.
Only they not embrace,
We face to face.
Ah, you may sigh that is romance in
marriage.
Too Many Strawberry Plants?
On a sunny day the fragrance of ripe strawberries growing in the garden tantalises the taste buds. The pleasure of biting into a sweet, sun-warmed strawberry is far superior biting into one from the supermarket. With this in mind, I ordered 36 strawberry plants, 6 each of 6 varieties, which should provide fruit from April to September.
I'm an optimistic organic gardener, who always imagines bumper rewards from my small fruit and vegetable plots, some of which are in the front garden, some and in the back garden as well as those in pots. However, after I placed my order I panicked. Where would I find the space to plant them?
I decided to pot up the twelve plants which fruit earliest in the year and put them in the greenhouse where I will pollinate them with a paint brush. The remainder should thrive in plant troughs.
If I plant all of them in John Innes Number 3 compost I should have plenty of fruit for the next three years which will repay me for my investment. Hopefully, not only will I have fresh strawberries to eat, I will also have enough to make jam and, maybe, cordial.
I'm an optimistic organic gardener, who always imagines bumper rewards from my small fruit and vegetable plots, some of which are in the front garden, some and in the back garden as well as those in pots. However, after I placed my order I panicked. Where would I find the space to plant them?
I decided to pot up the twelve plants which fruit earliest in the year and put them in the greenhouse where I will pollinate them with a paint brush. The remainder should thrive in plant troughs.
If I plant all of them in John Innes Number 3 compost I should have plenty of fruit for the next three years which will repay me for my investment. Hopefully, not only will I have fresh strawberries to eat, I will also have enough to make jam and, maybe, cordial.
Wednesday, 22 April 2015
My Organic Garden
I woke at 6 a.m. and worked on my novel and other 'writerly' matters until 10.a.m when I went into my organic garden.
I thinned a row of turnips and used the greens to steam and then stir fried them with thin slices of sweet potato cut in half, tofu and rice, and added a vegetable stock pot cube, lemon juice and black pepper for flavour.
Turnip greens are very nutritious so I felt virtuous while I ate lunch.
During the morning I sorted out more plant pots and arranged them on a shelf in the shed.
To straighten it, I tied the stem of my patio cherry tree, which I had planted in the garden, to a pole. It is in full flower. This year I shall find a way of protecting the cherries so that the birds don't eat them the second they ripen.
I then harvested some baby carrots and stored them in the fridge. Afterward I potted up French Beans and covered them with polythene. French Bean seeds can be temperamental so I put two in each pot in the hope that they will sprout. Finally I sowed cucumbers in pots and stood them in a heated propagator.
Tomorrow I'll sow peas, which are soaking in water to encourage them to sprout.
All in all, a happy, productive morning.
I thinned a row of turnips and used the greens to steam and then stir fried them with thin slices of sweet potato cut in half, tofu and rice, and added a vegetable stock pot cube, lemon juice and black pepper for flavour.
Turnip greens are very nutritious so I felt virtuous while I ate lunch.
During the morning I sorted out more plant pots and arranged them on a shelf in the shed.
To straighten it, I tied the stem of my patio cherry tree, which I had planted in the garden, to a pole. It is in full flower. This year I shall find a way of protecting the cherries so that the birds don't eat them the second they ripen.
I then harvested some baby carrots and stored them in the fridge. Afterward I potted up French Beans and covered them with polythene. French Bean seeds can be temperamental so I put two in each pot in the hope that they will sprout. Finally I sowed cucumbers in pots and stood them in a heated propagator.
Tomorrow I'll sow peas, which are soaking in water to encourage them to sprout.
All in all, a happy, productive morning.
Tuesday, 21 April 2015
Invitation
Delighted to invite you to visit Sara-Jayne at: http://sayssara.wordpress.com where I am her guest.
Can't describe how I feel when I see myself and my historical fiction featured.
Can't describe how I feel when I see myself and my historical fiction featured.
Sunday, 19 April 2015
Bribery - Gambados - Granddaughter
I bribed my granddaughter to be good, not only with me, with a promise to take her to Gambados, an indoor play area. Earlier in the week, I promised to take her on Sunday because my daughter said she had behaved well throughout the Easter holiday. She was so excited that she told the plumber, the postman and everyone else she came into contact with: "My grandma's taking me to Gambados."
So, yesterday, with cucumber and cheese sandwiches, shortbread topped with chocolate, and small cartons of apple juice for lunch, she had her reward, and I deserve wings and a halo. Gambados is an indoor children's play area. The music turned up to full volume, excited children's chatter etc., and adult conversation conducted loudly in order to be heard is deafening.
My five year-old granddaughter's enthusiasm and happiness made the visit worth while although my wings and halo haven't appeared. From 10 30 a.m. when we arrived until we left at 12.45 she did not stop smiling. She climbed up the platforms to the overhead area with tunnels and other challenges, drove bumper cars making three point turns and reversing with expertise, hurtled down a long slide as well as riding a horse on the fairground style carousel.
She loved our visit so much that I've promised to take her again if she continues to be good.
I took her home, and then, for an end of the holidays treat, we went to our favourite vegetarian Indian restaurant, Sakonis, in Harrow.
Full to the brim with good food, we went home and I dashed down to Asda to buy some Schlur and nibbles to contribute to Watford Writers official change of venue from Cha Café to Oddfellows Hall.
So, yesterday, with cucumber and cheese sandwiches, shortbread topped with chocolate, and small cartons of apple juice for lunch, she had her reward, and I deserve wings and a halo. Gambados is an indoor children's play area. The music turned up to full volume, excited children's chatter etc., and adult conversation conducted loudly in order to be heard is deafening.
My five year-old granddaughter's enthusiasm and happiness made the visit worth while although my wings and halo haven't appeared. From 10 30 a.m. when we arrived until we left at 12.45 she did not stop smiling. She climbed up the platforms to the overhead area with tunnels and other challenges, drove bumper cars making three point turns and reversing with expertise, hurtled down a long slide as well as riding a horse on the fairground style carousel.
She loved our visit so much that I've promised to take her again if she continues to be good.
I took her home, and then, for an end of the holidays treat, we went to our favourite vegetarian Indian restaurant, Sakonis, in Harrow.
Full to the brim with good food, we went home and I dashed down to Asda to buy some Schlur and nibbles to contribute to Watford Writers official change of venue from Cha Café to Oddfellows Hall.
Saturday, 18 April 2015
False Pretences a Romantic Regency Mystery - Back Cover
False Pretences
By Rosemary Morris
Traditional Regency Romance
Five-year-old
Annabelle arrived at boarding school fluent in French and English. Separated
from her nurse, a dismal shadow blights Annabelle’s life because she does not
know who her parents are.
Although
high-spirited, Annabelle is financially dependent on her unknown guardian. She
refuses to marry a French baron more than twice her age.
Her life
in danger, Annabelle is saved by a gentleman, who says he will help her to
discover her identity. Yet, from then on nothing is as it seems, and she is
forced to run away for the second time to protect her rescuer.
Even more
determined to discover her parents’ identity, in spite of many false pretences,
Annabelle must learn who to trust. Her attempts to unravel the mystery of her
birth, lead to further danger, despair, unbearable heartache and even more
false pretences until the only person who has ever wanted to cherish her,
reveals the startling truth, and all’s well that ends well.
Extract from False Pretences a Romantic Regency Mystery
False Pretences by Rosemary Morris
Romantic Regency Mystery
Abbreviated Extract from Chapter One
1815
“My dear child, you are fortunate,” said Miss Chalfont, headmistress of
The Beeches Boarding School for Young Ladies. “Your guardian has arranged for
you to marry, Monsieur le Baron de Beauchamp.”
Annabelle looked up with a mixture of astonishment, disbelief, and
intense indignation at the arrangement that took no heed of her wishes. “I am
to marry a man I have never met?”
With restless fingers, Miss Chalfont adjusted her frilled mobcap. “Yes,
your guardian has arranged for you to marry Monsieur le Baron tomorrow.”
Annabelle stared at her kind teacher as though she had turned into a
monster. “Mon dieu!” she raged, reverting to the French she spoke when
she was a small child. “My God! Tomorrow? My guardian expects me to marry a
Frenchman tomorrow? Miss Chalfont, surely you do not approve of such haste.”
“Do not take the Lord’s name in vain.” Miss Chalfont tapped her fingers
on her desk. “My approval or disapproval is of no consequence. Your guardian
wishes you to marry immediately so there is little more to be said. A special licence
has been procured and the vicar has been informed.” Miss Chalfont smiled at
her. “You have nothing to fear. This letter informs me that Monsieur speaks
English and lives in this country.”
Annabelle scowled. Her hands trembled. For the first time, she defied
her head mistress. “Nothing to fear? My life is to be put in the hands of a
husband with the right to…beat me…or…starve me, and you say I have nothing to
fear, Miss Chalfont? Please believe me when I say that nothing will
persuade me to marry in such haste.”
Not the least display of emotion crossed the head teacher’s face. “You
should not allow your imagination to agitate your sensibilities. For all you
know, the monsieur is charming and will be a good, kind husband.”
“On the other hand, he might be a monster,” Annabelle said.” ‘
“He is described as a handsome gentleman of mature years.”
“One would think the description is of a piece of mature cheese or a
bottle of vintage wine.”
Miss Chalfont frowned. “Do not be impertinent, Annabelle, you are not
too old to be punished.”
“I beg your pardon, ma’am, but please tell me how mature he is,”
Annabelle said, her eyes wide open and her entire body taut with apprehension.
“Monsieur le Baron is some forty-years-old.”
“How mature?” Annabelle persisted with her usual bluntness.
“He is forty-two-years-old.”
Annabelle stood, bent forward, and drummed her fingers on the edge of
the desk. “Please be kind enough to inform my guardian that I will not play
Guinevere to an aging Arthur. I would prefer to build my nest with a young
Lancelot.”
False Pretences is available as an e-book
from:
Friday, 17 April 2015
Sunday's Child a Romantic Regency Novel - Back Cover
Sunday’s Child by
Rosemary Morris
Back Cover
Georgianne Whitley’s
beloved father and brothers died in the war against Napoleon Bonaparte. While
she is grieving for them, she must deal with her unpredictable mother’s sorrow,
and her younger sisters’ situation caused by it.
Georgianne’s problems
increase when the arrogant, wealthy but elderly Earl of Pennington, proposes
marriage to her for the sole purpose of being provided with an heir. At first
she is tempted by his proposal, but something is not quite right about him. She
rejects him not suspecting it will lead to unwelcome repercussions.
Once, Georgianne had
wanted to marry an army officer. Now, she decides never to marry ‘a military
man’ for fear he will be killed on the battlefield. However, Georgianne still
dreams of a happy marriage before unexpected violence forces her to relinquish
the chance to participate in a London Season sponsored by her aunt.
Shocked and in pain,
Georgianne goes to the inn where her cousin Sarah’s step-brother, Major
Tarrant, is staying, while waiting for the blacksmith to return to the village
and shoe his horse. Recently, she has been reacquainted with Tarrant—whom she
knew when in the nursery—at the vicarage where Sarah lives with her husband
Reverend Stanton.
The war in the Iberian
Peninsula is nearly at an end so, after his older brother’s death, Tarrant, who
was wounded, returns to England where his father asks him to marry and produce
an heir.
To please his father,
Tarrant agrees to marry, but due to a personal tragedy he has decided never to
father a child.
When Georgianne, arrives
at the inn, quixotic Tarrant sympathises with her unhappy situation. Moreover,
he is shocked by the unforgivably brutal treatment she has suffered.
Full of admiration for
her beauty and courage Tarrant decides to help Georgianne.
Thursday, 16 April 2015
Spring Really Is In The Air
The birds that visit my organic garden know spring is in the air. The male blackbird and a pair of jays bathed in the water around the rim of my small pond, and then shook the water off their feathers.
While I get on in the garden I pause to admire butterflies and a narrow border filled with daffodils, white single and double tulips and narcissi, which have a wonderful fragrance.
The bluebells are almost in flower, but beautiful as they will be they grow like weeds and are overtaking the rose bed. I dug up loads last year but they are persistent so and sos.
Tomorrow I shall pot up runner beans and French beans, sow cucumbers, squash and pumpkins as well as moving plants from the greenhouse to the garden.
While I get on in the garden I pause to admire butterflies and a narrow border filled with daffodils, white single and double tulips and narcissi, which have a wonderful fragrance.
The bluebells are almost in flower, but beautiful as they will be they grow like weeds and are overtaking the rose bed. I dug up loads last year but they are persistent so and sos.
Tomorrow I shall pot up runner beans and French beans, sow cucumbers, squash and pumpkins as well as moving plants from the greenhouse to the garden.
Wednesday, 15 April 2015
Publisher's Contract for Monday's Child
My day began really well. The contract for my new Romantic Regency Novel, Monday's Child, set in Brussels during the hundred days between Napoleon's escape
Monday's Child is a follow on novel from my published novel Sunday's Child. I hope my readers will enjoy becoming reacquainted with some of the characters they met in Sunday's Child.
Monday's Child is a follow on novel from my published novel Sunday's Child. I hope my readers will enjoy becoming reacquainted with some of the characters they met in Sunday's Child.
Tuesday, 14 April 2015
Watford Writers
Watford Writers, the group, which I belong to, has moved from Cha Café in Cassio Park to Oddfellows in Watford, Hertfordshire.
We met there for the first time yesterday to offer constructive critiques on whatever members chose to share. As usual I am amazed by the talent of published and unpublished writers and enjoy the get togethers with an opportunity to chat during the tea break.
Anyone who would like to join this friendly, vibrant group and receive good advice and be sure of a warm welcome.
We met there for the first time yesterday to offer constructive critiques on whatever members chose to share. As usual I am amazed by the talent of published and unpublished writers and enjoy the get togethers with an opportunity to chat during the tea break.
Anyone who would like to join this friendly, vibrant group and receive good advice and be sure of a warm welcome.
Monday, 13 April 2015
Plotting New Novel - Tuesday's Child
After my visit to The National Portrait Museum I jotted down my ideas for Tuesday's Child, a follow on Regency Romance from Sunday's Child and Monday's Child. This morning I typed my notes, the first step to writing my new novel. Afterwards I completed some preliminary research.
I don't plan my novels in detail because I like my characters to surprise me, but I do consider how to begin, what might happen in the middle and possible endings that leave no unravelled threads.
Before I write the first sentence I complete profiles of my main characters. These not only include their appearance, their likes and dislikes, their eccentricities and much more, such as their family trees, where they were educated and their life experience. I don't reveal some of the information about the protagonists but it helps me to create believable characters.
I don't plan my novels in detail because I like my characters to surprise me, but I do consider how to begin, what might happen in the middle and possible endings that leave no unravelled threads.
Before I write the first sentence I complete profiles of my main characters. These not only include their appearance, their likes and dislikes, their eccentricities and much more, such as their family trees, where they were educated and their life experience. I don't reveal some of the information about the protagonists but it helps me to create believable characters.
Sunday, 12 April 2015
New Novel - Tuesday's Child
I knew who the heroine of Tuesdays Child, the sequel to Sunday's and Monday's Child, Regency Romances, will be, and what her circumstances are, but until I visited the National Portrait Gallery's Wellington Exhibition I didn't have an inkling of the plot. After viewing the exhibition I jotted down the outline while I ate lunch. All in all a satisfying day. I now plan to visit The Regency Exhibition at The National Gallery.
Friday, 10 April 2015
Chiltern Open Air Museum
I took three of my grandchildren to Chiltern Open Air Museum to see reconstructed historical buildings, which include an Iron Age House, Leagrave Cottage, 18th Century, Leagrave Cottage 19th Century and also a working farm, to name only a few.
My small granddaughter was fascinated by the rag dolls on one of the beds and by a patchwork quilt. The boys were interested in machinery, chimney sweeps brushes, bellows and fire irons and much more.
We enjoyed making friends with the shire horses and marvelled at the size of the oxen.
The weather was perfect, neither too hot nor too cold. W e appreciated our picnic, cheese and cucumber sandwiches, crisps, grapes, small squares of millionaires shortbread and apple juice, which we ate in a clearing in the woods to the tune of birdsong and chattering squirrels.
Tired but happy we went home and decided to return to watch jousts later in the year.
My small granddaughter was fascinated by the rag dolls on one of the beds and by a patchwork quilt. The boys were interested in machinery, chimney sweeps brushes, bellows and fire irons and much more.
We enjoyed making friends with the shire horses and marvelled at the size of the oxen.
The weather was perfect, neither too hot nor too cold. W e appreciated our picnic, cheese and cucumber sandwiches, crisps, grapes, small squares of millionaires shortbread and apple juice, which we ate in a clearing in the woods to the tune of birdsong and chattering squirrels.
Tired but happy we went home and decided to return to watch jousts later in the year.
Agatha Christie and Syria
I am reading 'Come Tell Me How You Live' by Agatha Christie Mallowan.
In 1930 Agatha Christies married Max Mallowan a young archaeologist. According to the foreword by Jacquetta Hawkes 'Agatha did not see her own renown as any bar to sharing in her husband's work. From the first she took full part in every one of Max's excavations in Syria and Iraq.'
After the 2nd World War Agatha wrote: 'My thoughts turning more and more to those days spent in Syria, and at last I have felt impelled to get out my notes and rough diaries and complete what I had begun....For I love that gentle fertile country (Syria) and its simple people, who know how to laugh and enjoy life; who are idle and gay, and who have dignity, good manners, and a great sense of humour, and to whom death is not terrible.
'Inshallah, I shall go there again, and the things that I love shall not have perished from this earth...
Spring 1944.
Yet, seventy years late, moved to tears by her words in the knowledge of recent events in Syria, I ask myself if anything remains of the Syria she knew and loved.
In 1930 Agatha Christies married Max Mallowan a young archaeologist. According to the foreword by Jacquetta Hawkes 'Agatha did not see her own renown as any bar to sharing in her husband's work. From the first she took full part in every one of Max's excavations in Syria and Iraq.'
After the 2nd World War Agatha wrote: 'My thoughts turning more and more to those days spent in Syria, and at last I have felt impelled to get out my notes and rough diaries and complete what I had begun....For I love that gentle fertile country (Syria) and its simple people, who know how to laugh and enjoy life; who are idle and gay, and who have dignity, good manners, and a great sense of humour, and to whom death is not terrible.
'Inshallah, I shall go there again, and the things that I love shall not have perished from this earth...
Spring 1944.
Yet, seventy years late, moved to tears by her words in the knowledge of recent events in Syria, I ask myself if anything remains of the Syria she knew and loved.
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