Hello..... is anybody out there?

I was sitting in bed this morning trying to learn Chinese when I thought about this blog. That may seem like an odd connection, but sometimes when your mind is concentrating on one thing it can suddenly flip to another...

So there I was, learning the days of the week, when this old Secret Housewife blog popped into my head.Its been a long time since I was over here. I had almost forgotten about it, but not quite. And I thought to myself, "Am I going to give up that dear old site?"

This blog has been with me since my boys were 8 and 6 years old. I started writing it when I was alone on New Year's Eve, feeling sorry for myself - a housewife with not many interests and little confidence. Now my boys are 18 and 16 and my life has changed exponentially...

I feel like a butterfly who has spread their wings and flown into a warm, sunny day.

As I write this blog I am a fully qualified Cognitive Hypnotherapist with my own business. I have worked hard to get where I am and, to be honest, I don't think that I could ever have guessed that I would be here if you had asked me about my future on that New Year's Eve 10 years ago.

Isn't it funny how life can take you in so many different directions and no matter what happens to you there seems to always be something one can take from the ups and downs? 

If you have followed my little blog over the years then you will have read about my thoughts on whether I should go back to study for my Degree at the OU.....and then the subsequent years which saw me eventually graduate. You will have read about Post Natal Depression and about my father's death. You will have read about my dream to run the London Marathon and my elation when I crossed the finishing line. You will have read about being nominated for awards and about my anger over injustice....a bit of a hotch potch really....but its been my little hotch potch.

As time has gone by I have learnt that learning never ends... that trying new things, throwing oneself into life wholeheartedly brings huge rewards... not monetary rewards, but the reward of growth and joy. Don't get me wrong...I don't spend my days singing "The Hills are Alive..." as I frolic over fields. Some days are hard and I doubt myself often...but I am so fortunate to be where I am now....at the start of a new adventure as a Cognitive Hypnotherapist. My dream is to be able to keep doing this, to grow and learn to be the best therapist I can be, and to help as many people as I can.

I may well come back here from time to time to update the old site on what I am up to...but for now, thank you for following me.

Instagram Tips for Beginners.

I have found myself becoming more and more interested in my photography over the last few weeks. This has led to me seeing a surge of new followers on my Instagram account and, in turn, I have discovered a great number of talented photographers. My rediscovered love of photography coincides with my rediscovered love of gardening and walking. I have neglected to blog recently because I have been outside, enjoying looking after my allotment and walking through the countryside. Obviously I have been home at times too... I haven't been wandering like a nomad...

The thing I have realised about Instagram... durrrr.... after being on it for years... is that it is an interactive place. For a long time I sat waiting for people to come and find my photos and shower me with love and admiration. Yes... I know... sickening. And stupid. Because you have to show love to get love. This does not mean that you should follow everyone in sight, no matter what their photos are like. No. But you do need to find people whose photos you like and you need to tell them that you like them. And you need to follow them. Then, hopefully they will follow you back and you can appreciate each others photographical endeavours! (I'm not sure photographical is a real word, but I'm going to use it...)

A good way to find people and to enable them to find you, is to use hashtags. When you post your photo, add a little description and some hashtags. For example... for the photo above, my most liked photo, I put descriptive tags such as #daisy #macro #flower Then people interested in those things can search and will find your photos! Easy! And look at other people's hashtags too... If you like what's clustered there... use the tag for your work!! Its a simple way of finding like minded Instagrammers.

Some people recommend following as many Instagrammers as possible, randomly, but I think this is silly advice. To be following 2000 people when you have 100 followers smacks of desperation to me. The most important factor in all this is ... the photographs. Why be on Instagram if you don't love finding interesting things to photograph? And why follow people unless their photos fill you with joy? Equally I am unlikely to follow someone who has 10,000 followers, but is only following back 200...I'd rather find someone who has 50 followers, but takes great photos and will interact. I am a bit needy... I love it when people follow my Instagram account. I will look through their photos and follow them back if they are good.But if I look at their page and its full of selfies and cats... then I'm afraid I won't follow. Its all about individual taste.

What I would say is that if you click on lots of someone's photos and obviously like what they are doing... why not follow them? I have had people who like 20 of my pictures, but who don't follow, don't interact. It galls me!! I don't mind if you don't like my photos and don't want to follow me, or if you only like one or two, but to like loads and not give me the courtesy of a follow is just... well, I could say rude, but I will say "mildly irritating" instead. After all, this is not the UN here.

My husband doesn't "get" my obsession with Instagram. He thinks the whole "follower" thing is silly, but I don't!! I love scrolling through someone's photos clicking "like" and gasping at the beauty in that little square box.I love it when someone I admire follows me back. I love it when I find a new angle, a hidden gem, and know that it will make a good photo. I know that I am not in the league of professional photographers, but I am in the league of people who take pleasure in snapping away with their phone. That's part of the joy for me... that I only use my phone... no special lenses, rarely any filters.

So... what I am trying to say is that Instagram is a place of huge variety. From flowers to food, from selfies to seascapes. Whatever your photographic preference there will be something for you to enjoy, but to enjoy Instagram fully... interact!! Post your best photos, think about your composition, make sure they are in focus ( note to self: always wear your specs to check!!) and follow people whose work you like. If people comment on your photos... comment back, thank them. Its great when someone takes the time to say they like a photo you've posted, so give them back some love!! Another good idea is to check out the photos your followers like. Its a great way to find new Instagrammers and the chances are that if your followers like your stuff, you will like the other people they follow. Its also a great way to find inspiration and to learn new ideas.

Whether you have a few followers or lots, quality always wins over quantity. Maybe I'll see you over there!

Check Out That View!!

This time last week I was well into my first day, studying Cognitive Hypnotherapy. The university where the course is based has beautiful grounds and gardens so I couldn't resist taking photos of the flower beds!! If you look at my Instagram account for the summer time I do tend to become a tad obsessed with flowers in all their glory and I think that perhaps that time is drawing near again.Anyway.... my choice for this week's Check Out That View, hosted by the lovely Emma is the photo below. As you can see it shows one of the university flower beds looking rather glorious. I hope you like it and if you do then maybe you can click on the button below and visit some other Check Out That View participants... or maybe take part yourself!!

Retraining to Become a Cognitive Hypnotherapist.

I have worked in my current job for over 11 years. I love working as a Teaching Assistant, but since I completed my Degree in 2013 I have had my eye out for my next step. I knew that it would present itself to me. I just had to be patient. I was looking for something that would stretch my mind, be rewarding and at the same time be about giving back, helping other people. I wanted to find something that would inspire me. The solution came, as these things tend to do, out of the blue. Cognitive Hypnotherapy is my future and it found me by taking away my fear.

I had been more and more fearful of a certain situation and had decided to visit a friend of mine who is in practice as a Hypnotherapist. In one session she changed my life, or at least she enabled me to change my life. My fear was gone, no longer debilitating and I felt inspired to study hypnotherapy myself. How wonderful, to be able to help people live life as they want to live it, without fear.

I started to research courses and discovered that in the UK there is no one governing body for hypnotherapists. It is still seen as outside of the mainstream. However, I was drawn again and again to one place - an institute that is proud of its cutting edge approach to Cognitive Hypnotherapy. When I have completed my course I will share with you more, but for now I am going to keep that titbit of information private! I hope you don't mind! It will give me a reason to write again about my course, because if it continues the way it has started I am going to be raving about it!

I had my first study weekend last week and I don't think I have ever felt so positive,so inspired or excited. The weekend was fantastic from start to finish - the organisation and communication, the support given by our trainers and assistants. I learnt so much in two days. By Saturday night my mind felt like it was about explode. But in a good way. If there is a good way for your head to explode!! I went home excited and full of enthusiasm. The second day was, if anything, even better, and this time my mind felt relaxed and open. We were taught theory and then two techniques which we practised. And I can tell you .... they work like magic. Magic!

So now I have to wait a month before our next study weekend. This month is going to be spent reading and practising the techniques I have learnt. My youngest son has so far avoided my attempts at relaxation therapy or anchoring, but my eldest son has proved a brilliant subject! I have started close to home, but am gradually branching out to friends and neighbours in the quest to hone my hypnotherapy skills!

It is a little bit like being a magician. To watch someone go from being awake, nervous and unsettled to being relaxed totally and then back out the other side, awake and alert yet refreshed and calm, is truly wonderful. I have so much to learn, but the learning is awe inspiring. To be able, at the age of 51, to retrain in something which I can continue for the rest of my life, is just brilliant.

Love to Eat... Hate to Cook!!

I love eating. The way to my heart ( other than, of course, diamonds) is through my stomach. I love going out to eat, whether it be at a restaurant or a friend's house. I love the whole ritual of choice and surprise, of unusual and new flavours, of conversation, candles and crystal, of friendship, cosiness and comfort. Sadly, however, this eating experience is not one I enjoy terribly often.

I hate cooking. Not to say that I am a bad cook. In fact I would go as far as to say that I'm a pretty good cook. I make everything from scratch, choosing good ingredients and varied recipes. As a young mother I did the whole thing of freezing trays of organic sweet potato and I regularly made my own bread.


But, if I am to be completely honest? Nowadays I loathe the whole business of cooking. I hate having to cook for my family when I don't want to eat. I hate planning something and then finding that nobody is interested in eating it. The question that burns into my brain and fries my soul is "What's for dinnnneeeeeerrrr?" What is for dinner? Well, obviously something that one of you will hate, if not both of you, my darling boys!

One of my boys likes fish, the other doesn't. One likes curries, the other doesn't. One likes bacon, ham and pork, the other doesn't. This narrows down the range of dishes that they both will eat and it bores me to tears.

I find a recipe that I think everyone will enjoy and they eat it with no word of thanks or enjoyment. After a while it grinds you down.

Both my boys can cook. They often make their own lunches at the weekend. My eldest came first in a school cooking competition, making his own chicken pie from scratch at the age of 12. On Mother's Day I came home to find that my 17 year old had made a Victoria sponge for me, making butter cream and cleaning the kitchen after himself. Brilliant!

I am grateful for when they cook and I am lucky to have a husband who cooks too. But it still doesn't change the fact that I do the majority of the cooking. At the moment I have roast chicken in the oven with home made roast potatoes, cauliflower in a creamy cheesy sauce, more veg peeled and ready to steam. I will make my own gravy from the chicken juices and red wine... but its just bloody dull.

Do I sound very petulant and spoilt? I probably do. But this is my blog and if I want to have a good old moan about something petty, then I will. I suppose I'm lucky that any of them cook at all, ever. I suppose I'm lucky that I can afford nice food, that my mum taught me to bake and make sauces and follow recipes. I'm lucky in all sorts of ways, but right now, if I won the lottery I would never cook again

Audley End House ... a wonderful day out!

When the boys were little we used to go on "Days Out" all the time, but as they have grown older, hairier and generally more hormonal those days have become few and far between. Our membership of English Heritage has been lying unused for the first few months of the year and we wanted to dust off our cards and get our money's worth. Perusing the Members' Manual we found Audley End House - a rather gorgeous looking house about an hour away from home. Our eldest son, 17, decided that he was unavailable for an outing ( quelle surprise!), but amazingly our youngest, 15, joined us as we set off in the car towards Saffron Walden.

The sat nav took us in a circuitous route through beautiful countryside, lush with daffodils and early crops of Oil Seed Rape until we arrived at the gates to Audley End House. The driveway led us to a car park overlooking a lake, complete with ducks and ducklings.

Audley End House.

Due to the fact that teenagers ( and it has to be said, lazy mothers) do not get out of bed before 10 am in the school holidays, we arrived just before lunchtime and felt that the only way to proceed was to go straight to the cafe for a bite to eat. I commented on the fact that it was a shame that the cafe was in such a dark room, only to be told by my husband that if I had bothered to walk a couple of yards further I would have found the main part of the cafe which overlooks the parkland surrounding the main house, with huge windows. I don't think I will get a job offer from MI6 any time soon if observation is an important factor for being a spy...

Still, the food was nice. I had a warm individual quiche with a rocket salad. My husband had a delicious looking vegetable and bean stew. Our son went for the healthy option of crisps and a chocolate brownie. As you do.

Unfortunately we were not allowed to take photographs in the house itself, but I can assure you it is a stunning place. Built originally on the foundations of a Benedictine monastery in the 12th century it has been well cared for over the ages. At one point it was one of the greatest houses of Jacobean England.

In the 1700's Capability Brown was commissioned to landscape the gardens and Robert Adam added fashionable reception rooms.

What I loved about the house was that it felt lived in. It is as if the family are away at their London home and could be back at any minute. The kitchens, laundry rooms and stables are all restored to the way they were in the 1800's, complete with copper pots, game larders and holograms of staff working away and talking you through their days.

A huge asset, of whom English Heritage should be very proud, is the staff who wait in each room to tell you about the house, its contents and its history. The English Heritage staff are so knowledgeable and enthusiastic. They are warm and welcoming and full of fascinating facts and titbits about their particular area.

Anyone who has been to my blog before will know about my love of vegetable gardening and much as I loved the house I couldn't wait to get to the walled vegetable garden. It was magnificent!! I definitely want to come back in the summer when everything is blooming.

The kitchen garden is vast, tended by a team of gardeners and bursting with manicured beds and the most gorgeous espaliers. 

The gardens used to provide food for the house and in the glass houses there were fruit trees, vines and exotics - beautiful.

From the garden we went to the stables where I was able to try sitting on a side saddle - something I've always fancied doing. Again there were holograms of staff, this time the coachman, going through what were his daily duties. There were real horses in the stables too.

Having sampled the delights of both house and grounds we decided to try the cafe again. This time we sat by the window overlooking the grounds and indulged ourselves with Victoria sponge, hot chocolate and tea. All very nice!

We didn't have time to visit the par terre garden, but we will go along next time. And there will definitely be a next time. Even our son enjoyed himself, much to his own surprise! I think younger children would like to too as there are interactive games to be played in the Nursery, as well as clothes to dress up in. I loved the kitchen gardens, but I also found the house fascinating, from the coal gallery on the second floor to the beautiful paintings and the laundry. I loved hearing about the history of the house and the people who had lived there - from Lord Audley to Elizabeth, Countess of Portsmouth and from the Braybrookes to the Polish Special Operations  Executive who trained there during the Second World War.

If you are in the area and have a chance to visit I would strongly recommend Audley End House and if its your cup of tea you should look into joining English Heritage, then your trip will be free! Whoopeee!!!

Oh and just in case you wondered... I wrote this review because I had a lovely day out. No bribes were offered or received!!

Check Out That View. Audley End House.

I am writing a post about our day out at Audley End House, but in the meantime I thought I would link up with Emma and her Sunday photo linky Check Out That View. If you fancy having a peek at some jolly nice photos then do have a click on the button below and maybe you could join in too!

For now here's my photo. I shall post my review of our day later on hopefully!

Audley End House, Essex.

Warning!! Before you buy an XBox ...

Do you have teenage boys? I do. I have 2 teenage boys who are, frankly, lovely. Most of the time. They have learnt how to make cups of tea and bacon sandwiches. My work as a mother is done. The one thing that drives me bananas is their addiction to consoles. I say the one thing... I mean the main thing. There are other idiosyncrasies that push my buttons, but on the whole I can cope with them. The whole question of XBox and PS4 however is enough to turn me from mild mannered, yoga loving mother to sledge hammer wielding maniac.

photo courtesy of livescience.com

Gone are the days of young men sitting quietly in their rooms reading novels... Actually I'm not sure that ever happened. Gone are the days of boys heading off into the woods to make camps with their friends. These days they sit in their rooms wearing head phones, living vicariously through screens.

My sons alternate between being Ultimate Team footballers, worshiped by millions and paid fortunes, and being Ultimate Killing machines, armed to the teeth with automatic weapons, stalking around virtual battle grounds. They join their friends online, all slumped in their darkened bedrooms for hours on end, communicating through microphones like futuristic Ultimate Call Centre Workers.

I don't understand what they enjoy about this. It is the main source of arguments in our house because they want to play all the time. I only let them play at weekends, for a limited time. I hate the way it changes them. They become surly, angry unreasonable and they don't understand why I am so mean. If I could go back in time I would never have bought the damn things.

They say that its their social life - bantering with their friends through head sets and playing games together. They tell me that they revise together on group chat... *tumble weed rolls by...yeah* It worries me that they will turn into fat, smelly, unshaved men in their 30's who are surgically attached to a gaming chair, kept alive through a system of intravenous Dominos.

The only thing that keeps the light of hope alive in me is the fact that they do sometimes venture out into the light. They have not crossed completely to the dark side yet... They still arrange to play real life football with their mates and sometimes they go on a bike ride. Perhaps this is the way of the future? Perhaps I have to accept that the teenage boy of today needs to sit, bathed in the blue light of his console for what seems like endless hours? I suppose this is better than being on the street corner drinking cider. Yes, of course it is.

But if I was the mum of young boys now, facing for the first time the question of whether I should buy some variant of console game.... I would delay, delay, delay!!! I would encourage outdoor pursuits and building of relationships. I would encourage the reading of books!! Hindsight is a tricky thing. At the time we bought them their first Game Boy we thought it was a bit of fun, that we were being lovely parents. But now I look back and I wish we had waited. I hate these things now. I hate that they spend their money on points to buy new players. I hate that we argue over the time spent on them. I spend my time negotiating usage based on completion of homework and household chores.

I have become a Master at Hide the Controller. My house is full of secret places where the little black plastic controls nestle during the week. We have pitched skills, child against mother in the quest to be the Ultimate Controller of the Game. At the moment I think I am winning... but this could just be a figment of my imagination.

As a mother, speaking to you as a parent ... Beware!! Beware the Peril of the XBox and the PS4. Treat them with caution and hold your children close to you. Be the one who is in control. Have rules. These games are insidious. Before you know it your clean, golden child will become a hairy teenager with oversize thumb muscles and an encyclopedic knowledge of automatic weapons and players from La Liga. You have been warned...

New Running Shoes, New Start.

Today I bought myself some shiny new running shoes! Yes, I may be 50 and I may be carrying a few extra pounds, but I've come to the conclusion that I want to run again. My old London Marathon running shoes are split and tired and do my feet more harm than good, so I bit the bullet, sold one of the kids, and bought some brand new Brooks.

This year is my year of living well. And by that I mean living healthily and to the best of my ability. Part of that has been eating healthily - no bread, lots of fruit and veg, smaller portions - and part has been exercising. That has involved walking, yoga, swimming... and now... dadaaaaah.... running!!

I am not, before you get too excited, a runner. I am a jack of all sports, master of none. I started running about 15 years ago. Well, I say running... I actually started walking. I walked and then one day I started to jog, out of the blue, feeling a bit silly really. And then I ran a 5k and then some 10k's and then a couple of half marathons and then, eventually and really rather slowly, the London Marathon.

The marathon killed me. I trained, running 4 times a week for 8 months and ran that marathon with aching legs and a funny tummy. After it I had lost my joy, my running mojo. I had achieved a massive ambition, but doing it had left me tired and bored of pounding the streets. So I stopped and turned to other pursuits.

But, do you know what? The thought of never running again fills me with horror. I want to have that feeling again, of floating along, my mind working its way through the trials of the day, or just enjoying the countryside, people's gardens. I want to feel the rhythm again and the smug happiness when I get home and am all sweaty and tired, but happy that I've been out. There's no reason why I can't do it. I may be 50, but so what? 50 is the new 30 don't you know?!

I am going to take it easy. I am going to concentrate on enjoying my running. I have never been terribly fast or terribly pretty when I run. I resemble a slightly aged donkey as I jog along, but that's fine with me. Any embarrassment at being slow or shambling is long gone. In the world of runners and walkers the fact that you are out at all counts for a lot. Better to be attempting to run than to be reaching for another donut as you slump on the sofa.

I am hoping that my new shoes will look after my feet and in turn my knees and hips. I am hoping that after the initial difficulties, that always come when you start running again after a break, I will be able to enjoy it. I hope I will be able to reach the summer with stronger legs, heart and lungs and keep running beyond that.

All I have to do now is put my kit on, lace up my shoes and haul myself out there! I'll let you know how it goes...

Why we cannot let Fundamentalism bow us. I'll Ride With You.

I woke up this morning to read that 2000 men, women and children had been massacred in Nigeria by Boko Haram. Following the week that has just passed it is yet another hideous tragedy that darkens our world. I find it so hard to understand why people who consider themselves men and women of God believe that killing others is part of their religion.

photo courtesy of Huffington Post.com

Perhaps they are hiding behind the excuse of religion? I don't believe that any true follower would commit the cowardly and senseless murders we have seen this week. They may believe themselves to be warriors for their faith, but surely this model of faith is a mutation? An abomination.

I sat yesterday watching events unfold in France and ended the day feeling so desperately sad for the people involved. I have read countless articles trying to explain what is happening in the world and why fundamentalists feel the need to intimidate and murder those who disagree with them. There are so many theories, some reasonable, talking about poverty and alienation. Others damn blindly, generalising about an evil threat, conspiracy theories and prophecies of world domination by Islam who they see as some sort of dreadful darkness.

 I don't believe that Islam is evil. True Muslims are good and kind and honorable. As should be those true followers of any of the world religions, be they Muslim, Jewish, Christian, Hindu, Sikh, Buddhist. Mankind takes the words of sacred texts and twists them for his own devices. This has been the case for thousands of years surely? Mankind acts out of fear of the unknown and uses religion to excuse his acts of brutality.

Perhaps I am naive, but I just wish that people could take a moment to be still and to consider others. We may not all follow the same system of beliefs, but surely that's alright? As long as we try to be kind and tolerant, understanding that we are all different, then surely the world would be a better place? I am not a believer, but I have friends who are Muslim, Jewish, Christian, Buddhist, Atheist. Their choice of belief does not offend me. I respect them all. I don't always agree with them, but I respect their right to believe a different truth than mine. Why can the fundamentalists of these faiths not feel the same way? Why do they feel the need to force their views on the world?

In my opinion the basic need of every human being is to love and be loved. No more nor less. If we all treated others with respect, taking each person we meet for who they are individually, then the world would be such a different place.

Perhaps this is easy for me to say, living my middle class life in leafy England. Perhaps the anger and frustration you feel as a young person living in slums, feeling alienated and demonised, pushes people towards hatred and the desire for some sort of justification for their existence? I don't know the answers.

What did touch me this week was the move to extend the hashtag #IllRideWithYou, started after the hostage crisis in Sydney. It began as a way of showing that not everybody equates Islam with terrorism and said "Let's stick together as human beings, be we Muslim, Jew, Christian or Atheist". If only we could stand together, hand in hand with people of all faiths and not judge others because of the actions of a minority.

photo courtesy of allfreedownload.com

They are a dangerous minority, but their desire is to break society, to turn us against each other, to spread fear. We cannot let this happen. We cannot condemn whole sections of society because of the way they dress, the faith they hold. We are all different and we all have the right to live without fear, to live with respect. Fundamentalists, be they Boko Haram, the Kouachi brothers, Anders Behring Breivik or White Supremacists, are a cancer that threatens society. They use violence because their words are impotent, their views abhorrent.

I realise that my views are probably naive, simplistic and if you are entrenched in your view of "them and us" you will scorn what I say. The world is not a simple place. But if we, the majority, stand together and refuse to be bowed, refuse to turn on one another, then they cannot win. I fear the future, but I will not let my fear turn to hatred or paranoia.

The Lake District - one for your bucket list.

When I was little my family and I used to go up to the Lake District every Easter. We would stay with old friends and go boating on Lake Windermere. Now that I have my own family we carry on the tradition of travelling up to the North of England to visit the Lakes, these days staying with my cousin and her family. We usually go up some time around November and it is one of my most favourite events of the year.

Lake Windermere from Gummers Howe

If you have never been up to the Lake District then I can recommend it mightily! For us, from the Home Counties, its a pretty long drive, about five or six hours depending on the traffic, although for those of you from the USA or Australia this probably seems like a trip to the shops!

Lake Windermere

We usually turn up at my cousin's house just before midnight and settle down for a nice glass of wine and a chat before bedtime. The next day is a day to go for walks and there are so many to choose from. If you go onto the Lake District website there are lots of walks to choose from - from hard core walks to pleasant strolls. We tend to tailor our walks depending on which members of the family are with us!

We love to walk on the estuary at Greenodd, as well as walking the hills and around the lakes.

We are all keen photographers and the Lakes provide a never ending treasure trove of images. There's just nothing more wonderful that being outside with your family, breathing in the fresh air, taking photos and then, maybe, having a pint infront of a roaring fire in a local pub!

looking out over Windermere from Gummers Howe

On the way up to the top.

We usually have a big bonfire on the Saturday night, standing in the dark with sparklers and damson gin ... maybe some hot homemade soup too. My cousin makes an excellent butternut squash and chorizo soup!

There are lots of books and websites about the Lakes and I am no expert, but if you haven't been then you are missing out!! You don't have to be a huntin' fishin' walkin' expert. You just need to make sure you choose the right walk for you, whether its round the shops or up to the tops, and wear the right clothes for the walk you choose and the season you are in.

Secret Housewife and my Man.

The sites I have linked to are full of information, but really, if you've never been.... go! Its one of those places that should be on your bucket list. We tend to go when its quieter - fewer tourists, but any time of the year it's gorgeous.

What is NaNoWriMo?

You may, like me, have seen the strange word "NaNoWriMo" popping up all over the web in the last few weeks or months. I had noticed last year and the year before and had wondered what on earth it meant.

To be honest I had difficulty even saying the word .... NaNooMeeeMooo.... NaWriMaMooo..... MaaaNaaaMiiiiReeee...

I had no idea...

To my surprise, this year, I received an invitation from my brother and his girlfriend to take part in NaNoWriMo... or, as I prefer to say..

National Novel Writing Month

My brother explained that the thing was a writing challenge. Write a 50,000 word novel in a month. To be specific write it in the month of November. I would need to average about 1600 to 2000 words a day if I was to complete my masterpiece in the set time span.

Well, I've often been told by people, mainly my husband, that I should write a book. My answer has always been to stare in disbelief at him, them and shake my head. Write a book? Just like that?

I have no inspiration, no ideas... how can I write a book?

Well, Grasshopper ... this is where NaNoWriMo comes in. You just write. I see that other people have varying approaches. Some plan meticulously before November, having plot, characters, history all prepared before the start date. Others just sit down and start writing on the first day.Some adopt a combination of the two methods. This is what I have done.

It doesn't matter if you don't finish. It doesn't matter if it's rubbish. What matters is that you sit down and write. Apparently only 17% of people who try it succeed, but if you do you get ... well, actually you get nothing but a little virtual badge of honour and a feeling of smugness in your heart. You also, I would imagine ( I say imagine as I am currently on Day 4 so 50,000 words seems an awfully long way away) you also would enjoy a very large sense of achievement. 2,000 words a day is no small feat when you have a job, kids, a husband or wife who thinks you're mad...

The NaNoWriMo site is full of forums, support groups, graphs to show your word count and links to Pep Talks. They arrange meet ups in local coffee emporiums all over the world so that you can write with company. I do like a graph.

So, as I say... I am on Day 4 and things are going ok. I am fitting my writing in around work, taxiing children, sport, housework and a husband with a bad back ( say no more). My plan is to write as much as I can early on so that on the days when I have absolutely no time ( and they will come, Grasshopper, they will come) I am ahead of the game.

My story seems to be channeling itself through me from somewhere, though God knows how. I am certainly enjoying myself.

If you are reading this and wondering whether you should do it, I say yes!! What do you have to lose? You might be able to start now if you work hard, or you could start planning for next year. Or perhaps you are reading this next year... in which case... Do It!!

Its free, its a challenge and its not going to be judged by anyone. What's not to like?. I don't think I will end up being the next J.K Rowling, but I will at least have proved to myself that I can string more than 300 words together.

I will come back and write another post when and if I finish....

A Wedding on the Beach

Camber Sands

Sometimes you go for a while without writing. Sometimes there is no need to write because the real life that you lead fills your days and satisfies your whims. This has been the case for me over the summer months.

A good friend of our was married in August. He and his wife have known each other for 33 years and he has asked her many times over the years to be his wife. He has taken her to romantic dinners to ask. He took her to Juliet's balcony in Verona to ask. Every time she said no. I don't know why. To be honest it doesn't matter because they were always very happy.

Last year they went to Camber Sands - the beach pictured above and one morning they went for a walk together along the seafront. As they were walking along our friend's girlfriend pointed to a lovely shell and remarked on it. G picked it up and was delighted to see that someone had written inside the shell "Will you marry me?" How romantic, he thought as he showed it to L. "Yes!" she said "It is romantic! I wrote it!! Will you marry me?!"

And that was the start of their plans. Their plans led back to that beach this summer to the most beautiful wedding surrounded by their family and friends. We picnicked on the beach, drinking champagne and eating food from wicker baskets filled with scrumptiousness. The bride arrived on the back of a motorbike to the strains of "Born to be Wild" and the groom wept as he spoke of his love for his family and his beautiful wife.

There are times in life when you don't need to write everything down when it happens. Sometimes its nice to live in the moment and savour the moment you are in. To walk side by side with my man on the beach at Camber made me feel so happy. Being able to share G and L's special day made me feel happy. And part of me wanted to keep that experience close to my heart for a while.

As we head into the shorter days, with darker mornings and leaf swept afternoons, its rather lovely to look back at those summer moments. And it was time to share them. x

Secret Housewife's Book Review of My Escape An Autobiography by Benoite Groult

I have been writing book reviews for Blogcritics for a little while now and I have been very fortunate to be able to read some excellent work that I might not have come across without the Blogcritics site.

The most recent book is an autobiography by the French writer Benoite Groult. I hadn't heard of her before reading her biography, but I have to say that I am so pleased to have found her. What a remarkable woman! She was born in 1920 and is still going strong. At the age of 92 she looks like someone in her late 60s and is full of life, intelligence and humour. My review of her book My Escape is posted below and can also be found on the Blogcritics site.

My mission now is to read more of her work - Ainsi Soit -Elle and Salt on our Skin particularly. She wrote the latter at the age of 70 and it is a love story that I can't wait to read! So, here is my review of her autobiography. I am not paid for any reviews, although I did receive my copy of her book for free. All my views are honest and uninfluenced by anyone else!

Book Review of My Escape by Benoite Groult

I admit, to my shame, that I had not heard of Benoite Groult before reading her autobiography My Escape. Having read it I want to know more, read more of her work and, strangely enough, I feel compelled to travel to Brittany to visit again the seashore of my childhood that both Benoite and I share.

My Escape is written in a way that reveals the author’s voice, the author’s mind. It is written in a style that is intelligent and thoughtful, warm and humorous, both thought provoking and touching. Although written by a woman who is clearly very well read, a true academic, My Escape is utterly accessible and reveals a woman who has lived a life that stretches beyond the world of Academia.

Groult’s style of writing is liquid, beautiful. Her descriptions of the landscape of her life – Brittany, Ireland – are breathtaking and I found myself remembering my own childhood holidays in Brittany through her words – ‘the smell of seaweed, the silvery sounds of the water as it gently separates into a thousand rivulets’, ‘without any age except the age of the world at this precise instant’.

Intertwined between tales of her life, her husbands, her children and grandchildren is the constant theme of feminism, the changing role of women in the world. Her feminism is the feminism of every woman, the feminism of everyday life over a period of years – from her childhood to the present day. She does not approach feminism from a dry academic position, but from the vibrant stance of a woman who has lived life to the full and who has fought for equal rights whilst being a mother, a wife, a grandmother and a professional writer.

Throughout My Escape Groult’s voice is filled with warmth and humour. Her honesty in describing her relationships is incredibly moving, but at the same time matter of fact. I found myself smiling in empathy as she recounted her relationship with her grandchildren and weeping as she told of her husbands and their love. She reveals through her words a gentle strength and determination, but also is not afraid to show the reader her vulnerability, her femininity. She is living proof that being a feminist can mean, and should mean, being a total person with strengths and weaknesses, living life to the full and being considered equal by the world.

My Escape is a gem of a book, written by a woman who is an example to all of us – not because she is perfect, but because she is real, working tirelessly for the cause of Feminism whilst living and loving, doubting and struggling. She is a woman of passion and commitment and a woman I would love to meet. 

Article first published as Book Review: My Escape. An Autobiography by Benoite Groult on Blogcritics.