How to be a writer when you've got a dog. And the kids are on holidays.

It is a pleasure and a quirk of fate that I find myself being paid to write about all manner of topics - or that I find myself being paid to write about anything at all. Last week I was writing about data culture and tomorrow I'm going to be all about food tech. I couldn't have predicted it was ever supposed to be thus....I went freelance seven years ago as an Alliance Manager and at the same time started this blog which revealed me to be not an Alliance Manager but in fact a natural born writer. So here I am.

Anyway, this isn't about how I became a writer, it's about how to be a writer when you have a dog and the kids are on holiday. Are you ready? Here we go!

Step One: Make sure the dog has been walked early doors.

It's 6:30am and your husband has already left for his 'proper job' that requires driving 200 miles for a 9am meeting. Allow yourself a small moment of martyrdom as you realise that you will have to walk the dog and make the packed lunches and pack the bags and ferry the children to and from holiday club. Do not get showered (but do brush your teeth - you're not a barbarian). Instead put on 'active wear' which (regardless of whether you do any proper exercise) will excuse the fact that your hair is in a Very Bad Way. Walk the dog - whether he likes it or not - and pray that you don't bump into your neighbours. Your aim is for a sleeping hound that will allow you to write and nobody realising that occasionally you run so close to the wire that you don't shower first thing. Until you share it on LinkedIn.

Step Two: Take your kids and two of their friends to a holiday club.

Make sure that you have three boys in the back of your car who will talk about nothing but frigging Fortnite and Donald Trump, and a girl in the front who cannot believe her bad luck that she has to go to the same holiday club as her "smelly brother and his smelly friends".

Step Two (a): Realise that you need fuel.

Stop for fuel - now is not the time to 'wing it'. Observe the car bouncing as the boys 'floss' in the back.

After re-fuelling, head for a holiday club which you have carefully selected to be expensive enough to make sure you spend the time working, not just waltzing around your house with glee because you are the only one at home and nobody is asking you to do anything for them. Gaze wistfully at the mums and dads in full office clobber dropping their children off as you remember what it felt like to wear a Hobbs dress and have share options. Remember that you nearly lost your mind (but did cash in enough options to pay for a kitchen - swings and roundabouts.....)

Step Three: Get down to it

Return to house to find a sleeping dog (told you that early doors walk would be worth it). Take a moment to savour the silence of your home. Enjoy a solid few hours of writing and marvel at how a week off really can replenish your reserves. Even if your children fought like wildcats for large parts of it.

Step Four: Run the dog

Get some proper use out of your active wear. Leave the house looking unspeakable with the dog tied to a 'canie-x' belt.

Realise that by 'run' what you're actually going to participate in is a steeplechase because you live in the countryside and it has rained solidly for most of the past week.

Also realise that by 'run' you are going to participate in a 'hunt' because you husband insisted on getting a gun dog that loses its mind when it smells rabbits/deer/pheasants.

Return home where you will bump into your neighbour. Rejoice that whilst your face looks like a tomato placed on top of a pile of Lycra she is in her 'gardening clothes' so you are evens.

Step Five: Clean the dog

Bear in mind you  must clean your dog on the doorstep because it is too big to fit in a sink and will actively fight you if you try to put it in the shower. Congratulate yourself on buying a short-haired dog. Marvel at how you get through three towels.

Step Six: Clean yourself

Now is the time for that shower. See - it would have been annoying if you'd have done it first thing...

Step Seven: Get down to it (again)

After staring enviously at the dog who is now contentedly snoozing on *your* sofa, return to your words.

And finally.....

Congratulate yourself as you complete your writing. Before heading off to collect those kids :)

The Holidays: An Education

I don't know about you but I am chomping at the bit to get back to work properly.  I'm afraid that six weeks of squeezing work in around the holidays have led to my writing abilities diminishing beyond recognition, and I'm bored of the children being bored.  This is not one-sided either - they're desperate to be back amongst friends and the certainty of routine.

Always, always cold

There's also the small matter of whether the break has erased the efforts of the teachers over the past term.  If today's return to rugby was anything to go by (where children forgot how to catch balls and parents forgot that standing on a pitch is always, always going to be cold) then that may well be true.  Unless you frame the learning in a different way.  Which is what I'm going to try to do, so here's....:

How to keep your kids educated during the holidays:

Maths (or numeracy, if you want to be PC about it).

At primary school, depending on where you children are at in the curriculum, they could be covering anything from basic addition to multiplying fractions.  Leave this stuff to the teachers (you'll be getting homework on it anyway), instead demonstrate to them the wonder of maths by doing the following:

1. Ask them what theme park they would like to go to

2. Ask them to calculate how many boxes of cereal you will need to buy in order for the children to get in for free.  Make sure they add on the cost of all the extra stuff you ended up buying from the supermarket because "you were in there anyway".

3. Take them to the theme park

4. Ask them to calculate how much it costs per minute, per ride (answer: circa £20 unless you subscribe to the divisive wealth indicator that is a Fast Track pass).

5. Watch their little faces light up in amazement when you explain to them that even though you bought cereal packets instead of tickets, you still managed to spend £150 on one day out.

English (or literacy.  Or phonics.  Or SPaG.  I don't know what the right thing is anymore).

Poo pants.  There for all to see..

With less focus on writing and honing formal sentence structures, children get far more time to exercise their conversational skills - whether you want to talk to them all day or not.  This is great for developing their confidence in communication although you may find yourself having to explain to them that declaring "Dinner is Served" in a loud voice as they exit the toilet is not an 'appropriate' thing to say.

You may also want to plan any leisurely strolls that you want to take around your neighbourhood with care.  I recommend avoiding bus stops, unless you want to find yourself having to explain "all the swears".

If you're interested in the extent of your children's vocabulary, you could also while away some time by playing Hangman, as we did in a restaurant.  How smug we felt entertaining our children without devices.  How short-lived this was when the waiter noticed the words 'poo pants' written on the pad.

PE (joyously this is still PE!)

The one thing that I *love* about the holidays is that the children get a hell of a lot more outdoor exercise than during an average week at school.  The only challenge is that more often than not this exercise needs to be undertaken as a family.  Which means negotiation, bribery, arguments, fighting and occasional crying.  What begins as a simple bike ride or "just a walk" will morph into an hour of misery but like with all tough work outs, once you've busted through that wall you will find yourselves enjoying a tremendous sense of achievement (and ideally a pint).  If you want to avoid the misery, the solution is to go with friends - there is something about the children being around other kids that seems to silence the whining button in a way that offering encouragement / threatening a tech ban / shovelling Haribos into their hands will never do.

If you want to ride this route without whining - just add friends :)

Music

As neither of us play an instrument, our ability to influence our children's musical tastes begins and ends with playing what we like.  We keep BBC 6 Music on the radio and if we can be arsed to connect up the iPod, they'll hear mostly indie rock, dance and (heavily edited) hip-hop.  

All this counts for nothing however as we have discovered to our great dismay.  What the children have decided is all they want to listen to is Heart.  Which means that the soundtrack to your holiday will be Shy Guy by Diana King which they seem to play on the hour, every hour.  I think Diana puts it best when she says: "Oh lord have mercy, mercy, mercy......"

Your children may also decide to search the iTunes with their friends for Cake by the Ocean by DNCE.  Did you know that it's got a version including the word "f*cking"?  Neither did I.  But now I do.  And so do you.

Sex Education

Whether on holiday or not, we all run the risk of being caught 'in flagrante' (unless you're camping, I mean seriously are you really going to attempt it when you're separated by a 'wall' that is the thickness of a high-vis vest?) but on returning to our favoured holiday destination this year to discover one of the owners had had a beautiful baby just 7 weeks earlier, our son was most interested to know precisely why he was not going to get a little brother.  Couldn't we just "wish for one"?  Erm...no.

RE

Whatever the lessons contain at school did not quite prepare the children for the moment when on holiday I walked down to the swimming pool which contained a large group of men, women and children of various ages, yet when I got in to the pool the men and teenage boys had mysteriously all disappeared.  I thought for a moment that perhaps I had mistakenly put my costume on back to front (now that would be horrible) but it turned out that we were holidaying at the same place as a family of Orthodox Jews.  So there's me and my girl in our speedo cossies and the ladies in their swimming dresses.  We stared a bit, smiled a bit, chatted a bit about the temperature of the pool and the weather (we were in Devon, it's The Law) and carried on enjoying our respective swims.  

Despite the differences we may have had, I learned that the way you deal with awkward questions is universal.  My husband overheard one of the dads telling his son that he had to get out of the pool "because you just have to".

This holiday has been one of revelations, of family time, of raised voices, big hugs, memorable moments, boredom, excitement, beautiful days and torrential rain, late nights and early mornings (why does our boy not understand what a lie-in is!) but above all, it has been an education.  I think we're all ready to go back to school. 

(Why You Should) Carry On Camping

So we went camping again, this time venturing much farther than our usual New Forest haunts to the delights of North Devon.  You know, that place where it is guaranteed to rain.  We go there every year but stay on a farm.  In a cottage.  Where you do not have to walk across a wet field to go for a wee.

Under normal circumstances we wouldn't travel so far but lured by friends with whom we knew we could pass time without killing each other we went for it and at first it was lovely.  Beautiful sunshine for two days - an actual camping holiday that involved a trip to the beach without wellies - marvellous!

But then the weather remembered that we were on holiday and so sent 48 hours of rain and sea mist which caused one set of friends to go home because their tent decided to have a complete seam failure and us to have to use our fog lights in August.  In fecking August!

Actual August

Here's the weird thing though.  Despite the shitty weather that made us complete and utter martyrs for the remaining two days of the holiday and caused my husband to have to buy Tesco Trainers because he had done the manly thing of packing 'light' and his one pair of shoes got too wet to wear (that'll learn him...), we had a brilliant time and will do it again.  This is because....

1. We are friends with people who have a van.  And an awning.

Our tent has an awning.  Oh yes.  But it is not attached to a beautiful watertight vehicle that has optics and a dvd player in it.  I don't care if you think this is cheating because when your children have trenchfoot and you need peace and quiet, you will wish that you too had friends like these.  The children watched Wimpy Kid twice as we drank wine and played cards, which leads me on to....

2. We rediscovered the joy of Gin Rummy

I thought I didn't know this game.  Turns out I did - it has the same rules as every other card game: you must forget whose turn it is because you're too busy talking rubbish to keep track, you must accuse one another of cheating and the person who says that "they're no good at this game" will be a complete liar who wins every round.  We also rediscovered the joy of shops that cater for people who are trapped in one place and so need things to spend their money on.  Things like books about cross-eyed cats and multi-purpose bottle openers with the names of men from the '70s and '80s on.

This is a real book.

Richard *and* Rick? Such choice!

3. We (ok I) completely lost the plot

I blame the fact that one of the cards was a Joker used to replace a missing 9 of Clubs which meant that someone had drawn a Club on top of the Joker's head which would have been fine except that the 'Club' looked like a cock and balls.  That pretty much set the bar for the conversation which then turned into ways in which to create enormous confusion and chaos when living in a shared house that Vic & Bob would have been proud of involving UV paint, security lights and menacing gnomes.  It's been a while since I pulled a 'crying and laughing at the same time' face.  It reminded me that I need more nights like that.

4. We had the absolute best of British entertainment

You know when you're in a barn with a bar and soft play area, and a Britain's Got Talent semi-finalist walks in, juggles knives, balances a pub table on his chin and then risks drowning by having a diver's helmet put on his head and filled with water while he tries to escape from chains.  All whilst stood in an Angry Birds paddling pool so he doesn't get the floor wet?  YES THAT!!  We saw Merlin.  He's a bloody legend.  He's so much of a legend that we saw him twice.  

Just your average morning in a barn..

5. We had the absolute best of British entertainment (again)

We were planning on taking the kids to Disney at some point and have since changed our mind because we have had all the theme park fun we every need at The Milky Way.  Why fly for 10 hours to then spend a week of queuing for hours for high tech rides when you can have an 'alien experience' where you are led through the dark by a teenager from Bideford who knows they can't kid you that you're on an 'abandoned alien spacecraft' because everyone knows that you're really in some kind of blacked-out shipping container but your children will still freak out because confined dark spaces are scary.  

And why bother with virtual reality rides and Lucas Film / Disney approved 'experiences' when you can see someone's personal collection of Star Wars memorabilia which includes a spooky Luke Skywalker model and Ewok toys still in their packets!

Bez Skywalker?

Our son went on a roller coaster that he has waited five years to go on (yep, we go every year!) and as we watched through the sea mist we could just about see his beaming face as he passed the "are you taller than the red line" test to ride at the very front with his sister.  It didn't  matter to him where we were - he had made it!  

We watched a falconer who will not let you touch his birds because he is not into pissing off owls but is into getting them to swoop low over your head.  We sat right next to one of the perches to get the best view and recited his set with him, enjoying the familiarity of his spiel.

We saw Merlin (again!) and wondered how much a good sword-juggling escapologist gets paid these days.  Whatever it is we suspect it's not enough....

And so....

And so, despite the fact that every time we go camping we all end up moaning at the weather / our complete inability to pack properly  / the incredible noise and lack of sleep that combine to make you feel like you're hallucinating in the mornings / the fact you have to put the bloody tent up when you get home in order to dry it out because Britain is not the South of France.....we're going to go again.  If you're teetering on the brink of giving up too, give it just one more try - let's Carry on Camping!

Black Friday

For some Black Friday is a shopping idyll
Where you can buy everything that you 'need'
When the whole world turns into a Lidl
And we follow like dogs on a lead

Every advert that tells us "slashed prices"
Every promise "save 80 percent"
You can go get an asbo in ASDA
Queues form early - you may need a tent

You can fight over tellys in Tesco
Maraud over mascara in Boots
Or if you're a bit more upmarket
Go to Harrods and fight over suits

You can head out to Next just as dawn breaks
Fix your mind set to "that sparkly-top-that-is-half-price-with-a-slight-snag" is MINE!"
Park your car like it's just been abandoned
And hope that you don't get a fine

Or give all your money to Amazon
Have the boxes all sent your house
Shed your entire month's salary
With one little click of a mouse

Image from jacobreed.net

These bargains won't be there tomorrow
These deals, they will not exist
These items, they won't buy themselves you know
But this shopping tale comes with a twist

You know when Black Friday is over
When your cupboards are bulging with stuff
When you think "yep, everyone's sorted
I've definitely bought enough"

There'll be an email in your inbox
A banner ad that will make you wail
And an ad on the tv announcing
"Good news people - we're having a sale!"

Five things to do - for free - in the school holidays

School holidays are expensive - even if you're not heading off for a week in the Canaries.  The expense is inconsistent too: a day at Legoland will sting you for at least £70 even if you have collected your cereal packet vouchers; two hours at the cinema will cost you close to £30 for an adult and two children, but one of the local holiday clubs near me (why aren't they called 'play schemes' anymore?) charges only £11 per child for 5 hours.  Whichever way you turn it's going to cost.

So, in an attempt not to hemorrhage money this summer, I thought I'd rack my brains for those times when my children have enjoyed themselves, and it hasn't cost me a penny.  Here's my top five:

Mmm.....delicious!

1. Let them make a 'potion'

Give the kids a bowl or jar and (almost) free reign to put what they like into it. When it's complete, decant the potion into a used water bottle and 'voila' your very own 'marvellous medicine'.  It will be disgusting but you will get at least 30 minutes peace.

Warning: Before you attempt this - make sure you've put the good stuff away or your favourite hand cream is going to go missing (as I discovered here).

2. Funny face drawing game

Beautiful - no?

Get a sheet of paper, fold it in three and take it in turns to draw parts of a face.  Warning can be addictive - you may need a ream of paper.

Double warning this can get very silly, very quickly - watch out for the addition of "wee and poo" to the character that you've worked so very hard to render accurately.

3. Tickets Please!

This is a much loved game in our family (read more here).  We play it using our slide - but you don't need a slide to do it!  Here's how it works:

• You are the ticket inspector - it is your job to inspect your child's 'ticket' (real or imaginary, either will do) and decide whether they are allowed to pass (down the slide in our case).
• You never, ever allow your child to pass on the first go.  You must inspect the ticket, then explain in outraged voice why you cannot let them pass because their ticket is out of date / for a different mode of transport / poo-stained.
• Once you decide to let them pass, you must let them think they've got away with it before exclaiming "Hey!  That ticket says Mickey Mouse / is a used chip wrapper / is poo-stained!"
• You then chase them around the house / garden / park until they are back at the start.

4. Shout at your children in a foreign accent

This game started in our family when we found ourselves stuck in a caravan with no tv on a very wet day.  Having become frustrated at the children's failure to listen to me shouting at them not to play with the pull-out bed, I thought I'd give it a go whilst using a German accent (and the handful of German words that I know).  It resulted in unexpected hilarity and gave us a welcome respite from playing Uno for the 130th time.  

Note: You don't need to speak a second / third / fourth (okay, okay uber-talented linguist) language to succeed in this game, but you do need to shout it like you believe it.  

5. If all else fails.....give them an Argos catalogue

Who needs the internet
when you've got one of these?

I reckon Argos could compete with serious publishing houses for the amount of print that they produce...and the popularity of their free doorstop-sized shopping bibles.  This popularity seems not to have waned with the advent of the digital generation - my children love them more than the internet!  And far from turning them into mad consumers it has actually made them aware of how much things cost, encouraged conversations about saving, and there is the extra bonus that there is absolutely no risk of them clicking a link and adding twelve Lego Death Star kits to my basket.

Warning: You need one per child or all out war will start.  No-one wants to be given the furniture section whilst the other one gets the toys....


Well those are my top five - perhaps not quite enough to get us all the way through the holidays but it's a start - if you've got anymore let me know!


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National Trust

If this summer holiday
You feel it is a must
To pack your kids into the car
And visit a National Trust

I'm duty-bound to warn you
It won't be like the ads
Full of Boden Mummies
And earnest, smiling dads

You won't glide around the gardens

I'm smiling because I'm hiding from my children...
at Basildon Park NT

In a state of familial bliss
Your children won't marvel at nature
What will actually happen is this:

One of them will say "boooring"
And "I can see that statue's bum!"
And "This place smells of dog farts"
You will pretend not to be their mum

It will probably rain on your picnic
And your child will lose a shoe
Then get a splinter in their finger
Then announce "I NEED A POO!"

They'll probably drop their ice cream
Then try to eat it off the floor
Or leave a sticky handprint
On an antique painted door

And the kindly National Trust staff
Will never, ever shout
But you know that they are thinking
"Get those bloody children out"

You'll shout out "Put that cup down!"
And "don't sit on the chairs!"
"The piano is NOT FOR TOUCHING!"
And "no running on the stairs!"

All you wanted was a day out...
And all you did was moan
The trick to visiting the National Trust
Is to go on your own

What Camping and Business Travel Have in Common

Now *that's* what I call a room with a view!

Not so long ago I wouldn't have set foot inside a tent.  The aversion to canvas was in part formed by an early experience with the Brownies where we camped on a rugby pitch in Abergavenny; one of our party had (to put it delicately) a "very upset tummy", the rest of us were just "very upset".  It was also informed by a strong desire to avail of as many 5* hotel experiences as possible - which, as it turns out, was a very good plan as once children arrived, the cash with which to do this vanished under an ocean of costs associated with sports clubs and the buying of shoes every six months.

Camping during half-term saw our family celebrate a full year of tent-ownership and a reflection on quite how far we have come during the space of a year which began with borrowing a tent, and ended with us owning not just a tent, but an awning, several flash gadgets and a habit for campsites that come with great facilities.  What began as a way to holiday cheaply has resulted in something that is not too far off business travel because....

Small = smart

I once managed a week in Washington with just carry-on luggage (ok, Business Class carry-on but it still counts!).  Miniature toiletries, layering of separates, strategically positioned shoes to maximise space, anything to avoid queuing for hours at a carousel or the magical game that is wondering whether your luggage will reach the same destination as you.... This habit has now transformed into the decanting of shampoo into small bottles, sleeping bags that fold into teeny pockets and collapsible colanders (who knew the joy that little gadget would bring?!)

A little luxury goes a long way

Duty free used to be my guilty pleasure, especially the Chanel handbag-size atomisers - the joy!  Some people won't travel without a scented candle for their hotel room (I never once did that, but I get why you would), others insist on a glass of champagne after take-off (I definitely did that).  For camping this transforms into good wine, proper cutlery, farm shop burgers and cheeseboards.  Our friend once brought a glass cloche to protect, display and serve a rather nice cake from.  It was a crazily fragile thing to take into a field full of children and guy ropes but not one of us did not appreciate its beauty over a Tupperware pot.

You will covet other peoples stuff

On a business trip it's all about admiring your neighbour's shoes / laptop bag / Luis Vuitton toiletry bag.  Back when we had to room with other people at conferences I tried on my roommate's Manolo Blahniks while she was out.  Upon her return I confessed to my terrible behaviour. And then she let me try them on again - yay!    

Now we remark favourably on our friends' camping stoves, tent carpets and camping mats, and harbour ambitions to one day own a kitchen stand.  It will be ours...

The day hasn't started unless coffee has been served

Mega hangovers thanks to dinner with clients, all-nighters, being woken by what sounds like a concrete mixer (when in fact it is deer nibbling at grass) or having to take your child for a wee in the dark several times during the night.  All of these fade away with the first cup of strong, hot coffee.

The feeling when you get home

Whether it's a five day business trip to the US requiring inordinate amounts of smiling nicely at customers and a cast-iron constitution, or a long weekend of fresh air and outdoor pursuits with your family, both of these things are true:

1. You will feel like you need a holiday afterwards   
2. There is nothing like your own bed!

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Oh I do like to be beside the seaside.....

Never mind all the fuss about the "beach body ready" ads, if you've got small children then there are far more important things to be worrying about than fitting into a minuscule yellow bikini.  Here are the questions I'll be asking myself before we head to the seaside this summer:

Have I got three lots of sunscreen?

One tube to use as soon as you arrive, a second tube because the first one will get dropped in the sand rendering it impossible to apply without exfoliating your children, and a third to use because the second one has only got a teaspoon of sunscreen in it because it's last year's and you didn't check it before you left.

Are the buckets and spades the same size and colour?

The ad they should have run..

"I want the castle-shaped bucket!" 
"No it's my turn to have the castle-shaped bucket!" 
"Mummy; Daddy promised me I could have the castle-shaped bucket!!!" 
Don't let this happen to you - it will end in tears and expense and you can bet the only castle-shaped bucket left in the beach shop is larger than the one you already have....

Have I packed enough carrier bags?

Wet clothes, soiled clothes, nappies, cheese sandwiches that have been left out in the sun, the trainer that fell victim to dog poo.  You don't want any of these working their way unguarded into your bag - they make for terrible discoveries after a four hour drive home in a roasting hot car.

Have I packed a book and a magazine?

Don't kid yourself that you're going to get to read either of them - you'll need the book as a weight for the corner of your picnic blanket.  The magazine should be pre-rolled to hit wasps with / use as a megaphone to beckon your children out of the sea, because at some point during your adult years your tolerance for the temperature of British sea water has dropped to zero.

How much would it cost to hire a donkey?

What with walking miles to find the "right spot", hauling a windbreak and mallet (I cannot believe that forms part of my beach packing - the glamour!), needing to give at least one child a piggy back, carrying a cool bag, beach bag and rucksack filled with towels that will be twice as heavy by the end of the day because everything will be soaking wet, I am seriously thinking about making the investment before my back gives out.

Have I stamped on my sunglasses?

You might as well do it in advance.


Given that family trips to the seaside are technically a feat of endurance, I'll settle for the small triumph that is being able to drop my tired body into a picnic chair with a drink that doesn't have sand in it.  Oh wait - the chairs.....we forgot the flipping chairs!!


Soundtrack: I Do Like to Be Beside the Seaside by John A. Glover-Kind

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