Sabotage Review/ Saboteur Awards


My novella got shortlisted for a Saboteur Award at the end of May. It didn’t win, but I got  Sabotage Review, which means a lot to me.


I am Stimulating Company

Family, Stimulating Conversation

Tomorrow my son is coming over to collect a painting I bought off him last year. It’s one of the several artworks of his selected for a group art show in London. I’m a proud parent.
I’m looking forward to seeing him, and as you can see from the photo I took on a recent visit, he will be looking forward to a stimulating conversation with me: the whole family hang on my every word.

Olivia’s Story

art, book, story

This drawing is one I made for Olivia’s Story, which appears in my book:

Art of Rescue, Various Authors, Ed. Karen Little

The dog belongs to my editor Eve Arroyo, and this is her story:
Olivia is a mini-schnauzer. She’s white so there may be some other genes in her pool. Her story is that when she was about one-year-old she fell from a second story roof and broke her leg. Apparently, her owners just abandoned her.

Eventually, she ended up at a private animal shelter where her leg was repaired, but because of nerve damage, they had to amputate it.

We arrived at the shelter, coincidentally two weeks after her surgery, with specific wants: female, young (preferable a puppy), non-shedding, and small. After losing my big dog earlier that year I was ready for a lapdog.

The young man showed us several big dogs, but I was clear I wanted a small dog. He went to talk to someone and came back saying he had the perfect dog: female, four-months-old (it turns out she was actually a year old), ten pounds, doesn’t shed, and, oh, yeah, she only has three legs!

It was love at first sight! She is a very happy, and loving little girl. She’s practically glued to my side or lap when I sit down. She’s very well behaved, and is so happy when we have company. She just loves everyone she meets.


Talking to Blog is like Talking to Dog


I’m giving the dogs a break by talking to Blog. Dogs are very thankful; they can get on with worrying about where their next treat is coming from instead of whether or not my sanity is intact.
The Advent calendars are finished and I’m pleased as a fish in a coral reef. Last time I made them was with my nephews, but who needs nephews when you can make Advent calendars without them?
I realised today, after being sober for Eleven Days, that my really hopeless memory is not down to wine; it’s just a hopeless memory. I can remember things that happened a while ago, but not five minutes ago. Luckily I write stuff down, often illegibly, always mixing the vital with the irrelevant. But hey, it’s a system. And the purpose of this blog. A legible post it note. In case you were wondering. Or I was.