For those fans who watch 'Who do you think you are, might be interested in my family connections. First of all, who eats the odd Hovis loaf from time to time, the creation of Richard Stoney Smith who set up the process in Macclesfield in the latter part of the nineteenth and early twentieth century. This is largely through my paternal grandparents, at least my grandmother's cousin who was my godmother's mother for when the baker arrived on one occasion, the mother called out to the daughter, mind you keep it in the family. Oh incidentally, I learned also that Robert Lindsay, the actor was alsol distantly related when in the mid eighties I was watching the Terry Wogan show. Terry happened to mention the matter to Robert Lindsay when speaking to him while the latter was in Broadway, taking part in Me and My Gal.
Anyone been to Belvoir castle in Northamptonshire? Well near the top of the stairs, I believe there is a bust of my great aunt, my maternal great grandmother's sister who was the housekeeper to the Duke of Rutland and I believe,had a child through him, to use the unfortunatel colloquial expression, born on the wrong side of the blanket
On my father's side of the family, of which I only have a vague sketchy knowledge of my antecedents is that an uncle of my father's served quite high up in Scotland Yard and I think his son, Ian also served in the Met at New Scotland Yard. A cousin of his, was Dudley Nourse or Nurse, was a famous cricketer who played for South Africa.
Tuesday, 1 February 2011
Tuesday, 28 December 2010
'Blow this year right out of my head
This is a corruption of the song from South Pacific 'I want to wash that man right out of my head. So what has this year been like for everyone? Good, bad,curate's egg, indifferent. I won't bore you with all the details completely but I can safetly say that 2010 can hardly be categorised as one of the best by any means what with change of government to a hung parliament then coalition which has hardly lived up to everyone's expectations.
The beginning of the year, hailed a bit of sorting out of my files and office space spurred on by the fact that the top drawer of my MFI filing cabinet had indicated that it had reached the end of the line so armed with a large pink bag, I set to, clearing out both filing cabinets in between trying to write as well.
Like all New Year's, there were challenges and highlights. The first of them finding myself on Workwise through JC+ There had been hopes that I would be able to set up but August put a shelving on that idea but more about that later. May or was it June, I purchased a second hand filing cabinet from a local overseas charity that sells medical equipment abroad. It is a four door job, each named. The other one in the lobble was sorted and renamed with the help of my PC. My mother's comments were very complimentary so it has been worthwhile. The other two drawers store my wire trays, scrapbooks and other writing paraphenalia. Yes there were little high points for I purchased some twinlocks from the local office supplies out the outskirts of town, returning from Bury by a different route where I saw the most glorious view against a mid spring lemon coloured skyline, bringing out the best in the English countryside after a hard winter, not this one at present has been that great.
July, we had a day out with a friend of mine from Open University days then the following day, Ulli, my other uni friend arrived. That had been expected. We arranged some accommodation locally then on Saturday, I joined her and the kids on a visit to Stowe
August, I enrolled on to an evening course in creative writing at the local learning centre, that was the high point but blighted on the Sunday the fifteenth when I suddenly became unwell. The day before, our Burmese cat went awol so knowing what cats can be like, curious and all that, I walked down to the entrance of our field, naive to a very unpleasant small danger. I had wellies but no socks on alas for unbeknown to me, I was bitten by a very nasty insect called a Blandford fly, resulting in cellulitis and now lymphedema. Its immediate effects were more startling ranging from a feverish high temperature to involuntary shivers, a foot the size of a rugby ball. The long and short of it, I had to leave Workwise to recover properly. I am now appealing to get my Employment Assistance benefit back yet I am not trying also to seek work I can do from home
The dreadful weather, two lots of snow, my aunt being less than well has culminated in a year that can hardly be classed as ideal. Now thankfully the festive season is slowly drawing to a close, New Year's Day on Saturday.
So what are your feelings about 2011? Anticipation, apprehension perhaps. Maybe both of these 'A' words mixed into one. Hardly surprising perhaps as these are common thoughts that run through the minds of everyone. Challenges I am sure there will be but let us raise our glasses in hope for another year that will be less of an annus horrabulis Happy New Year everybody
The beginning of the year, hailed a bit of sorting out of my files and office space spurred on by the fact that the top drawer of my MFI filing cabinet had indicated that it had reached the end of the line so armed with a large pink bag, I set to, clearing out both filing cabinets in between trying to write as well.
Like all New Year's, there were challenges and highlights. The first of them finding myself on Workwise through JC+ There had been hopes that I would be able to set up but August put a shelving on that idea but more about that later. May or was it June, I purchased a second hand filing cabinet from a local overseas charity that sells medical equipment abroad. It is a four door job, each named. The other one in the lobble was sorted and renamed with the help of my PC. My mother's comments were very complimentary so it has been worthwhile. The other two drawers store my wire trays, scrapbooks and other writing paraphenalia. Yes there were little high points for I purchased some twinlocks from the local office supplies out the outskirts of town, returning from Bury by a different route where I saw the most glorious view against a mid spring lemon coloured skyline, bringing out the best in the English countryside after a hard winter, not this one at present has been that great.
July, we had a day out with a friend of mine from Open University days then the following day, Ulli, my other uni friend arrived. That had been expected. We arranged some accommodation locally then on Saturday, I joined her and the kids on a visit to Stowe
August, I enrolled on to an evening course in creative writing at the local learning centre, that was the high point but blighted on the Sunday the fifteenth when I suddenly became unwell. The day before, our Burmese cat went awol so knowing what cats can be like, curious and all that, I walked down to the entrance of our field, naive to a very unpleasant small danger. I had wellies but no socks on alas for unbeknown to me, I was bitten by a very nasty insect called a Blandford fly, resulting in cellulitis and now lymphedema. Its immediate effects were more startling ranging from a feverish high temperature to involuntary shivers, a foot the size of a rugby ball. The long and short of it, I had to leave Workwise to recover properly. I am now appealing to get my Employment Assistance benefit back yet I am not trying also to seek work I can do from home
The dreadful weather, two lots of snow, my aunt being less than well has culminated in a year that can hardly be classed as ideal. Now thankfully the festive season is slowly drawing to a close, New Year's Day on Saturday.
So what are your feelings about 2011? Anticipation, apprehension perhaps. Maybe both of these 'A' words mixed into one. Hardly surprising perhaps as these are common thoughts that run through the minds of everyone. Challenges I am sure there will be but let us raise our glasses in hope for another year that will be less of an annus horrabulis Happy New Year everybody
Wednesday, 17 November 2010
Hail to thee, William and Kate[Catherine]
Unless you have just had a holiday on another planet, you do not need prizes in guessing what I am about to talk about which is on everyone's lips, the new Royal engaged couple. What I say is hail to you both and many congratulations,I hope you have a happy wonderful life. Also this is just the tonic the country needs to see two very happy people looking forward to their married lives together.
However, not surprisingly, this has created a battle ground of verbosity between the republicans and the royalists, I for one on the side of the latter have put my point across in their support for contrary to republican views which sadly are growing in number, state that the royal family are an expenditure we cannot afford. This growing jaundiced view to me, is extremely sad, in fact reading some of the comments on the internet I found ridiculously laughable, such as oppression of the population. In my view, they have been reading too much Tolstoy and other Russian novelists. I never read so much Horlicks in all my life. Sadly Writer's News Talkback are not devoid of a few republicans so perhaps the time has come to put a few of these die hard republicans in their place and to consider their good fortune.
OK, yes we have a democracy and free speech, and all that but perhaps these republicans should read or listen to what is happening in some of the more sinister republican countries, Burma, Zimbabwe,Hungary,China where if the government does not like your face, let alone what you write, you can be thrown into prison and even tortured for your views, yes, I repeat tortured. I am not saying Britain is perfect but then no country can truly boast that but it is stable compared to many, in fact take a look at Norway, Denmark, Sweden and Holland, and yes, Spain, what do they have, that's right, you have probably guessed, a royal family. There are republics, including America who adore our royal family, Germany is all over the place, cock a hoop according to their press that we are going to have a royal wedding for they would dearly love to have one and did of sorts but they were made up of a series of disparate states. Russia had one until the Bolsheviks assasinated the Tsar and his family, who incidentally was a cousin of George V. Look what happened there when it became a Soviet Republic under Lenin then Stalin. Think a little closer, look at Czechoslovakia, invaded two or three times.
Did we have a republic, of course we did, under Cromwell, and you would hardly call that a howling success, quite the contrary in fact which is why the monarchy was restored with Charles II. Our monarchy contrary to the propoganda put out by republicans,the most ardent one that comes to mind, the Glaswegian Willy Hamilton now long since dead, work very hard. Yes, OK, the Queen who, bless her worked all through the war, remember in the ATS, repairing army vehicles etc and has since worked her socks off throughout her reign, is taking it easier now and so she should. Prince Charles and Princess Ann really earn their privvy purse and now Edward is having to do his share, quite right too. Both Charles's boys are in the services,one of them, Harry god bless him too, went out to Afghanistan, the rights and wrongs of it is irrelevant here but the fact he wanted to do his bit should make the republicans sit up and reflect, not only that he has been responsible for the campaign charity, Help the Heroes. Both of the princes have been involved in their natural mother's charities.
I am also tired of the bitching against Prince Charles who has done much to turn people's lives around,especially the young with the Trust, even helping to create businesses and also for older people. His food products are now sold in Waitrose as they have formed a partnership so I would like to raise a toast to our Royals then spit in the eye of those stingy mingy republicans
However, not surprisingly, this has created a battle ground of verbosity between the republicans and the royalists, I for one on the side of the latter have put my point across in their support for contrary to republican views which sadly are growing in number, state that the royal family are an expenditure we cannot afford. This growing jaundiced view to me, is extremely sad, in fact reading some of the comments on the internet I found ridiculously laughable, such as oppression of the population. In my view, they have been reading too much Tolstoy and other Russian novelists. I never read so much Horlicks in all my life. Sadly Writer's News Talkback are not devoid of a few republicans so perhaps the time has come to put a few of these die hard republicans in their place and to consider their good fortune.
OK, yes we have a democracy and free speech, and all that but perhaps these republicans should read or listen to what is happening in some of the more sinister republican countries, Burma, Zimbabwe,Hungary,China where if the government does not like your face, let alone what you write, you can be thrown into prison and even tortured for your views, yes, I repeat tortured. I am not saying Britain is perfect but then no country can truly boast that but it is stable compared to many, in fact take a look at Norway, Denmark, Sweden and Holland, and yes, Spain, what do they have, that's right, you have probably guessed, a royal family. There are republics, including America who adore our royal family, Germany is all over the place, cock a hoop according to their press that we are going to have a royal wedding for they would dearly love to have one and did of sorts but they were made up of a series of disparate states. Russia had one until the Bolsheviks assasinated the Tsar and his family, who incidentally was a cousin of George V. Look what happened there when it became a Soviet Republic under Lenin then Stalin. Think a little closer, look at Czechoslovakia, invaded two or three times.
Did we have a republic, of course we did, under Cromwell, and you would hardly call that a howling success, quite the contrary in fact which is why the monarchy was restored with Charles II. Our monarchy contrary to the propoganda put out by republicans,the most ardent one that comes to mind, the Glaswegian Willy Hamilton now long since dead, work very hard. Yes, OK, the Queen who, bless her worked all through the war, remember in the ATS, repairing army vehicles etc and has since worked her socks off throughout her reign, is taking it easier now and so she should. Prince Charles and Princess Ann really earn their privvy purse and now Edward is having to do his share, quite right too. Both Charles's boys are in the services,one of them, Harry god bless him too, went out to Afghanistan, the rights and wrongs of it is irrelevant here but the fact he wanted to do his bit should make the republicans sit up and reflect, not only that he has been responsible for the campaign charity, Help the Heroes. Both of the princes have been involved in their natural mother's charities.
I am also tired of the bitching against Prince Charles who has done much to turn people's lives around,especially the young with the Trust, even helping to create businesses and also for older people. His food products are now sold in Waitrose as they have formed a partnership so I would like to raise a toast to our Royals then spit in the eye of those stingy mingy republicans
Sunday, 23 August 2009
Collecting and research and be green as well
Right, how many collect antiques, stamps, postcards,whatever. The sky is your limit isn't it? I collect postcards, loads of them and I dare say in forty or so years time, they could be valuable. However there is another use for them I bet nobody has thought of, or perhaps few maybe. They can aid descriptions of places as an aide to memoire so it is worth dividing them up into categories such as foreign, people, animals, portraits, national. You can either buy yourself one of those index card boxes or you can purloin a washing tablet box one used to hold cat food - if you are into recycling as I am and trying to be green ecologically - yes you can still write and care for the planet. That really could serve as an article in itself. Get some dividing cards or make your own and categorize the sections so if you are looking for something foreign, you have a pretty good idea where it is.
As I probably said before, do not throw away willy nilly, any old supplement periodicals, there might be some background information for a novel that would be useful to research. A year or more ago, I was given a photocopier. It was intended for the River Stour Trust but as they have one a donation was sent so I photocopied items that would be useful but keep your eye on the local paper as some surprising things can come up for sale. I would not know what to do without my photocopier although the refils can be expensive. I will give you a health and safety warning however, when you change the filter which is a slim item with a foam, do not touch the motor mechanism where you slip it in. I did so inadvertently when it was quite hot and burned the tip of my thumb. Again, store in a box or filing cabinet if you have one or a ringbinder, divide into sections and regard it as an encyclopaedia or research resource. In short, you need to become a kleptomaniac of ephemera in a way if you are truly in love with your craft.
As I probably said before, do not throw away willy nilly, any old supplement periodicals, there might be some background information for a novel that would be useful to research. A year or more ago, I was given a photocopier. It was intended for the River Stour Trust but as they have one a donation was sent so I photocopied items that would be useful but keep your eye on the local paper as some surprising things can come up for sale. I would not know what to do without my photocopier although the refils can be expensive. I will give you a health and safety warning however, when you change the filter which is a slim item with a foam, do not touch the motor mechanism where you slip it in. I did so inadvertently when it was quite hot and burned the tip of my thumb. Again, store in a box or filing cabinet if you have one or a ringbinder, divide into sections and regard it as an encyclopaedia or research resource. In short, you need to become a kleptomaniac of ephemera in a way if you are truly in love with your craft.
Saturday, 22 August 2009
How to collect and store ideas for your writing
Well, I promised I would be back and here I am so let us get down to business. Hands up any of you who have suffered from writer's block. Yes OK, everyone is told to carry around a notebook to record your thoughts and observations but what about this idea, typing them out so you can actually read them. How often have you looked at something a few days later and cannot for the life of you read, let alone recollect what it was about?
The next question is where to store them, create your own book of ideas or diary. I say diary because each idea can be allocated in the month you thought or had that brilliant brainwave for an article or piece of fiction. For a start, buy yourself or acquire second hand, a large ringbinder if you want prefer to be green. Perhaps your workplace is getting rid of their old ones so if they are in reasonably good nick, that means the ring clasps are not strained beyond repair or use, then ask if you can buy them perhaps. Ask if your company has a special charity they support so you can donate a reasonable amount of money in exchange. Now divide your folder into twelve months of the year, label them appropriately, January to December. You can do a separate one for non fiction if you prefer but believe me, you will be surprised how this fills up. Next time you have that wonderful flash of inspiration, jot it down in your little notebook and type it up as soon as you can.
In the Writer's Bureau, the general suggestion amongst many is to look at your newspapers but there are other forms of media as well, even commercials might give you a jolt. Here is an example to perhaps consider perhaps. About ten years, there was a Ski yoghurt commercial featuring young children enjoying the flavour, there was one cute little boy kneeling on the grass in his garden, his mother or father comes out with a yoghurt pot, he is jumping around with joy but my imagination started working, what happened before, there was a look as if he was being compensated for something, had he been unfairly blamed for something he had not done and his parents were saying sorry when it was discovered who the real culprit was, perhaps his older sister. Had the child been through a medical ordeal, had a minor operation or treatment of some kind? What about programmes such as Location Location Location, Escape to the Country, Grand Designs, Property Ladder, the list is endless but observe their behaviour closely. These programmes may pick the worst of people in most people's opinions but human psychology is quite enlightning, ask yourself how you would behave if the house you earned for, fell through for example or your feelings if your decision to build in a certain way did not tally with the estate agents and they gave you a lower assessment in terms of cost or someone objected to your plans to the local authority so you could not do an extension, perhaps there might be an aesthetic reason but maybe your neighbour had been denied the right and he or she is jealous of your plans. There is always an underlying motive - getting the drift? The current situation in Afghanistan with so many mothers, wives and fiances loosing loved ones. While it is painful to see, envisage what might be going on behind the scenes. Again, study human behaviour. Sometimes I am lucky when going into our local town to get a ringside seat in our local car park while I wait for my mother to do her shopping, people come and go, some have children in push chairs or if they are old enough to walk, helping with taking bags out, do the mothers look harrassed, perhaps their husbands are bringing home the boss to entertain in the hope of promotion - you think that does not happen, think again. Imagine what their homes might be like, maybe if it is Christmas or Easter, relatives are coming, children are excited with the prospect of Father Christmas or Easter eggs, depending on the season. Are they docile and co operative or are they harranguing their parents for anorthorized treat, perhaps the parents don't believe in such things for fear of spoiling them on any account. Last night for instance, I was watching Place in the Sun, at Home or the USA. The couple concerned were deciding whether to buy at home or America, they both said that they centred their life around their children. Now whether or not you feel it is right for children to manipulate your minds, that is up to you but that could be the focus for a story or article. Remember what Shakespeare said in As you Like it, 'All the world's a stage and all the people are players' How true this is, whether you are outside in town or watching television, look beyond the actual picture. Remember, even in an art gallery, there is far more in the picture than what you immediately see which is one of the reasons you should never go up to the canvas, you step back.
I hope that this has given some food for thought when you sit down one day and think 'Oh lor' what can I write about today. Next time, I am going to consider collecting information for research and sources to consider - in other words, do not dismiss the humble picture postcard, there is far more than you think!
The next question is where to store them, create your own book of ideas or diary. I say diary because each idea can be allocated in the month you thought or had that brilliant brainwave for an article or piece of fiction. For a start, buy yourself or acquire second hand, a large ringbinder if you want prefer to be green. Perhaps your workplace is getting rid of their old ones so if they are in reasonably good nick, that means the ring clasps are not strained beyond repair or use, then ask if you can buy them perhaps. Ask if your company has a special charity they support so you can donate a reasonable amount of money in exchange. Now divide your folder into twelve months of the year, label them appropriately, January to December. You can do a separate one for non fiction if you prefer but believe me, you will be surprised how this fills up. Next time you have that wonderful flash of inspiration, jot it down in your little notebook and type it up as soon as you can.
In the Writer's Bureau, the general suggestion amongst many is to look at your newspapers but there are other forms of media as well, even commercials might give you a jolt. Here is an example to perhaps consider perhaps. About ten years, there was a Ski yoghurt commercial featuring young children enjoying the flavour, there was one cute little boy kneeling on the grass in his garden, his mother or father comes out with a yoghurt pot, he is jumping around with joy but my imagination started working, what happened before, there was a look as if he was being compensated for something, had he been unfairly blamed for something he had not done and his parents were saying sorry when it was discovered who the real culprit was, perhaps his older sister. Had the child been through a medical ordeal, had a minor operation or treatment of some kind? What about programmes such as Location Location Location, Escape to the Country, Grand Designs, Property Ladder, the list is endless but observe their behaviour closely. These programmes may pick the worst of people in most people's opinions but human psychology is quite enlightning, ask yourself how you would behave if the house you earned for, fell through for example or your feelings if your decision to build in a certain way did not tally with the estate agents and they gave you a lower assessment in terms of cost or someone objected to your plans to the local authority so you could not do an extension, perhaps there might be an aesthetic reason but maybe your neighbour had been denied the right and he or she is jealous of your plans. There is always an underlying motive - getting the drift? The current situation in Afghanistan with so many mothers, wives and fiances loosing loved ones. While it is painful to see, envisage what might be going on behind the scenes. Again, study human behaviour. Sometimes I am lucky when going into our local town to get a ringside seat in our local car park while I wait for my mother to do her shopping, people come and go, some have children in push chairs or if they are old enough to walk, helping with taking bags out, do the mothers look harrassed, perhaps their husbands are bringing home the boss to entertain in the hope of promotion - you think that does not happen, think again. Imagine what their homes might be like, maybe if it is Christmas or Easter, relatives are coming, children are excited with the prospect of Father Christmas or Easter eggs, depending on the season. Are they docile and co operative or are they harranguing their parents for anorthorized treat, perhaps the parents don't believe in such things for fear of spoiling them on any account. Last night for instance, I was watching Place in the Sun, at Home or the USA. The couple concerned were deciding whether to buy at home or America, they both said that they centred their life around their children. Now whether or not you feel it is right for children to manipulate your minds, that is up to you but that could be the focus for a story or article. Remember what Shakespeare said in As you Like it, 'All the world's a stage and all the people are players' How true this is, whether you are outside in town or watching television, look beyond the actual picture. Remember, even in an art gallery, there is far more in the picture than what you immediately see which is one of the reasons you should never go up to the canvas, you step back.
I hope that this has given some food for thought when you sit down one day and think 'Oh lor' what can I write about today. Next time, I am going to consider collecting information for research and sources to consider - in other words, do not dismiss the humble picture postcard, there is far more than you think!
Thursday, 20 August 2009
I am new to blogging so please be kind
Where blogging is concerned I can be classed as a real novice so please be kind. I have from my point of view made one giant step for mankind. No, I have not set foot on the moon or any other planet for that matter. quitethe contrary although some veterans who have been blogging since the idea first started, would perhaps privately think otherwise.
Now my name is Fiona Johnston, those on TB on WN know me as Woll although the real Wol from The House at Pooh Corner by A.A.Milne had one "l" as distinct from two but who is going to be too academic on that score. My parents gave me that nickname when I was issued with a pair of spectacles as my left eye had deteriorated slightly after having chorea when I was nine hence the shape made me look like an owl except they weren't quite as circular as Harry Potter's. Yes we are getting quite literary here aren't we? Still never mind, that is the aim of writing.
Now I can imagine some of you are quite curious as to where I inherited the desire to write so make yourself comfortable for I am going to astound you slightly for I am related to someone quite famous although he died while we were in Portugal. His name was P.R.S Hunt and he was my mother's brother. Although he wrote a few short stories, he specialised largely in horticulture so if any of you are second hand book hounds making a regular visit to your local second hand book shop then there is every chance you might find one or two, especially if some of you might be a little green-fingered perhaps. My aunt, his second wife, Cynthia Newsom Taylor. Now I can recall as a small child, seeking her out in her studio and watching absolutely fascinated by her wonderful drawings. Although I enjoyed art at school, I enjoyed writing compositions in equal measure and it just so happened while I was at boarding school. I found myself inadvertently been incorporated in some small fracas although some of my contemporaries felt that I had nothing to do with it. The prefects, yes that's right I went to a school where they had prefects, sounds like Bunty and all that doesn't it or The Four Mary's for some of you that might remember that comic strip. Probably showing my age but onward I must progress. Well I wrote the essay in my best handwriting, that's it, handwriting, there weren't the gadgets we have today, computers etc. The nearest access to a typewriter was the school secretary's office and that was locked so armed with paper provided, we had to write this essay. I cannot for the life remember what the title was mind you but I do know that it did the rounds among the other prefects. I was on the way to assembly via one of the backstairs when I was briefly waylaid by one of the prefects who had clearly been impressed by my contribution and wanted to know where I inherited my writing talent from. Well, unable to resist such an opportunity, I named my uncle. She smiled, clearly astonished and urged me to pursue my writing in the future. Off and on, I have had a few things published, on one occasion when I was at college down in Dorset, also won a writing contest and even a runner up later on so it was inspiring at least. I also had an article published in The Lady about the ridiculous Health and Safety concerning the photographing of children performing at school by their parents for fear of paedophilia, that was four years ago, at least 2004, might be five - maths was never my forte.
Now I am doing a Writer's Bureau course at present as well as trying to learn to scriptwrite, having come across a book by Barbara Erskine, The House of Echoes - a definite must read if you haven't come across it yet. Also my mother told me a story about her former boyfriend's father who had stole a boat on the French coast before Dunkirk and travelled across The Channel. He had been arrested by the coastguard and police - identified by his uncle who was on secret war work. He had been looked after by an aunt in Saffron Walden until he was old enough to join up and joined the RAF then seconded into British Intelligence to work in the field as they say. He was sent to Oradour sur Glene, famous or infamous for the terrible massacre by the Germans, the women and children were separated and herded into the church which was burned down,the men were shot in garages and sheds. The ruined village still remains although a new one has been built further down. Apparently the cause of this massacre was that two German soldiers had been shot and the village had been rounded up as retaliation. I contacted Twelvepoint who also felt it would make an interesting film. The other day, I also came across something also, equally fascinating and will soon be writing an article about it, The Malinsay Massacre by Dennis Wheatley. Simply by reading the letters, it is clear that the case is true and the background is really intriguing. So if anyone suffers from writer's block, look around you, listen to conversations and stories - Britain has not yet completely abandoned the oral story telling habit. I believe everyone has this ability, it might be a shade embroidered according to experience or what has been told second hand but it is worth pursuing amongst the older generation.
Where do I write, well it is not in a large spare bedroom, at least not yet although Mum is talking about the middle spare landing bedroom eventually - that will be interesting with all my paraphenalia but more about that in a minute. My work area is by the back garden door which is kept open but the three cats are kept in with a wooden and plastic wire trellis so in summer, the area is kept reasonably cool. Now my wooden teak desk I bought in 1977 before I went to Portugal with my parents as my father was appointed Naval and Air Attache in Lisbon - don't please ask me about measurements but for the time being its adequate although the two drawers on the left hand side hold small stationery items, a plastic tray containing treasury tags, pen cartridges, pens, bulldog clips in appropriate small compartments, also spare highlighters, you name it, second draw, notebooks and stickies, chequebook, yes I know it should be at the top but as we always lock the doors at night or when we go to bed, I am not going to get into a sweat about it. Now the top of my desk holds a printer, Hewlett Packard, pen dispensers, wire tray rack, CD player and telephone; that incidentally sat on the shelf but Mum found she could not use it because her ear ring affected its function, it used to switch off. I don't wear such adornments myself, nothing to do with religion, just a miserable coward who is not keen to have one's ears pierced, having an annual blood test audit for a malfunctioning thyroid since I was a baby is quite enough for me to be honest. Also on my desk, is a blue desk lamp, smaller than the last one and easier to move around when irregularly cleaning my desk, that is about twice a year when I find my mind a blank and start writing my name in the dust - joking On top of the printer, is my perpetual calendar in Portuguese with two little drawers, at present has not moved beyond the 15th August because I am too busy to remember. To my right on a white computer desk I bought in the days when I had my Amstrad - that's right, I had one of those and that was in the early nineteen nineties when I was doing the Open University Associate course, a member of the United Nations Association, Outreach Organizer of Christian Aid to name but a few of my activities. Wouldn't the nuns of my convent in Aberdeen been proud. Ah yes Fiona, they would say, no chance of Satan even getting a lookin, let alone tempt you. Yes, we had a reverend mother who believed that students should be thoroughly occupied for almost twenty four hours of the day, give or take eight hours of sleep. Their motto was that the devil found work for idle hands and minds so if anyone was loitering around, they were up to no good - mind you, the terms flashed by. To my left, almost behind me is my teak filing cabinet with three drawers. That is where I keep all manner of files, especially for research which needs an overhaul really but labelled appropriately with the aid of the PC and its clipart. On the window ledge are plastic Yeo Valley cartons containing felt tip pens and scissors, four in a box again labelled with the aid of the above forementioned, Desk Stationery Tidy, the box I found upstairs in the middle bedroom so think hard before chucking - in fact we have all done that all our lives which is why we have such a lot of clobber. Dad is sadly dead but both Mum and Dad lived through a war where you were cautious before throwing out, utilizing where possible and I was born during the Korean War. In fact my Dad nearly volunteered to go out but Mum told him, not on your nellykins as you now have a child, which is myself. I hasten to add that at that time, Dad was in the RAF but left when a certain conservatine Secretary of State for Defence, Duncan Sands had a funny idea, firing missiles from the ground. My father had always wanted to fly so having worked out in Rhodesia[now Zimbabwe] for his wings, it was a case of no way Jose so he changed services and entered the Navy. Take too long at this stage to explain the ins and outs of that, another time perhaps. Sufficient to tell you that my mother well and truly followed the camp wherever Dad was appointed so we initially travelled up and down to Scotland a great deal, living intermittently on the Moray Firth which I noticed has been mentioned on the weather forecast as if it has just been discovered - been on the map for years. The place where he was stationed was HMS Fulmar - now RAF Lossiemouth. I hope I am not treading on anyone's toes here but it does not now have quite the j'nais se quoi or prestige maybe - that is for you to judge but the Navy has always of course been the senior service and it was a Fleet Air Arm station. In all, we had twenty homes. Last night, I chuckled when I watched Location Location Location which featured an army colonel and his family who had eleven - dear heaven I thought, that is almost stationary compared to us. In fact, we started off in East Anglia and despite our various moves, one of them being down in Hampshire, we come full circle. Dad had three spells at the Ministry of Defence.
I hope this will be an interesting and enjoyable read and will add more to my portfolio of writing in the near future, perhaps provide helpful as well as interesting articles, fictional stories and perhaps try out my scriptwriting out on you for your comments. For the present it is as they say across the channel, au revoir if you are French learning English, auf weidersehen if you are German, I do not know what the Dutch is and forgotten the Portuguese, well have a heart, it was nineteen eighty when we left.
Fiona Johnston
Now my name is Fiona Johnston, those on TB on WN know me as Woll although the real Wol from The House at Pooh Corner by A.A.Milne had one "l" as distinct from two but who is going to be too academic on that score. My parents gave me that nickname when I was issued with a pair of spectacles as my left eye had deteriorated slightly after having chorea when I was nine hence the shape made me look like an owl except they weren't quite as circular as Harry Potter's. Yes we are getting quite literary here aren't we? Still never mind, that is the aim of writing.
Now I can imagine some of you are quite curious as to where I inherited the desire to write so make yourself comfortable for I am going to astound you slightly for I am related to someone quite famous although he died while we were in Portugal. His name was P.R.S Hunt and he was my mother's brother. Although he wrote a few short stories, he specialised largely in horticulture so if any of you are second hand book hounds making a regular visit to your local second hand book shop then there is every chance you might find one or two, especially if some of you might be a little green-fingered perhaps. My aunt, his second wife, Cynthia Newsom Taylor. Now I can recall as a small child, seeking her out in her studio and watching absolutely fascinated by her wonderful drawings. Although I enjoyed art at school, I enjoyed writing compositions in equal measure and it just so happened while I was at boarding school. I found myself inadvertently been incorporated in some small fracas although some of my contemporaries felt that I had nothing to do with it. The prefects, yes that's right I went to a school where they had prefects, sounds like Bunty and all that doesn't it or The Four Mary's for some of you that might remember that comic strip. Probably showing my age but onward I must progress. Well I wrote the essay in my best handwriting, that's it, handwriting, there weren't the gadgets we have today, computers etc. The nearest access to a typewriter was the school secretary's office and that was locked so armed with paper provided, we had to write this essay. I cannot for the life remember what the title was mind you but I do know that it did the rounds among the other prefects. I was on the way to assembly via one of the backstairs when I was briefly waylaid by one of the prefects who had clearly been impressed by my contribution and wanted to know where I inherited my writing talent from. Well, unable to resist such an opportunity, I named my uncle. She smiled, clearly astonished and urged me to pursue my writing in the future. Off and on, I have had a few things published, on one occasion when I was at college down in Dorset, also won a writing contest and even a runner up later on so it was inspiring at least. I also had an article published in The Lady about the ridiculous Health and Safety concerning the photographing of children performing at school by their parents for fear of paedophilia, that was four years ago, at least 2004, might be five - maths was never my forte.
Now I am doing a Writer's Bureau course at present as well as trying to learn to scriptwrite, having come across a book by Barbara Erskine, The House of Echoes - a definite must read if you haven't come across it yet. Also my mother told me a story about her former boyfriend's father who had stole a boat on the French coast before Dunkirk and travelled across The Channel. He had been arrested by the coastguard and police - identified by his uncle who was on secret war work. He had been looked after by an aunt in Saffron Walden until he was old enough to join up and joined the RAF then seconded into British Intelligence to work in the field as they say. He was sent to Oradour sur Glene, famous or infamous for the terrible massacre by the Germans, the women and children were separated and herded into the church which was burned down,the men were shot in garages and sheds. The ruined village still remains although a new one has been built further down. Apparently the cause of this massacre was that two German soldiers had been shot and the village had been rounded up as retaliation. I contacted Twelvepoint who also felt it would make an interesting film. The other day, I also came across something also, equally fascinating and will soon be writing an article about it, The Malinsay Massacre by Dennis Wheatley. Simply by reading the letters, it is clear that the case is true and the background is really intriguing. So if anyone suffers from writer's block, look around you, listen to conversations and stories - Britain has not yet completely abandoned the oral story telling habit. I believe everyone has this ability, it might be a shade embroidered according to experience or what has been told second hand but it is worth pursuing amongst the older generation.
Where do I write, well it is not in a large spare bedroom, at least not yet although Mum is talking about the middle spare landing bedroom eventually - that will be interesting with all my paraphenalia but more about that in a minute. My work area is by the back garden door which is kept open but the three cats are kept in with a wooden and plastic wire trellis so in summer, the area is kept reasonably cool. Now my wooden teak desk I bought in 1977 before I went to Portugal with my parents as my father was appointed Naval and Air Attache in Lisbon - don't please ask me about measurements but for the time being its adequate although the two drawers on the left hand side hold small stationery items, a plastic tray containing treasury tags, pen cartridges, pens, bulldog clips in appropriate small compartments, also spare highlighters, you name it, second draw, notebooks and stickies, chequebook, yes I know it should be at the top but as we always lock the doors at night or when we go to bed, I am not going to get into a sweat about it. Now the top of my desk holds a printer, Hewlett Packard, pen dispensers, wire tray rack, CD player and telephone; that incidentally sat on the shelf but Mum found she could not use it because her ear ring affected its function, it used to switch off. I don't wear such adornments myself, nothing to do with religion, just a miserable coward who is not keen to have one's ears pierced, having an annual blood test audit for a malfunctioning thyroid since I was a baby is quite enough for me to be honest. Also on my desk, is a blue desk lamp, smaller than the last one and easier to move around when irregularly cleaning my desk, that is about twice a year when I find my mind a blank and start writing my name in the dust - joking On top of the printer, is my perpetual calendar in Portuguese with two little drawers, at present has not moved beyond the 15th August because I am too busy to remember. To my right on a white computer desk I bought in the days when I had my Amstrad - that's right, I had one of those and that was in the early nineteen nineties when I was doing the Open University Associate course, a member of the United Nations Association, Outreach Organizer of Christian Aid to name but a few of my activities. Wouldn't the nuns of my convent in Aberdeen been proud. Ah yes Fiona, they would say, no chance of Satan even getting a lookin, let alone tempt you. Yes, we had a reverend mother who believed that students should be thoroughly occupied for almost twenty four hours of the day, give or take eight hours of sleep. Their motto was that the devil found work for idle hands and minds so if anyone was loitering around, they were up to no good - mind you, the terms flashed by. To my left, almost behind me is my teak filing cabinet with three drawers. That is where I keep all manner of files, especially for research which needs an overhaul really but labelled appropriately with the aid of the PC and its clipart. On the window ledge are plastic Yeo Valley cartons containing felt tip pens and scissors, four in a box again labelled with the aid of the above forementioned, Desk Stationery Tidy, the box I found upstairs in the middle bedroom so think hard before chucking - in fact we have all done that all our lives which is why we have such a lot of clobber. Dad is sadly dead but both Mum and Dad lived through a war where you were cautious before throwing out, utilizing where possible and I was born during the Korean War. In fact my Dad nearly volunteered to go out but Mum told him, not on your nellykins as you now have a child, which is myself. I hasten to add that at that time, Dad was in the RAF but left when a certain conservatine Secretary of State for Defence, Duncan Sands had a funny idea, firing missiles from the ground. My father had always wanted to fly so having worked out in Rhodesia[now Zimbabwe] for his wings, it was a case of no way Jose so he changed services and entered the Navy. Take too long at this stage to explain the ins and outs of that, another time perhaps. Sufficient to tell you that my mother well and truly followed the camp wherever Dad was appointed so we initially travelled up and down to Scotland a great deal, living intermittently on the Moray Firth which I noticed has been mentioned on the weather forecast as if it has just been discovered - been on the map for years. The place where he was stationed was HMS Fulmar - now RAF Lossiemouth. I hope I am not treading on anyone's toes here but it does not now have quite the j'nais se quoi or prestige maybe - that is for you to judge but the Navy has always of course been the senior service and it was a Fleet Air Arm station. In all, we had twenty homes. Last night, I chuckled when I watched Location Location Location which featured an army colonel and his family who had eleven - dear heaven I thought, that is almost stationary compared to us. In fact, we started off in East Anglia and despite our various moves, one of them being down in Hampshire, we come full circle. Dad had three spells at the Ministry of Defence.
I hope this will be an interesting and enjoyable read and will add more to my portfolio of writing in the near future, perhaps provide helpful as well as interesting articles, fictional stories and perhaps try out my scriptwriting out on you for your comments. For the present it is as they say across the channel, au revoir if you are French learning English, auf weidersehen if you are German, I do not know what the Dutch is and forgotten the Portuguese, well have a heart, it was nineteen eighty when we left.
Fiona Johnston
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