Jane Austen

If I’m being totally honest, the only reason I re-read my Jane Austen books recently was to try and further erase the awfulness of Fifty Shades from my memory.  It actually worked until I just reminded myself there.  Anyway, the point of this post is to verbalise my curiosity for the lack of love there seems to be for Northanger Abbey.  I know it’s not as good as the others really in terms of the characters and everything, but I still really enjoy reading it.  And if I’m totally honest I’m probably far more like Catherine Morland than any other Austen heroine.  I’d rather be like Elizabeth Bennet though, but wouldn’t we all?  I also have a soft spot for Mr. Tilney.  Sure he’s no Darcy, but personally that isn’t really a bad thing.

So yeah, I like Northanger Abbey.  I relate to Catherine Morland, and I like Mr. Tilney.  I’ll change my mind after watching the BBC Pride and Prejudice again I’m sure, but never mind.  Mmmm, Colin Firth’s Mr. Darcy. 

Though I did like JJ Feild as Mr. Tilney.

Writing

So, after many months off, I’ve made an effort to try and get the writing thing going again.  After all, I’m never going to improve if I don’t keep at it am I?  This involves reading lots, both factual books for research, and fictional books for inspiration, tips, and what not to dos.  In fact some use has come from those awful books I read recently.  I need to do better than them if I’m ever to have a chance of any kind of success.  Bear in mind that I class actually liking what I’ve written myself as success, and that’s obviously before I let anyone else have a look.  In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever shown anyone anything I’ve ever written, not since the rubbish dinosaur stories I wrote as a kid. 

Trying to immerse myself in Tudor history is somewhat slow going this time though.  I am reading a really good book right now though actually, but I’m not sure it isn’t serving more to demotivate me.  I’ll never be that good.  But that’s not the right attitude here.  I will persevere.  I will succeed.  And if I tell myself this often enough, then who knows, I might even succeed.  Yay.

On the other hand, given the amount of crap out there about the Tudors, I might just give up and decide to focus on another less overdone era instead.  Hmm.

The End Is In Sight

I cannot wait for The Child to go back to school.  I have had more than I can stand of CBeebies.  I cannot take anymore of her Thomas the Tank Engine DVDs, or the whinging when I actually want to do something other than slob around at home.  I’m sick of breakfast lasting hours.  Though perhaps I’ve not been stressy enough.  Perhaps I need to convey an air of panic when trying to get The Child ready in a morning.  Maybe that’s where I’ve been going wrong.  Perhaps my reluctance to traipse into town is showing.  Though I’ve done an amazing job of tourist avoidance so far.  The heat is not helping my mood though.  Nor is the humidity.  In fact I think a good thunder storm’s in order. 

Every year I forget how much I loathe summer.  I forget how nightmarish it is to keep The Child entertained.  I actually wouldn’t mind escaping to a job every day and forking out the £100 a week childcare.  Though I would get however much of that paid for me once I could prove I was working the appropriate hours.  And to be honest, it isn’t actually worth my while financially to work more than twenty-four hours a week.  I need to get out though.  I’m beginning to feel like a caged animal.  I’ve had enough of Guess Who, and pairs.  Playing with children is not something I’m good at.  And I just can’t appreciate kids TV.  I loathe the false cheeriness of it all.  I am turning into a grumpy old woman.  And I’m still in my twenties.  It’s alarming.  Actually, when talking to the right people it is somewhat cathartic.  But there we go. 

So, summer hasn’t been such fun.  It’s better than spider season though.  And now they’re beginning to appear.  Joy.  Tourists or spiders?  Yep, I’d take the tourists.  Sure they have the potential to turn me into an axe wielding maniac, but they’re less scary.  Much less scary.  Not scary at all really.  They just amble along like mindless zombies. 

At least the olympics is over.  And The Child goes back to school in a fortnight.  Yay.

Still no job though.  Grrr.

Tennis

I love tennis.  I can’t play it at all, despite having a few lessons when I was younger.  And let’s not forget the occasional high school tennis lessons either.  I enjoyed it though, and it’s probably the only sport I actually enjoy watching.  Anyway, for once we (as in Britain) did alright.  The Child actually almost got interested in tennis too.  And she was very patriotic, saying she wanted Murray to win.  And of course in the singles today he did.  This is the moment I confess that myself, my mother, and my sister were actually rooting for Federer.  As we did during Wimbledon.  We just prefer Federer.  I still enjoyed the match, and I suppose in a way I am actually glad that Murray’s doing well.  Really well.  Britain doesn’t actually suck too much.  I have no idea about any of the other Olympic stuff though.  I’m not really that fussed with anything but the tennis.

And having long since given up on Fifty Shades (my god did those books just make me angry!), I’m now enjoying the Hunger Games.  In my opinion it’s loads better.  There’s an actual plot, and even if I didn’t immediately warm to the protagonist, there was enough going on to keep me interested.  And to be honest, it only took a couple of chapters for me to start to warm to the protagonist.  Characterisation really helps with this I find.

I’m still counting down the days to the end of summer though.  September can’t come quick enough.

Summer

I’ve been thinking of the things The Child can claim to have done this summer.  Even though we’re only two weeks in she has done a fair bit.  She’s practised her reading and writing a bit more.  She’s been to two parties.  And she’s had her first sleepover.  This last thing still makes me feel a bit funny.  She’s stayed at my parents’ many times, but this was different.  She’s growing up.  Fast.  It’s actually scaring me a little.  And never have I felt so lost on an evening before.  It was strange having no child to check up on.  When she’s stayed at my parents’, I’ve always had a night out or something to occupy me.  Not this time.  And even though she was only staying with her friends next door, it felt so strange.  It’s nice to know that there is some maternal feeling in there somewhere though.

She’s also been to Whitby and Pickering, to the abbey and the castle.  We’re thinking Scarborough castle next week if the weather permits.  She likes running around old ruins.  I used to like running around old ruins.  Now I’m boring and am more interested in the history of the old ruins.  I’m hoping we manage to keep as busy throughout the rest of summer.  Only four more weeks to go though.  Not long.  I hope the ideas don’t dry up completely.  In some respects I am very imaginative.  However, when it comes to keeping The Child amused I usually find myself drawing blanks.  Hmm.