Tuesday, 29 July 2014

A daft way to carry your shopping home

This is Ben the Boa who features in my children's book, 'Odd Witch'.
Here he is demonstrating a unique way of carrying the shopping home by swallowing the contents of the trolley and slithering down the street with it in his belly...

Can you guess what shopping he has today?

Monday, 28 July 2014

Tea and Contemplation

A little fairy enjoying a quiet moment of contemplation whilst enjoying a cup of tea.

This is my own fairy illustration in a collage of pretty handmade paper (I'm in love with patterned paper!)

Friday, 25 July 2014

Where is the time, where is the energy?

When do us domestic goddesses find time or indeed energy to read? I've heard women say that they read a book when their child faffs with their potty or whilst stirring the gravy.

Perhaps I should strap a book to my waist so that I can whip it out at a moment's notice.

Reading is a vital ingredient for my well being and yet it has been shelved for more essential activities such as eating and sleeping, things that I cannot go without apparently.

Reading is just the tip of the iceberg. When do I find the time to satisfy my passion for illustrating and writing? In fact time is not the only hindrance, lack of energy is also key.

I feel like a daily tea pot pouring out lovingly made succour to the little (and grown up) beings in my house, endlessly tipping up to imbibe my loved ones with whatever they need. I am happy to do so.

Unfortunately, when the moment arrives to indulge myself the tea pot is empty (I am a tea fanatic hence the analogy!) and instead of creating masterpieces or reading them I sit before the T.V. in a sort of limbo land between waking and sleeping.

My creative world is constructed on bits of paper as line drawings and random strings of words that I hope one day I will decipher as the wondrous masterpieces that I once conceived them to be.

Of course I will be a successful writer and illustrator one day, in the same manner that one day biscuits will not be a staple of my diet, I will step outside with both hair and make up done and will cook and serve a family meal without, at some point, hiding in the bathroom crying into a flannel.

Here's hoping...

A child's lovely description...

Whilst driving along today my little girl said, 'There's a noise on my feet,' she was describing pins and needles.

Friday, 11 July 2014

Creative time with my little girl

I am bursting with joy after parents evening.

Though Toddler Boy tipped up a huge box of train sets and pooed himself during our appointment I am pleased as punch to discover that my little Girlie Girl has inherited my love of drawing.

Her teacher said she loved Girlie Girl's pictures and could tell that she came from a 'language rich family', though between you and me, some of the the language can be a little too rich at times!

It inspired this little illustration...

 Drawing Time with Mum

Wednesday, 9 July 2014

Is my dog really my best friend?

I'm not sure I agree with the saying that a dog is your best friend.

Would a best friend not only tear your bin bags but deliberately strew the contents all over your lawn whilst eating at least 90% of the rotten bits?


A dog dosen't stop there in its pursuit of friendship. The same lovable rogue will then poo or puke the partly digested rubbish on the same lawn (I have actually watched in horror as my dog deposited an entire, barely chewed nappy!)

My lovely 'friend' will snuggle up with the pretence of having a lovely cuddle then either belch, fart or flick spit in my lap.

Would a best friend roll in shit then lie on your sofa?

Would a best friend poo on your lawn while you're actually mowing it or eat your favourite shoes?

Imagine having a dinner party and your best friend goes around sniffing bottoms and crotches?

I watched a dog plough into its owner, taking her legs clean out from under her. Did he help her to her feet, show any signs of remorse?


Instead he continued to chuck his ball at her face and bolt off to leave her to endure the indignity of being lifted from her dishevelled state, smeared in mud and covered in dog spit.

Would a best friend treat you like that?

I remember, when visiting relations, my grandad waxed lyrical about his dog Minty and her ever faithful loyalty. He went to great lengths stating that she never left his side, was good as gold and liked nothing better than to curl up on his lap.

As we drove away we wondered why our relatives waved quite so vigorously and seemed to be shouting.

It turned out my grandad's 'best friend' sat on the drive and watched him go. When he did the walk of shame to collect her she refused to get in his car.

Would a best friend do that?


But when I look into those big soulful eyes and stroke those soft, velvety ears, of course, even though he's a Doberman built like a brick privvy, he is my best friend.

Having said all that, it could be worse, you pet 'dog' could be like Humphrey in 'Odd Witch'...

Humphrey dines out on slugs and eye balls and retrieves people on park benches instead of sticks!

I have written and illustrated a whole children's book featuring Humphrey and other odd characters. It's available online at

Thursday, 19 June 2014

Why Does This Mocking Bird Kill Herself?

The Metamorphosis of Elissa Brown (currently available on Amazon http://amzn.to/1jBjuSV)

Melanie laughed gently at this last remark. As she threw her head back a little she glanced off Elissa’s shoulder. Elissa shivered, though it was certainly not cold. ‘Well, I better get back before the lunch break is over.’ She stood, retrieving her bag again. At the doorway she stopped, looked back and said, ‘You’re welcome to join us?’
Melanie did not reply. She did not look round but sat still as stone staring out over the low wall that gave way to the sheer cliff face. The wind picked up a little and just as Elissa thought to go, Melanie stood up and, in one swift movement stepped towards the wall, clambered onto it and stood tall and straight, arms outstretched.
Elissa’s heart leapt into her throat in an instance. Surely, Melanie did not intend to… Her internal thought stopped at the urgency, for Melanie was indeed leaning forward, bracing herself against the sudden stiff gale.
‘What are you doing?’ shrieked Elissa darting forward to pull the girl back. Her long fingers clutched at air. Melanie leapt from the wall, leapt forcefully so that she seemed to momentarily fly. She uttered something that was whisked away by the wind and was gone.
Elissa stared, rigid with shock, leaning over the battlement. The figure of Melanie Smythe, resembling a crumpled canary, was just discernable in the mud below. The bent pages of her book ‘To Kill a Mocking Bird’ fluttered like trembling angel wings on the flagstones by Elissa’s feet.

Why does this apparently contented teenager suddenly challenge the wind and plummet to her death? This signifies the start of a series of terrifying events for Elissa Brown...

Read more on Amazon  http://amzn.to/1jBjuSV