Roland Ladley's Blog, page 22

Stay safe

I think we’ve both suffered with cabin fever on and off this week. I’m ok with routine (C less so) but even I’ve struggled with being stuck indoors, with Mrs Sun hiding behind thick cloud, and without a clear idea of what the future looks like. But, she’s out this morning, I’ve been for a run – C’s about to go. And then it’s following the routine. Lunch, edit a chapter in book 7 of the Sam Green thriller series, some guitar, supper, TV, bed. Repeat. Although I do have a meeting with the school tomorrow which will kickstart some 360s. That’s going to take a chunk of two week’s worth of work.

First chance to sit outside with a coffee

And we’re still trying to stay safe. It’s interesting, but the restrictions are not the same all over Europe. I follow two bloggers in Spain. Both are UK residents (one couple live in a bolt-hole and the other are in a motorhome on a campsite) and both have to return at the end of March (due to Brexit) for at least three months. There, though, covid restrictions are currently left to local authorities. What is different is that outside cafes etc are still open, travel within regions is allowed, work continues as normal, numbers are way down on ours … but they have to wear masks outdoors and there’s a 6 pm curfew. And everyone complies. Different, hey?

our Jen has taken up character drawing on her laptop

As to our lockdown, things are not the same as they were in the Spring of last year. One of our runs takes us past a skate park. Last April it was closed and, other than the odd rebel, was always empty. This morning it was full of kids and a couple of adults. No masks and no social distancing. I’m not griping. I’m not. I worked with children for eight years and I think I understand them and their needs. The pandemic has done for them badly … I know that. But the skate park shouldn’t be open. And if kids want to play, they should be encouraged by their parents to do so safely – wear a mask and keep their distance. If one of them has the new variant, they might all get it. And take it home, with all the havoc which that brings. The vaccine is being rolled out. We just need to keep our nerve.

On that, mum gets her’s today. And our friend Mary had her first jab last week. It all looks good (hurrah), although I wish the government would desist from claiming that ‘we’re the best in Europe’ (likely true, but is it really a competition … if it is, then why aren’t they shouting about the number of deaths?) and calling the number of jabs ‘vaccinations’. People have not been vaccinated. Not fully. They’ve had their first jab. Again, don’t misunderstand me, the NHS (thank goodness it was left to them and not farmed out to some private company) are doing a fab job. But the government has failed to learn that if it over-promises, it will get caught out. If, by now, they haven’t learnt that the public have brains of their own, when will they? Whatever, long may the good news about the vaccinations continue.

I love this photo of Henry and his dad

Anyhow enough about us. How are you? What are you watching on telly? How are you keeping yourself busy? Are you managing to get to the shops? And are you keeping yourself safe? I hope so. I know many of you who read this drivel and I would hate to hear of a disaster for you or any of your clan. So, please stay as safe as you can. It seems, outside kids coming home infected from skateparks, supermarkets are the worst disease spreaders. C wore a double mask at Lidl last Monday and we sprayed everything when it got home. Sure, if you get it and you’re under 60, statistically you’re very likely to survive. But if you are under 60, you really don’t want to be an outlier on that graph.

So … stay safe. Keep as busy as you can. And be kind to yourself. You don’t have to start a new hobby, or learn a new language. Staying sane and safe is a good outcome. Chin up everywhere …

To MoT, or not to MoT?

So, it seems possible that His Orangeness might just get the boot? The House, with a Democrat majority, will definitely impeach him and now there appears to be up to 20 Republican senators who might vote to convict him (they need a two-thirds majority to do that, which is 17 Republicans voting in favour of impeachment). It seems odd here, even with our current popularist, too-rightwing-for-me-government, that there are politicians in the US who can’t see why he shouldn’t be sacked. Leave aside a liturgy of really contentious and often conflicting decision making, the personality of young boy who has been given too much media exposure, the fact that Trump set the agenda for a mob, encouraged them to gather, incited them at their event, gave them enemies to pursue and then encouraged them to the Capitol surely says he should no longer hold the nuclear codes? We’ll see.

lovely view along the Avon this morning

I’ve just got back from taking Doris for her MoT. It was a difficult decision. We have no intention of using her anytime soon, but the government webpage, which I grant you is six months out of date (grrr), makes it clear that she’s either MoTd or SORd – or you could get a £1000 fine. Anyhow, I spoke with the garage (Sampson Commercials, Avonmouth) – who are brilliant. They are covid compliant and made all the right noises. So I was up early, dropped her off and ran along the Avon for an hour – which was fab. After a headlight adjustment, she passed and, masked up and with the windows open, I brought her home. All done.

After a really quiet Christmas and New Year it seems my consultancy business might be picking up a little. One of the schools I work with have asked me to do some remote 360s and some zoom leadership training for the sixth form. Which is great, although, I’m going to have ramp myself up. Part of me wants to say ‘no’. I’m enjoying editing my book and practising my guitar; C and I have quite a nice little and quite idle routine. But, it’s also good to give something back (I don’t charge much), and it’s always good to interact with children. So, we’ll see. And, let’s face it, we’re not going anywhere.

early morning assault on Lidl

Other than that we’re caught up in The Handmaid’s Tale. Oh, goodness, it’s fab. The story is great, but the cinematography and acting is exceptional. Wow. And apparently they’re going to make at least two more series? We’re 2/3 down so far, so that’s something to look forward to. And Schitt’s Creek! Have you seen that? It’s an American comedy in the best of that tradition. You really do start to love the characters.

not Henry … me apparently

Anyhow … enough from me. We’re OK here. C’s still knitting and we’re trying to stay as safe as we can. Please do the same.

We’re all doomed

We’re glued to the Handmaid’s Tale. It’s on Prime. Watching it, if you think about it in the current times, is probably not the best thing for our mental health. I thought it was about a bunch of red-frocked women running a retreat somewhere where they lord it over all men. A sort of nuns do The Midwich Cukoos. Eh. No. Think male dominated, ultra-right wing US (it’s not so hard to do at the moment) mixed with global warming and you have the plot. It is brilliantly filmed and acted, if ever so slightly uncomfortable.

And then … with the short days here and the number of deaths in the UK (10,000 in two weeks), of which we are going to get a substantial rise in the next ten days as Christmas and New Year add to the numbers and before the lockdown kicks in, I fear for all of our safety …

[I’m going to get all dystopian now. Skip this bit if you wish.]

… I don’t just mean in terms of numbers of deaths and illnesses. I mean the wider impact on London, for example, when the hospitals max completely. When the vaccination programme doesn’t run smoothly (an elderly friend of ours had her’s cancelled last week). When the impact of Brexit on food and medicine supplies (there are already many issues at the border) takes its toll. And, eventually, the effect on the whole economy. Our pensions. Inflation. Unemployment. I have a worst case early 70s in my head, with three-day weeks and power cuts, when you paid 17% interest on your mortgage. At that point our parents – who were post war – were reasonably relaxed about it. They had seen much harder times. Our generation, and our children’s? What may they make of it? And would they take to the streets? And would the hard-right, the bully boys, fill the void … they’re pretty much in charge now.

feeling a bit for my kids at the mo. Henry on Bex’s tummy



and Jen … and Cassie

Anyhow, that’s watching too much Handmaid’s Tale for you …

We’ve kept ourselves safe. We’re now walking and running in masks (we both drop our masks when we’re away from people). It’s interesting … we walked to the local fire station a couple of days ago to drop off a secondhand laptop. Any fire station will hold it for https://digilocal.org.uk/ who recondition it and pass it to a schoolchild who needs it for home schooling. If you have a usable machine which you don’t use anymore, please visit the site, it’s really easy and, hopefully, really helpful. Anyway, what was interesting was the number of people wearing masks as they walked. Which is great. One in three, probably. As always, it seems, the people are ahead of the government here. And I do not see why they won’t make masks mandatory outside – every little helps. It’s compulsory in Spain, for example.

I am ranting a bit again, sorry.

Other than that we’ve been following our routine. I’m getting better still at the guitar, and I’m 6/21 chapters into editing book 7 of the Sam Green series. C’s knitting like a trooper and we are both on a bit of a detox regime. My sugar intake over Christmas nudged up Tate & Lyle’s share price, I’m sure.

running in a mask

Stay safe everyone. Please. Not too long before you can have a vaccine.

A bit of a rant …

So, we’re here again. Sorry. Our house has enough love and goodwill to survive the lockdown. We did, after all, spend two weeks quarantined in a foreign hotel room with more chicken, rice and pickled vegetables than we could ever eat. If you’re the same then I think, like us, we should consider ourselves lucky. If, on the other hand, you’re struggling for whatever reason, then I’m genuinely sorry. I cannot imagine what it must be like for those of you who either need company or better company, or space, or a break from the children … or, whatever reason this will be a struggle. Sorry again.

before I start …

It didn’t have to be this way. I am absolutely convinced of it. And I cannot forgive our government for where they have taken us. We initially locked down at least two weeks late, when the good people of Italy’s Po Valley were screaming at us. Instead we allowed major racing and music events to go ahead. We came out of a successful lockdown at least two weeks early and without an effective track and trace system, even though you and I paid £12 billion for it – a system which is still not functioning properly almost 12 months later. Rather than pursue a zero-covid approach, when the numbers were really low in the summer, we were then strongly encouraged to eat out. And when the numbers rose again, we locked down in September … but again, at least two weeks late.

We were told by Boris Johnson this would be over by last Easter. And then the summer. And then Christmas, for which we were all given a pass to visit friends and family when the evidence suggested this would ramp up the virus. Schools in London were threatened with legal action in the last week of term when councils tried to close them due to rising cases. Christmas was then abruptly cancelled. And a new strain of the virus, likely caused by long incubation in one of very many patients, was identified. In early December experts were telling us a hard lockdown was needed sooner rather than later. And yet, unfathomably, hundreds of thousands of children were sent to school for a single, virus-sharing day this Monday, only for the schools to be shut that evening.

Throughout we have kept our borders open. You still do not need to to prove to be covid-free to enter our country when, across the world, almost every other nation has some form of system in place. And we were very late to the mask party. In the Spring the WHO were recommending wearing of masks in enclosed spaces. I can tell you that everyone (everyone) wears a mask in Korea – everywhere, including young kids kicking a football in the street. For some reason, even when the evidence was overwhelming, we were slow to act.

And we find ourselves where we are.

We are an island. We could have gone for a sharp, zero-covid approach, like New Zealand, closed our borders, set up an effective track and trace system and been ‘world-beating’. For those of you who argue that New Zealand is a big island with a small population, I hear you. But South Korea has pretty much the same land mass and the same population, and they manage it. For those of you who add that South Korea ‘do as they are told’, you are wrong. The Korean’s national Saturday pastime is to protest against their government. The population has thrown out numerous governments and jailed a couple of its leaders. What they have is a sense of civic duty – a caring for each other, which the British population also has in spades. It just needs to be harnessed.

I do blame the government. For me, leaving aside late lockdowns, no masks and no track and trace, the pivotal moment of the pandemic was when Dominic Cummings was allowed to get away with breaking lockdown rules with lies and without an apology – and with the support of the prime minister. No wonder since the summer people have lost confidence in the government’s messaging.

And I don’t blame the covid-deniers and anti-vaxxers, no matter how ridiculous they sound. Sure, those of them with huge followings are not helping but, again, the government could come out against them, even if they don’t shut them down. I’ve not heard a single cabinet minister dismiss people like Julia Hartley-Brewer, Toby Young and Lawrence Fox, among many others.

So, I am really sorry we are where were are. No one is saying that managing this is easy and, of course, people make mistakes. But the liturgy of poor and late decision making in my view has no excuse. And why? Why the late decisions? Some say it’s because Johnson is a libertarian and hates messing with people’s freedoms. Some say it’s because he only makes difficult decisions when he absolutely has to. For me, it’s always been about ‘owning the libs’. Johnson will not make decision which the more liberal minded have been calling for. He won’t. Unless he absolutely has to. Unfortunately, so far, the liberal-minded have been right about the pandemic. Unfortunately our government has put ideology above the needs of the people. And I will never forgive them for that.

That’s it. Rant over. We didn’t need to be where we are. We didn’t.

I’ve started the major edit of book 7 of the Sam Green series … hurrah!

Normal, we did this and we did that, will resume next time.

Oh … and well done Georgia. A huge result. And thank goodness.

Aaaargh!

First, a few words of sympathy for our teachers. With the current state of covid-19 they find themselves in a really difficult position; as do the senior leadership teams of their schools. Of course, we all have our opinions of teachers – we’ve all been on the learning end, so feel able to judge. However, I would argue that unless you’ve been poised at the whiteboard of an unruly class, or at the end of a week of lessons, break duties, marking, preparing, detentions, phone calls to parents/guardians, data collection and report writing, then I’m not sure you can call them left-wing wusses. The eight months I spent in a state school maths department proved one unassailable fact: teachers are hard-working, hugely patient, kind, competent, tireless and do the very best for your children. They want to teach; and they want to teach well. They like children. Of course there is the odd one who breaks that mould, but that’s the same in any occupation. So, please, give them some grace. [For those of you reading for the first time, I did also spend 8 years teaching at a private school … they’re under the same sort of pressures at the mo.]

spot the halo

We’ve not broken our routine. Other than a quick dip into the local Tesco Express for some bread, the last time we visited the shops was on the 21st December. C plans to go again tomorrow. Other than that we’re on the walk/run daily cycle, with some fab walks down by the Severn when Mrs Sun has decided to put her pants on.

With that, we have reflected, as we often do, on how lucky we are. I don’t work, not in the conventional sense (interestingly, I had an exchange a couple of days ago with a new school who may be offering some leadership consultancy this term). As such we’ve really been able to cut ourselves off from society as we wait for the vaccine, or for things to improve, as we did earlier in the year. Having that freedom is priceless … and for those of you having to mix with others by way of work, please stay as safe as you can.

we’ve had some lovely walks

But with that freedom does come responsibility – to yourself, especially at this time. It would be quite easy to dig in, watch TV, eat, drink, sleep, nap, sleep some more and become morose. I guess it’s a bit like leaving your car on the drive. If you don’t take it for a spin, the battery will go flat, the rubber seals will disintegrate and the brakes will rust on. I suppose that’s why we’ve opted for a regime, even if the weather is rubbish. And that’s why I’m working hard with my new guitar.

Have you heard of the 100,000 hours’ rule? I think it may be an urban myth, but the view is if you practice something, anything, for 100,000 hours you will be able to do that thing professionally. (My bag of fag packet sum realistically puts 100,000 hours at 55 years’ worth of practice, so you would hope to be good just before you retire.) But the premise holds – of course it does; practise makes perfect. And, for activities where there’s the need for physical actions, the clear advice is start slowly. That is, do the action – such as strumming a guitar – really slowly to begin with. And then gradually speed up. Hopefully this advice is factored into the 100,000 hour rule, otherwise 100,000 might be an underestimate.

So, much to C’s annoyance in our v small house, I’m learning percussive guitar. That is to add bass and snare drum effects on the body of the guitar whilst you’re playing. It’s a technique that’s been around for hundreds of years … I learnt some flamenco yesterday, and that involves slapping the strings with a flat hand – at speed. And I’ve applied the ‘start slowly’ technique, combined with the ‘practice a lot’ mantra and, having almost given up about a week ago, I’m getting there.

It’s a completely new skill. The guitar is a two-handed instrument. Your right hand plucks and strums … your left hand presses the strings against the fret. On the face of it, I’m an adequate player. And without an real practice since we left the school seven years ago, I’ve not got any better. Until now. But it’s not been without exasperation. Slapping and tapping the body of the guitar with your right hand, when for 30 years it’s been used to plucking and strumming, is a whole new skill, especially when you are expected to do both at the same time. In many ways it’s like learning the guitar from scratch. Your brain is shouting at your hands, and they’re not responding. And then when you eventually get the percussive sound mixing with the strumming/plucking, you have to divert your attention to your lefr hand which you’ve forgotten about – the one actually making the notes. And then when that does the right thing, the left hand goes to jelly. Aaaargh!

100,000 hours. That’s all it takes. Ho hum.

hello from South Korea

Stay safe everyone.

I’m getting better at slapping my guitar

walking and running continues …

With the announcement of the Astra-Zenica vaccine today, I’m hoping we can all look forward to a summer of few restrictions? They reckon they can put out a million a week, which does sound a lot – so bravo to them. Worse case is it will take a year to vaccinate all of us. Let’s keep our fingers crossed.

Our routine continues. We did pop to the shops today (we walked). Bread and bird food was needed, and I picked up a prescription for some nasal spray. My ears, alas, are still not right. It’s been seven years now and I phoned the doc about another minor issue, mentioned my frustration with the things on the side of my head, and she’s put me on some more steroid spray. I’m going to have some very strong nose muscles … and more hair sprouting than usual. Oh, to be an older man.

hello Robin

We have kept up our routine. Yesterday was run day. C was out for an hour. I did our ‘long run’, which is only 6 klicks, but I do work up a sweat. Today we walked – always trying to avoid people. Mostly the Bradley Stoke lot are very good. Only one or two get testy when you give them a Paddington hard stare if they don’t avoid you. And we have watched a lot of TV. It will stop on Monday, the end of our ‘holiday’ period. That’s when I intend to start editing book 7 in the Sam Green series. I’ll have left it to soak for almost two months; I really am struggling to remember the plot. But it’s always fun going back over what you’ve written. I do surprise myself – ‘did I really write that?’. I’m well over a million published words now, so it’s a surprise if I forget much of what I’ve penned.

I’m enjoying my ‘gig’ guitar (3/4 size). I realised that when I posted what we’d got for Christmas my guitar threw a shadow over C’s Henry-replacement teddy. I’d like to report that she did get some bluetooth earbuds and, yesterday, ordered herself a Samsung tablet, so I think the balance is about right. Anyhow, the guitar. I don’t play badly but, until now, I’ve struggled with the percussive sound you can get by slapping the strings/case. Ed Sheeran uses it a lot and really adds something to your playing. Well … I can do that now – nowhere near well enough. But I am getting better. And, as of yet, my fingers have not bled. It is only a matter of time.

when I grow up I want a full-sized guitar

And you will notice that, yet again, I have avoided politics. Suffice to say that I am still really frustrated with our government – the way it’s tackled covid and the associated and unnecessary deaths, and Brexit. But I won’t bore you. I’ll just chew on my knuckles and seethe a little.

So, keep safe. And for my US pals, you too. I complain about the way we’ve tackled the disease, but your administration’s almost wilful lack of effort/control/competence/politics must be far more frustrating than ours. You, therefore, stay safer still. Wear a mask, wash your hands and keep your distance. I understand that the administration of your vaccine(s) has been sporadic, and that’s not helping. But it will come. Sorry to be patronising.

And roll on 2021 …

Roll on 2021

So that’s that, then. We had a good time, just the two of us. It was the most relaxing Christmas we’ve ever had. OK, so it lacked that additional love and warmth (and the odd friction) you get from having additional loved ones around – and we missed all of you. But there was something special about just being together. The last and only time we’ve done that before was on our European tour, Christmas 2014 … we were in Sicily. That was different again, but fun. Anyhow, it’s over, and now we all have an uncertain 2021 to look forward to.

Bottom of the Red 8, Alpbach, Christmas 2011

Oh … just for the record we held a Zoom quiz on Christmas morning. My round was eighteen old photos of the kids and their spouses, where they had to tell me and C where the photo was taken and when. It took us most of Christmas Eve afternoon to go through the photos, of which we have thousands. That, in itself, was a scream until we ran out of the will to live and put the albums back into the attic.

Santa brought C a Henry replacement for Christmas …



… and me a gig guitar.

The weather, which is lovely at the mo (I’m just back from a 5 km run), has been topsy-turvy. We have had a lot of rain. Thankfully we live next to a nature reserve which is a good couple of metres lower than where we are and the water always manages to make its escape before it accumulates unnecessarily. It looks set fair for a good ten days from Tuesday so, hopefully, we’ll all be able to get out for our walks/runs without fear of a drenching.

Of course I haven’t mentioned politics. Nor Brexit. I have, in my own way, run out of steam; worn down by the relentlessness of it all. However … I saw a comment on Twitter the other day saying most Brits don’t consider themselves European? If that’s the case, which particular continent do they align themselves to? Geographically I am European … of course I am. But, if you ask the more politicised question … yes, I am European. I still think that Brexit is a huge mistake and, unfortunately, we will live to regret a decision to which very few people really understood the question. And I particularly have little time for the politicians and commentators who pushed the Leave agenda. Europe was never a big issue for the general public until the right-wing press barons decided it should be. And, as a result, we find ourselves where we are. Ho hum.

Next, as I understand it, may be the reintroduction of capital punishment – Priti Patel’s baby. Well, I shall be on the streets opposing that one for sure. Maybe that’s what will take up 2021?

to cheer you all up



and to cheer me up.

Stay safe everyone.

Happy Christmas everyone

Happy Christmas from the Ladleys. The traditional cat’s letter is below. For those of you reading it for the first time, it’s a decade’s-old tradition. Our – now past – cat, Tidge, pen’s the Christmas update. If you’re a regular blog reader, none of it will come as a surprise …

Please stay safe. It’s clearly a dangerous world at the moment. And you really don’t want the disease.

++++++

Have a safe Christmas ….

Well that surprised you, didn’t it? Boris Johnson predicted in January that ‘this is going to be a fantastic year’, and look what happened. And, let’s face it, he’s hardly helped. Up here we mostly knew what was coming: increased temperatures, more extreme weather, plagues of locusts, more summer hurricanes and wildfires than ever, another year of Donald Trump … and then the whole covid_19 experiment got a little out of hand. Sorry.

As for the Ladleys, well it’s been even more complicated and a little sadder, and happier, than usual. With grand plans which included skiing, six weeks in Spain in Doris, and then a road trip to Baku in Azerbaijan, the virus put paid to most of those for the seniors. Instead, and as a pleasant surprise, lockdown saw Mum and Dad take in their old friend Mary for ten weeks in their little house in Bristol. And before the virus they managed skiing in Chatel (which was a fab four weeks). But once the disease hit, disaster struck. Dad lost his brother, Kevin, to covid_19. Kevin had all the symptoms and two trips to hospital, but in the end the wonderful NHS couldn’t save him. The world is less full of life now he’s gone. Rest in peace, Kevin.

Later in the year, on a much more happy note, Bex (and Steven) had their first child, Henry, a ten-and-a-half pound bundle of loveliness. Mum and Dad flew to Seoul to be there, which included two weeks isolation in a government hotel – at Mum and Dad’s expense. They literally weren’t allowed out of the room … and meals were served by a hazmatted local. It was an adventure! But not as much as the birth of Henry John Albert, which wasn’t without tears. Everyone is doing well, except for Grandad and Granny C who so wanted to smuggle him home. 

Bex has stopped work until next September and so Steven has taken her role as head of faculty at the school. Even with much smaller disease numbers they’ve had the same sort of restrictions we’ve faced, so haven’t managed to get away apart from skiing in the Rockies early in the year. In the summer they were able to visit areas of Korea they’ve not seen before, which was a bonus. But, with covid numbers now rising, the Korean government is applying more restrictions. The pair have plenty of friends though, so their Christmas break won’t be a wash out. We are all very proud of them and hope to see Bex and Henry in the Spring.

Jen and James are fine although, for Jen, it has been a bit of a year. She had a precancerous pancreatic cyst removed (along with her spleen … who needs one of those, anyway?) in the New Year and, along with her consistent maladies, she has struggled to find the energy to do anything other than be a lovely person. The good news is that, after a number of years, her elusive, unfathomable illness looks set to be diagnosed. Treatment will follow … hurrah for that. James continues to work tirelessly as both breadwinner and carer. He’s a saint, although technically that’s got a few committees to get through before it’s confirmed up here.

As well as the steady hand on the Ladley tiller, Mum spent the first half of the year knitting for NATO. As a result over half of the baggage to Seoul was full of fabulous, baby-sized knitwear. She loved Seoul and could have stayed there (they both could). And she could have also stayed on the Yorkshire coast where Mum and Dad spent a very chilled six weeks in Doris between lockdowns. She’s still running, still walking, still cooking, still baking, still clearing up after Dad … and still stopping Dad from getting into Doris the camper and driving around the world. Their time will come.

Dad, as well as being permanently grumpy with the current state of politics, published book six in the Sam Green series, Blood Red Earth, in the summer and, just now, his first non-Sam Green thriller, of Black Bulls and White Horses. He’s especially pleased with this novel, which is part love story, part thriller set in the Camargue region of France. Of course he’s not selling any books and whilst there was a sniff of a publishing contract in the Spring, that came to nothing. Never mind … his little leadership consultancy business continues to provide the odd bean or two. And he still has his eye on travel, though. Travel and writing. That’s what he longs for. My view is he’ll end up working in B&Q with the other oldies… write about that, Grandad!

Next year for all of us will be different. Promise. Although you’ll have to deal with the detail. We sorted out the vaccine for you (tick) – don’t mess it up. Distribute it effectively and make sure the poorer countries get it. Leaders eat last, remember? With Trump gone (come on, it was a bit of fun whilst it lasted?) the number of idiots in charge has dropped. A big tick again for us there. It’s your job to evict the rest. And you have everything you need to sort out the climate. You just have to find the courage to make it happen. Otherwise we might have to do something about it from up here … and you don’t want that.

As I understand it, the senior Ladleys are poised to go skiing and take their year-delayed trip to Spain. I think with the way things are, that’s unlikely to happen anytime soon. But I’m not going to disabuse them of their current dreams. Dad will just get more grumpy.

And me? I’m fine, thanks for asking. We’re rubbing along nicely up here. It’s all Hark the Herald Angels sing at this time of year, which is fine unless, like me, you’re a Careless Whisper kind of guy. Doubtless I’ll survive, especially as Kevin’s with us. He knows where Peter has stashed the Baileys. 

Stay safe everyone. And look after each other and your world. Be kind and inclusive. There may be a couple of  ‘I’s in nationalism, but that doesn’t make it right. The world is facing some fairly major existential threats. Work with your neighbours, both locally and internationally. You know it makes sense. 

Merry Christmas and all that jazz …

It’s going to be lonely this Christmas

Well that’s messed that up, hasn’t it? We were expecting to have a Christmas lunch on Tuesday with Jen and James and then head up to mum’s on Christmas Eve, coming back on the 27th. She’s in the only Essex district which is not in Tier 4, but any movement (Tier 3 to Tier 3) would have to circumvent the whole of London and the southeast, as you’re not allowed to transit a Tier 4 region. And, in any case, our visit would have been reduced to just Christmas Day. In the end, and very easily, mum said, ‘I lost one son to covid, and I don’t want to lose my second. Stay at home – I’ll be fine’. On top of that her neighbours phoned this morning and said they would drop round Christmas and Boxing day plated meals. Bless them.

yo ho ho …

It means we’re going to be having Christmas on our own … which is absolutely fine, although sad. We will get up to see mum (and our other pals) as soon as we are able. C is currently maxing out the freezer, stashing away all the Christmas goodies which we were taking to mum’s, but are no longer. None of it will be going to waste.

I suppose for all of you whose plans have been interrupted, then our thoughts are with you. I could get all political and talk about ways we might have avoided this, or ‘why wasn’t the announcement made much earlier?’, but that’s not going to help anyone. Just stay safe, the lot of you; the new strain of the virus is much more virulent. Act as though you have the virus, and try your best not to see anyone you really don’t need to. The vaccine is ready. It’s only a few more months …

out today – colder than it looks

And so, onto of Black Bulls and White Horses. It’s done … and out there in ebook and paperback. Find it here: https://amzn.to/3rmkCEL. It’s been a bit of a labour of love. It’s different from the Sam Green books – lighter, less violent and with almost no swearing! I hope you enjoy it and, if you do get to the end, please pen a review on Amazon. It really helps.

‘Emily Copeland is a young teacher at an inner city school. And she’s good at it. One Christmas her mother shares a long held secret of a teenage affair with a French fisherman. Months later her mother is killed in a hit and run and Emily’s life is dislodged from its axis. 

‘With the school summer holidays approaching, Emily decides on a cathartic journey to revisit the French seaside village where, all those years ago, her mother enjoyed her summer fling. Clutching a series of old holiday snaps, she sets off with the ambition of closure. However, the Camargue – where the mighty Rhône meets the Mediterranean – holds deep secrets. It’s a lawless place of cowboys and gipsies, of mudflats, lakes and meandering tributaries … and of black bulls and white horses.

‘Emily’s journey soon ends up being more than just a rehearsal of her mum’s past. As she traces her footsteps, the romantic memories she unearths of a previous summer paint an altogether more sinister picture of the present. And Emily’s trip turns out to be one of enlightenment and of deceit; and of abuse and of greed. Ultimately it’s a story that ends in death … and in love.’  

Other than that our time has been spent in the virtual circle of admin, run/walk and watch the odd film or seven. In that respect it’s been really relaxing. And that looks set to stay that way for foreseeable future. It’s hardly skiing and mad travelling, but we’re so lucky in so many respects.

I’ll post the cat’s annual letter on Wednesday. Stay safe until then.

Henry’s lifting his head

Eventually …

this is a proof copy of my latest … as you can see, it didn’t go well

I eventually got the wrap round cover for of Black Bulls and White Horses sorted. It was, as it always is and never should be, a palaver. First you need a photo for the background you want to use – it needs to be landscape so it will fit a full cover. I used one I took a couple of years ago. Then you design the front cover, which is the marketing shot. I use canva.com which is excellent and free (if you need any detailed advice, then email me or add a comment), and not difficult if all you want is a picture background and then some text. For of Black Bulls and White Horses I used http://picsart.com to play with the image first, taking it from a photo I took and turning it into something more abstract. So far, so good.

the original



after Picsart playing



front cover – tick

Then, using Kindle Direct Publishing – the self-publishing arm of Amazon, I upload a copy of the manuscript and they then tell me what size wrap round cover I need. I download that template onto PowerPoint. I use it as the background to put on the full sized image, on top of which superimpose the front cover, then design the spine and the backpage – all using PowerPoint. The result is messy at the edges and needs trimming. And this is where it all starts to fall apart. However, it seems if you download the slide as an SVG image (the highest quality) and then crop it to the size Amazon want, that’s the start. Then you upload that to a pdf editor, convert it to pdf (the only format Amazon accepts) and ensure it has a resolution of 300 dpi. Now, I can’t guarantee that’s going to work first time … it took me five hours and 12 attempts – but, eventually it works. Hurrah.

the Powerpoint slide



the finished article … phew

The book is actually on Amazon now, if you want it, but I’m not marketing until the weekend – dead on schedule. There will be more details at the weekend. I do hope you enjoy it.

Other than that it’s been run/walk/admin. And today we popped up to see Jen and James.

We are fine. In fact, I think it’s fair to say, we’re running out of things to do. I’ve got the Cat’s Christmas letter to write, some minor work in Doris and the bikes to fully service, but that’s it. Ordinarily I’d be edging and waxing the skis and we’d be gearing up for Chatel, but that’s still a pipe dream. Never mind. We’re lucky to be able to even think about it.

Jen’s ragdoll … as thick as mince

Henry, Bex and Steven are fine. We get regular updates. They’re on their own for Christmas, but all their pals are in the same boat, so they’ve got plenty of people to see. And, of course, a baby to raise (I miss him …).

I really miss the little lad …

Other than that, not much to report from us. Keep safe, all of you. And do email me or comment if you want advice or support with any aspect of self publishing. I’m seven books in now and think I understand the process as well as anyone, including, horrors of horrors, typesetting. Let me know.