Jane Alexander's Blog, page 22

Ti Sana - Italian for "sort me out quick!"

Okay, so I have to confess (and I don't like confessing weaknesses), I’m still feeling rubbish.  Funny thing, loads of people lately have been saying to me, ‘Oh, you need to eat properly – you know, normal food.’ I suppose they mean as opposed to my usual funny diet of fruit, tofu and muesli (and lately not so much of the muesli).  But -  get this – I’ve only been feeling rubbish since I started ‘eating normally’ – ie proper meals (vegetarian still of course).  So maybe my...

Knee-deep in mud... why? Why?

I haven’t been hanging around social media much over the last few days.  Truth to tell, I’m still  not feeling great and the screen has been doing my eyes in, so I spent most of the weekend curled up by the fire, watching the flames and…y'know...dozing, dreaming.  J
And then I logged onto Facebook and came back to earth with a crash.  Saw this picture, posted by Hen (she of the wondrous yurt) and just thought, why?  WHY? L
At first I thought they were pigs.  B...

Sleep meditation, dream yoga and astral playdates

So, I’m reading The Tibetan Yogas of Dream and Sleep.  Slowly. Cos every time I read a page I fall asleep. J
Why? Cos I wanna be able to meditate when I’m asleep. Seriously, how cool would that be? The idea is that, eventually, you learn to remain aware at all times, even during deep sleep.  Why? Um, cos it’s possible I suppose. Because I love meditating while awake so figure more of a good thing is great. Because sleep seems like such a huge waste of time. And also because I’ve had...

It's criminal...

Yesterday I made a rash promise. I wasn’t entirely myself at the time – quite possibly someone else.  So I need your help. All you budding crime novelists out there. 
See, I went through a phase, several years back, when I read crime thrillers. I dined out on dissection and drooled over death and disintegrating cadavers.  The gorier the better - y’know, Patricia Cornwell and all that jazz.  But then I got…a bit murdered out.  I just sort of lost the trail.  I neve...

The anus is as beautiful as the ear

‘Handbrake,’ said James, calmly.‘Huh?’ said I, deafly.‘Handbrake,’ said James, louder and firmer.‘It’s on,’ said I, reassuringly.‘NOT HARD ENOUGH!’ said James, yanking it up.‘Oh,’ said I, frowning. ‘Were we going backwards?’‘Er, Mum?’‘Yeah?’‘Oh Mum.  You’re not alright, are you?’
Never were truer words spoken.  I’m not remotely alright.  I’m alwrong. I have this…lurgy thingy. Cold, virus, wotnot. Came out of nowhere last week.  So I attacked it with my usual weapon of choic...

Sex and not shopping (okay, mainly not shopping)

Nobody believes me when I say I don’t like shopping.  But seriously, it’s true, I don’t.  Maybe I got it all out of my system when I was consumer editor for City Limits magazine (a bit of an oxymoron, many people thought but, hey, socialists like to shop too, it seems). I mean, I do shop, of course I do – but only when things are absolutely necessary (which, to be frank, isn’t that often).  James grows like a weed and so, yup, he needs gear.  But generally he sends me a li...

Puddle people, pseudo penises and Pinterest (repinned)

I’ve talked about Pinterest before so forgive another musing. But really, the more I use it, the more I prowl around, the more – odd I find it.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I still find it hugely useful.  I keep mood boards for my novels there and they jumpstart my imagination if it’s on go-slow. I have what I hope are inspirational boards for readers of my non-fiction books – lately I’ve been pinning seasonal recipes and lifestyle type stuff on The Natural Year board and adding more informa...

Gardening as beyond Call of Duty

There is torture and then there is…gardening.  I know, I know, what I’m going to say will be anathema to so many of you. Saying you don't like gardening is like saying you don't like babies or kittens or cupcakes (ummm, on second thoughts, let's not go there - I want to keep a few readers). But honesty compels me to admit the unadmittable.  I bloody HATE gardening.  I am sitting here, right now, at my desk, with sweat pouring down my forehead, dripping steadily onto the keyboar...

"Give the baby an extra dollop of pesticide-sprayed carrots"

So, I was reading the other day about how “the health benefits” of organic foods are being called into question. It was written by a guy called Harry Wallop and was a curious piece, strangely triumphal. The writer joyfully admitted that he would lie to his wife about there being no organic milk left at the shop so he could score the small victory of buying non-organic.  His ‘little protest’ as he put it against the ‘tyranny’ of expensive organic food, sounding just like an obnoxious litt...

Oh bugger!

Warning – contains f****ing rudery

Am I too crude? Do I swear too much?  I’ve been wondering lately, about my fondness for the vulgar. The other day James persuaded me to come to a badminton evening at the village hall. Why? I dunno – end of the holidays I suppose and his boredom had reached a new slough.  Anyhow, I missed an easy shot rather spectacularly and shot out a plosive ‘Bugger!’  A frown appeared from the other side of the net. ‘Oh shit, I’m so sorry,’ I said, terribly...