Keris Stainton's Blog, page 52

Feel the fear and… you know.

Just as I was trying to find something to blog about, I spotted this Bear Grylls quote on Twitter (thanks to @CeeJaytheAuthor):

"The greatest mistake you can make in life is to be continually fearing you will make one."

So. True. And I wasted too many years that way. But more importantly, it reminded me of this clip, which makes me laugh like a drain (from about 40 seconds).

What would you wish for?

I'm talking about wishes over at Girls Heart Books today.

Come and tell us what you wish for when you make a wish (unlimited wishes/riches not allowed!).

New Year's Day

‎"…We will open the book. It's pages are blank. We are going to put words on them ourselves. The book is called 'Opportunity' and it's first chapter is 'New Year's Day…"
Edith Lovejoy Pierce

{Photo via Stephanie Perkins, quote via Lisa Clark.}

52 Books: Ruby Redfort – Look into My Eyes by Lauren Child

One of the things I'd like to do this year is to review more books, so I thought I'd set myself one of those challenges everyone's so fond of (and I'm so fond of starting and then forgetting about). So the plan is I'm going to review a book a week. Of course I've only just thought of doing it and it's the 8th, so I'm saving this one retrospectively. But it was the first book I read this year, honest.

I'm a huge fan of Lauren Child's books – her picture books and her Clarice Bean books for older children. Ruby Redfort is a character in the Clarice Bean books and I was pretty excited when I heard Child was giving Ruby her own book. Ruby's a pretty cool customer: "she's a genius code-cracker, a daring detective, and a gadget-laden special agent who just happens to be a thirteen-year-old girl."

If you've read the Clarice Bean books, Look Into My Eyes is a great introduction to how Ruby came to be a secret agent, but even if you haven't heard of Ruby before, this book works perfectly well on its own.

Ruby is cool and funny (particularly on the subject of her dopey parents) and the plot is actually really gripping in parts. I did think that Ruby sounded a lot younger than 13 and I'm not entirely sure who the book is aimed at – whether teen or MG girls will actually like it – but I really enjoyed it. Plus it's great to have a book like this with a female lead who can (almost) totally look after herself.

So long, 2011

Despite starting about as badly as possible with my dad dying at the end of 2010, 2011 has been an incredible year for me, personally and professionally. I was going to write a big retrospective post, but I'm still full of cold and really can't be bothered, so here's a list of just some of the things that made 2011 such a great year:

Spending lots more time with friends and family. 

Me and D's 15th wedding anniversary. 

Being interviewed on TV…

… and on radio twice (once with Harry!). 

Organising Authors for Japan, which raised £13,500. 

Discovering two completely awesome TV shows in Friday Night Lights and Parks & Recreation.

Seeing Take That, Bucks Fizz, Matt Goss and Todd Rundgren live.

Featherdown Farm. 

Taking Harry and Joe to see Show Me Show Me live. 

Della Says: OMG! shortlisted for the Lancashire Book of the Year award. 

Publication of Jessie Hearts NYC (and it being on Waterstone's 'Teen fiction we love' list and Book of the Month in WH Smiths). 

Lovely holiday in Northumberland, despite the rain. 

Wall-e on the big screen in Manchester, despite the rain. 

Hosting a course in Writing YA. 

Fab weekend in Liverpool. 

Doing a school visit to my old high school. 

LA with my gorgeous friend Stella. 

Writing two whole books and getting a new deal with Orchard. 

Doing a mini tour of Lancashire libraries and actually having fun.

David's surprise overnight in Lytham.  

My first book signing. 

Disneyland Paris with my lovely family. 

Joe's first nativity. 

Thank you all so much for reading (both the blog and the books) and for being so supportive. Have a great night tonight and roll on 2012!

Photo of me in LA, taken by Stella

Happy Holidays

We're going to be offline (well, you know, apart from phones and iPods…) for the next few days, so I just wanted to wish everyone a wonderful, magical Christmas. Lots of love to you all.

Ms Maker (and two minions)

Ooh la la la la… (if you don't have small children you won't know what I'm on about) this week we've been mostly MAKING stuff. I know! Me doing anything "crafty" with the kids is almost unheard of because I find it deeply boring and I'm also one of those really annoying people who wants things done properly and so can't stand to see a tiny child sticking a wheel onto, say, the roof of a picture of a car. I irritate myself no end. But this week, I don't know, something came over me – maybe it was Christmas spirit, maybe it was just that there was nothing good on the TV, but we've been crafting.

On Monday, Joe wanted to make a sandcastle and I figured we could fashion a sandcastle picture with some brown paper. But then Harry said, "If you want to be even more creative…" and wrapped some brown paper round a cup. So we made a 3D sandcastle and it was ace.

Later the same day, I decided a snow fight was in order, but there wasn't any snow. So we made snowballs out of kitchen roll and much fun was had. (Particularly when David came home and as soon as he opened the door, me and Joe let him have it with as many "snowballs" as we could hold.)

On Wednesday, I decided to take inspiration from Zoe at the wonderful Playing by the Book and make cornflour gloop. I first did this at a Parentcraft class I did a few years ago and was fascinated by it, then I made some for Harry when he was a toddler, but he wouldn't even touch it. It's really easy, literally just cornflour and water and I also bought some red food colouring to jazz things up a bit. I put down a blanket and newspaper and we all rolled up our sleeves ("Yike Katy!" – Joe) and dug in. It feels so peculiar – my favourite thing is rolling the gloop into a ball between my palms and then letting it melt through my fingers. Joe and Harry liked it dribbling off their fingers in long semi-solid strands. We must have played with it for about an hour and then I told them to go up to the bathroom, touching as little as possible. I totally forgot that Joe still uses his hands to help him up the stairs: two little pink powdery handprints on every step!

Last time I was in the library, I grabbed Nigella Lawson's Feast because it was right there at the door, I love Nigella and I love, you know, food. I read through it, admiring the recipes but thinking there's no way I could make any of it and then came across Granola Muffins. I'm a recent convert to granola and it's now my second-favourite breakfast (after peanut butter and jam on toast) so I was intrigued. Last night I remembered to borrow a muffin tray from my mother-in-law and this morning I checked we had all the ingredients and, miraculously, we did (except for buttermilk, but I googled and found you can use 1/4 milk 3/4 yoghurt instead).

Joe came to help – "Mixin', Mama!" – and it was all pretty straightforward. In the oven for 25 minutes and they actually came out looking like muffins. Last time I tried to make muffins they were stodgy, incredibly heavy, and almost inedible. These were a bit dry and chewy, but actually pretty nice. Harry declared his "Delicious". Joe agreed that his was "Deeyicious" adding "Muffin nice, Mama!" I'm not surprised he was surprised.

And then, bolstered by the success of the muffins, we made salt dough stars. I've been meaning to make salt dough for ages, but didn't realise it was actually quite as easy as it is. This didn't go quite so well, with Joe getting annoyed when his stars stuck to the table and screwing up Harry's stars in protest, which resulted in him going to bed for a time out and staying there for a two-hour kip! Harry and I finished the stars though and, while they were in the oven, all was peaceful… (Harry watched The Sarah Jane Adventures and Deadly 60, while I watched Parks and Recreation, read Rachel Johnson's A Diary of The Lady, and did the washing up.)

We've just now decorated them and although it didn't take very long, we all enjoyed it. And now we've got some star decorations for next year's tree. Rainbow Hair at the front and Starface at back right are Harry's; Rainbow Star in the middle and Santa back left mine; and Bonfire on the right and Stabbing on the left are Joe's (Rainbow Hair is my favourite.)

Gradually, then suddenly…

I keep thinking of the above Hemingway quote in relation to Joe talking. Joe was 35 months old yesterday (i.e. he'll be 3 in a month) and he's talking. Harry didn't really start talking until he was 3 and even then he would pattern speech but without words (if you're interested – or bored – you can watch a video of him doing it here).

So when Joe started saying words – real words! – it freaked me and David out a bit. I compared it to hearing a cat speak, it was so unexpected. And then he started putting words together and we were even more impressed.

For a couple of months now, I've been saying to David, "He's saying sentences! It's really cool!" and then, in the last couple of weeks, I realised that he's not just saying words, sentences, whatever, he's, you know, talking.

And I love it so much. I love the way he pronounces words. I love the way he forms sentences. It's just so incredibly cute. One of his current favourites is, whenever he hears music, "Yet's dance, Mama!" I could probably quite happily tweet everything that comes out of Joe's mouth because the novelty just isn't wearing off. Every night when we put him in bed, he says, "Down'tairs, Mama! Jus' ten minute!" and it makes me laugh. Every single time. (Partly because he tries to show me 'ten minutes' with his hands…)

The other morning he said, "Argh! Mon'ter!" I wasn't sure at first what a 'monter' was, but then I realised: Monster. And then Joe said, "F'ighten Joe wit!" and I had to pin him down and squeeze him for cuteness.

One year today

It's a year today since my dad died and I still can't quite believe it.

The weird thing I've found since he died is that I mainly think of him  as he was in this photo, which was taken a long time ago. By the time he died, he'd been ill for at least five years and didn't really seem like himself at all (he had Parkinson's).

(It's the opposite of my memories of my mum. Mum had MS and then leukaemia and I find my memories of her are more when she was ill than before – maybe because I was much younger when she became ill.)

My dad was very funny. When we went on holiday he'd befriend everyone immediately and we'd go in the bar and it would be like Cheers: "Harry!" Everyone loved him. He could be awful, obviously (can't everyone) and we were never really close like some of my friends are with their dads – I could never describe myself as a "Daddy's girl" – but the majority of my memories of him now are good.

I don't want to be one of those people who, as soon as someone dies, thinks they never did anything wrong and pisses everyone off my talking about what a saint they were – I know my friends will have heard me complaining about my dad a lot over the years – but now that he's gone, I find that stuff just doesn't seem that important to me anymore. And then I find myself wondering why I couldn't have let go of it, forgotten about it, forgiven him for it when he was alive. But I suppose it just doesn't work that way. Not for me, anyway. And not really for my family – we never really talked about anything like that and I certainly never talked about any emotional stuff with my dad.

Anyway. I miss him. More than I thought I would (I know that sounds awful, but it's true).

When I told Harry today was the anniversary of 'Grandad Nincompoop's' death, he said, "We should have a sad celebration." So today I'm going to introduce the boys to Dad's fave – country music. I think I'll start with some Dolly…

I *heart* Sesame Street

I know. I've probably mentioned it. Many times. But I really do, it's just wonderful. I bought this a few years ago and, at the beginning, it says something about how it's for adult nostalgia "and may not suit the needs of today's preschool child." Well. That's balls. It's wonderful for today's preschool child. In fact, I'd wager it's better than a lot of current shows.

(I also saw someone describe it as "not very PC" which is also toss. It was PC before PC was a thing: presenters of different sexes, races, ages and disabilities, but without making a big deal of it. I suspect the person was confusing "political correctness" with "health and safety", as so many people do, because the original titles have two small children walking through New York alone. Don't let your small children walk through New York alone and you'll be fine.)

We've got every episode of the Sesame Street podcast on the iPod and we all love them. And they have celebrity guests, which often livens up a bedtime routine: Mark Ruffalo (for Anne-Marie)! Sofia Vergara! Jim Parsons (for Caroline), Taye Diggs & Idini Menzel, Amy Poehler (for Diane), Jake Gyllenhaal (for Stella)! I'll stop now. (Neil Patrick Harris!)

Also, since today's the 20th, here's a Sesame Street animation for The Number 20 that made me smile.