Teddies and Pickles

Story 6

"I'm very proud of my name," said Hodgepodge bear, "It's got a long history if I could only bring it to mind." You see I have lived such an eventful life, the adventures have rather all melded together like a sticky marshmallow, mmm marshmallow. I like marshmallows especially in the hot chocolate at bed time. Did I tell you the story of when I rescued a cocoa bean from a jungle elephant. Buttoneye Bear, would have rolled his eyes if it were possible to; instead he sighed. Hodgepodge bear was renowned for going off on these tangents, and could never tell a tale from start to end. Actually this was most likely where he got his name from; his tales really were a hodge bodge of mixed memories.

Story 7

"You put WHAT in the Christmas pudding?!" cried Maria in a panic. "A secret pickle like you said" Markles eyes were wide, with terror. "Did I get it wrong", he whispered. Maria's face had twisted into a bemused grimace as she pictured a slimy green pickle living in the centre of the Christmas pud. She couldn't be angry though. Only Markles would think it logical to put a pickle in a pud. This the same man who recited science equations and such gobbledeguck for fun. "I said nickle darling, I'm not sure a pickle is going to bring anyone much luck". Speak for yourself thought Doxie, their shaggy springer spaniel. I like pickle pud!

N.B. Mark would like to point out that under no circumstances would he ever put a pickle in a xmas pud. Unless of course he was getting Maria back for spreading nasty pickle stories about him.

More hotpenning fun - The Snodgebucket

Story 5 

"And this," continued Liz, "is a Snodgebucket - I think you'll find it very useful. "Oohh I have never before seen a Snodgebucket", said Maria. "I shall put it to use straight away, I am sure my desk is overflowing with snodge".

A snodgebucket - a place of hibernating jottings, and the last vestage of hope for a desperate writer

Now for those of you not familiar with snodge, let me enlighten you. You see even here in random creative scribble world we are still plagued by jargon, and Snodge stands for:

S - scrappy

N - notes

O - of

D - dubious

G - general

E - eloquence

Thus the purpose of a snodge bucket is to gather all of the these ramblings into one coherent place. You non-writers out there are most likely more used to the Snodgebucket's more common name 'bin'. However the true writer knows that even out of the most seemingly awful nonsensical writing, an ounce of pure brilliance may one day appear. It is thus paramount that all works in progress be kept in a Snodgebucket, until such a time as this brilliance is recognised.


I have two more to come, but first to cook pretend xmas dinner

Bye for now

Maria x

Hotpenning Fun

Firstly I must say a huge thank you to Lizzy for giving me all those sentences to work on. I know it has taken a little while but here you go. Hope you like them!

Story 1

Mrs Wicken gazed at the lump in the straw suspiciously, it was not Mr Wicken's usual toilet spot and so she wondered what on earth it could be. Wait a minute it just moved! Now that really was strange. A wriggly little poo? The more it wriggled the more it got covered in straw until it looked like a spiky little conker shell.

"Mr Wicken's!" yelled Mrs Wicken's. "Come explain this wandering spiky yellow poo"

Well Mr Wicken's was as taken aback as Mrs Wicken's. "I promise you chickypoo I haven't eaten anything that could give me that dicky a tummy".
"Cheep" said the scurrying spikey yellow poo. Bashing into another straw bale in blind haste.
"Talking spikey yellow poo!" said Mrs Wicken's. She was having quite a blond moment. Poor baby Wicken's had transformed beyond all recognition. 

Story 2

Oh my god! Look at that SLUGH cried Mrs Bear - NOW what are we going to do? Slugh? Whats a slugh? Quick to the google machine. Maria typed frantically but to no avail the words meaning evaded her. Perhaps it had something to do with that lovely place Slough? Were they known to Slugh? Or perhaps even Slur? Maybe a negative comment directed at Slough is known as a Slugh?

Slightly chuffed with herself for creating a new definition Maria plonked the giant Collins dictionary on the table and looked up the chaps name who made it. I'm sure the people of Slough would love my new word to be in the next edition! Ever the optimist she wrote to the publisher the very same day. Of course she had to add some examples of the words use:

1. Slough is a dump
2. Slough has lots of ploughs and likes to play with cows

Well how rude said the publisher we wouldn't want to encourage these slanderous words against the beautiful and culturally diverse Slough!
And so Maria's definition was forgotten except in her head. And although it was naughty she smiled when she thought of a bad thing about Slough. 

Story 3

"Hmmm, Writer's chalk, that sounds useful" - Maria poked it experimentally wondering if it was edible. A quick lick to get the creative juices flowing. Urghh! gross, OK so it is not edible. I know I will smear it on my head and then my mind will absorb its special powers. Markles walks in to find his wife with a white head sucking on a pencil. "Honestly darling I thought you were sane when I married you". Startled Maria spins round. "I was in the 'zone', dreaming of creativity". I repeat "I thought you were sane when I married you". Shaking his head with happy disdain Markles walked away leaving Maria on her imaginary cloud of thoughts.

Story 4

"Today," said Maria to her reflection in the mirror, "I am going to shock the world!" I have had a yes week but it was challenging enough. I want more!! I will systematically think of all the things people wouldn't expect little old me to do. 

1. Die hair purple and cut into mohecan - add glitter and stars for girly touch
2. Denounce all clothes, none of them suit me anyway, nudey is the way forward
3. Order KFC because it is finger licking good no matter what the greenies may tell me
4. From my headquarters - bed; I will hack the Internet sites of the BBC and other major TV people and broadcast my evil plan
5. Unbeknowst to everyone, I am a genius at physics and such stuff. By rolling under my bed and lifting a 'lost' shoe you will find a secret button to my laboratory. Password = where's your shoe mate?
6. he he he, just thinking of my mischief has me excited! For I have been busy this last year. Not baking but making! A GIANT ELECTROFIA. 
7. By pretending I fancied the head boffin at NASA I snuck it up into space and attached it to the whole earth, like a head brace.
8. The super sun charged (oh yes renewable evil power) GIANT ELECTROFIA is going to shock the world!!!
9. You ready to feel the buzz world?

Suddenly all across the world, people shuddered at a sharp twinge that went through their bodies. Jellies shook with extra vigour, rattles rattled until they could rattle no more. Indeed the rattle snakes tail fell right off. But there was one smiling face. Sat on a washing machine in Dorset, Alice's face was a picture. "Golly gosh that was brilliant!".

I realise that these stories are very odd, and it does make me question what on earth goes on in my head, but hey its all good fun. I will complete more hotpenning soon. Thanks again Lizzy, and more are always welcome 

Mad Maria xxx

The Best Baked Alaska in the World

Rather randomly Baked Alaska popped into my head and instantly reminded me of my parents. The baked alaska is a running joke in our family, in that my poor dad has been promised one for 21 years! Ever since my parents got married, my mum who supposedly makes a gorgeous baked alaska, has failed to deliver. Worse then that, she has raised his hopes only to dash them. Two such examples spring to mind:

1. If you buy me a food processor I will be able to make you one (always the optimist he fell for it)
2. All the family is here so I will make one - oh Sarah is going out, it's too big for three

Now, I realise it is a little mean pointing the finger at mum in this way, but my mind began imagining how brilliant this pud must be for my dad to still cling relentlessly to this little dream, that one day a beautiful baked alaska will be sitting there steaming hot on the table waiting for him to devour it.

Having never personally had a proper baked alaska, I don't know what all the fuss is about. But I can picture my dad drooling over the sticky caramel flamed meringue. Stabbing hopefully with his spoon deep into the cold heart, still a little fearful that it may all be a mirage and further signs of going senile. The warm spread of joy when he pulls out a perfect mix of cold ice-cream and warm gooey meringue, and slips it into his ever broadening smiley mouth.

No doubt a delight to the tummy as much as the mind! All those years, and it is so worth the wait! And here lies the problem. I think my dad may have put the baked alaska on such a high pedestal that my mum is now too afraid to make it. This was her speciality dish, what if it goes wrong? Honestly mum, I know it might dent the pride a little if it was as perfect as your usual baking, but do you really think dad would mind licking the bowl of a botched attempt? And what if it goes right? You can be the proven Queen of Baked Alaska's! Either way, dad will be chuffed to have finally had one.

Well dad, I have done all I can to persuade mum to bake you one, do let me know if I have succeeded.

Much love,

Maria xx


p.s. here is the recipe for the one in the picture www.bbcgoodfood.com/recipes/1936/chocolate-orange-bombe-alaska-with-hot-chocolate-s 

Bad Poetry

I am entertaining myself again, and the brain has gone into poetry mode. Sadly my brain is rather useless at poetry, and thus created two rather awful poems. I am sharing them with you, firstly for your amusement, and secondly to prove and encourage you the reader, that there are people worse then you at writing rhyme.

Unnamed

I wrote a poem for you dear

I hope one day you'll hear

Though you seem very far away

I know the price I'll have to pay

To have you home again some day

Honest Love

Look upon me honestly

and see what my eyes see

My smile is false

It's lies you're fed

You know my heart is dead

I tricked you into loving me

But now I'll set you free

Just don't look back

Your life's been spared

No longer are you snared

I would love to read some better attempts.

p.s. Sorry they are rather gloomy, for a happy person I do tend to write the macabre! All is well in my world so no need for panicky calls mum :)

The writing must go on

Monday brought with it a sad end to my creative writing class, and in the run up to it, I was left feeling rather worried that without my compulsory two and half hours of pure written indulgence, my mind would cease to write.

I still find it rather daunting to sit in front of paper or laptop and just create - although the realise the irony, given that is exactly what I am doing now. The point is, I no longer have any one feeding me ideas. The hot penning exercises were perfect. One sentence however random and three minutes to let the mind and pen flow. Now though, I have to come up with my own, or, and this is what I am hoping for, YOU could help? Perhaps join in as well?

Why not pop a sentence in the comment box, and I promise (brownies honour) to write up and publish on my blog the end the result.

Thanks in advance, I look forward to writing for you soon

Maria xx

The mother of all Housewives!

I realise that this is fast becoming a homage to my writing course, but the more I call upon my sub-conscious for inspiration the more concerned I am, that I am actually far odder than first feared. To demonstrate the point the last three days writing has included:

1. The life of a bread bun - told from the point of view of a bread bun

2. The wine induced urge to create giant ironing piles by emptying my wardrobe - I did this!

3. His and hers raincoats

Oh God. It has just dawned on me....there is a link between all three. I am becoming the mother of all housewives!!! Baking has infiltrated my dreams, I am beginning to see ironing as a pleasurable activity and if not restrained my sub conscious will allow me to purchase his and hers raincoats! HELP!!! I need to start writing about mad nights on the town, the hidden joys of kebabs and left over curry....arrghhh my mind is struggling to come up with other fun less housewifely things. I may already be doomed!

What am I?

Another quick blog relating to my much loved creative writing course. The great thing about doing a course like this is that it forces you to do things that you haven't done in ages, or perhaps have never done. Take for instance our last challenge - to write a poem! Something I haven't done in a very very long time, and something I have always struggled with.

The Challenge

We all brought in a mystery wrapped item, popped them in the middle of the table, each chose one and scurried off to a corner where no one else could see us unwrap it. The challenge was to write a poem about the object, without saying what it was, but personifying - giving it an attitude or emotions. Here is mine, can you guess what it is?

My ash filled bowels
tell of past letters and scraps
I can destroy your darkest secret
and warm your now cleansed soul

Air bellows through my body
tainted with a musky past
Heavily used but not abused
my every millimetre has a
trace of my use
A dark shadow of memories
Burnt but not forgotten

Well? Any guesses? To be honest I didn't know what it was when I was writing about it, but here is an similar image of what I had to work with



Does the picture help? Well, I was later informed that it is a bee smoker. The smoke calms the bees while the beekeeper swipes the honey away. Thus less chance of being stung :) You learn something new everyday.

The Cake Queen!

It has been commented that my facebook status regularly hints at an obscene level of baking activity, leading one friend to label me The Cake Queen - a title I am very happy to adopt! This led to me wonder, how much baking of new recipes and naughty treats I had actually done in the last month?

This week
1 cucumber salad
1 veggie moussaka
16 bread rolls
8 fruit scones
1 apple crumble
1 pleated bread loaf
1 caramelised red onion, mushroom and feta cheese tart

Last week
1 butternut squash crumble
1 pleated bread loaf
1 apple crumble
1 bakewell tart
1 batch of of treacle toffee
12 lemon and sultana cookies

OK I am going to stop now, I think we get the picture...I am slightly addicted to baking. No cakes though. Perhaps a more appropriate title would be the Baking Queen. This does rather explain why my jeans have been feeling ever so much tighter recently. In reality the scales broke,well ran out of batteries, and it appears I sub-consciously decided it is better to eat cake and be blissfully unaware of the impact. But I foresee a dark day on the horizon. An evil day when baking will have to be sidelined in exchange for sweat inducing gym workouts and salad. The only muffins on my mind will be the muffin tops cascading either side of my trousers! Scary!!! No worries I will swap sugar for Splenda, that will make my baking healthier.....

The best laid plans of Maria and rats

A friend rather foolishly told me you could buy harnesses for rats which would enable you to take them for a walk. I know it's a very odd concept, and one if put into practise is bound to raise a few eyebrows - but hey I am known to be a little eccentric, so off I went to the shops.

Roll time forward and I have two harnesses and two rats in the same room but no where near one another. I stupidly let them play on the floor and they are both hiding under the bed. 45 minutes later the bed has been moved back and forth and one rat (Ruppie) has been caught. A further 10 minutes later and Roddy is caught and sat unwillingly on my knee having his harness fitted. After much squirming and a matrix of scratches on my arm, he is walking on a lead! It lasts 1 minute tops. The harness is too loose, he escapes and is under the bed again. Dejar vu sets in and it is another 15 minutes of scrabbling under the bed until Roddy is back in his house.

Rats 1 - Maria 0

Better luck next time?

The Vanity of Iguana's

Another long spell without writing on my blog, but better late than never. Keen to whip myself into action I have started on three new courses, TEFL, Drawing and the focus of this blog - Creative Writing.

It really surprises me how easily very odd things that spring together into a surreal but coherent story. One of our warm up exercises resulted in one of my best bits of writing so far. I really encourage others to give it a go.

Step 1 - Think of 10-12 categories e.g. Towns, Furniture, Reptiles, Celebrities etc

Step 2 - Think and write down one example for each of these categories. the first thing that comes to mind e.g. Norwich, Table, Iguana, Bruce Willis etc

Step 3 - The aim is to use all the examples you came up with. Set an alarm for 10mins and start writing!

Tip. Don't worry about what you are writing, just go with what ever flows it doesn't have to make sense. Have fun with it.

Here is my attempt:

Towns/Cities = Norwich
Reptile = Iguana
Street = Bracondale
Desert = Antarctica
Item of Clothing = Bobble Hat
Pudding = Jam Roly Poly
Vegetable = Pumpkin
Sea = Irish
Job = Detective
Celebrity = Laurence Luellen Bowen
Pet = Rat
Furniture = Dressing Table
Illness = Alzheimer's


Jasmina stared into the mirror, and basked at her wonderful reflection. She was without doubt the most beautiful iguana, and she knew it. Her dressing room had been personally designed by Laurence Luellen Bowen and her vintage 50's dressing table with its large round mirror and symmetrical spacious drawers was the centre piece. She sat for hours on the plump velvet stool surrounded by the potions and make up that her natural beauty didn't really require.

Her home in Norwich, on the most prestigious of streets, Bracondale, had its handful of characters. Roddy was one of them. Although a rat he had the panache of a lion and paraded himself about. He invited himself in everywhere and to everything. Irish by birth he had travelled far and wide, doing various work as a detective and spy for MI5. On clapping sight of Jasmina he saw her for what she was; a vain and shallow excuse of a life form.

You are wasted in front of the mirror, travel with me. Broaden your horizons. Antarctica, Peru, India. You can eat jam roly poly in Scotland, Pumpkin soup in Mexico. I will buy you the finest alpaca bobble hat.

To Jasmina it was just babble. It was widely know Roddy was suffering from Alzheimer's. The tales he told could or may not be reality. Memories or a desperate jigsaw of what may have been. No she was quite happy in front of the mirror.


Very odd I know, but great fun and it made a few people giggle. Do let me know if you give it a go and how you got on!

Maria xxx

What have I been up to

*Caution, this blog went slightly out of control in length and thus requires coffee and cake to be consumed while reading.

Okay, so the whole blog thing was meant to encourage me to write more but true to form it got swept aside by all the other things competing for my attention. So quick update, what have I been doing with myself?

1. Sailing
2. Copious amounts of baking
3. Travelling - Wales and Manchester
4. Life planning - is there anything more pointless

So firstly the sailing thing. This is a perfect example of never knowing what is around the corner. One minute I am nattering to a stranger at the swimming pool, next it's an invite round for a drink, then scroll on a couple of months and I am being taught to sail and yachting about the Norfolk broads every week. You can't really get much better luck than that! I love it!

Setting off first thing in the morning, with a dusky haze hovering on the water, the reeds are alive with the sound of birds, but try as you might you very rarely glimpse them. It is just blissful and in a gentle wind you can just sit back and let your mind wander. Then comes the adrenaline kick. The wind picks up and its full alert as your head flicks back and forth to the birgie (a little flag on the top of the mast that indicates the wind direction), so you can maximise the wind, feel that tug on the sheets (ropes) and capture the beautiful sound of water on the bow (front of the boat). You really are harnessing nature. From a greenie point of few, its free transport, and breathtaking nature all rolled into one = perfection. I could quite happily chatter on about sailing for quite a while, as my long suffering husband can vouch for. But maybe more another time, least to say it's brilliant and if you are ever given the opportunity to try it, do so!

So next topic, the baking, another joy of mine. If I am ever feeling down or feel a desperate pang for chocolate (the latter happens far more often than the former) it's straight to the kitchen. This is a hobby of mine my husband fully supports, and bless him, he eats my failures and successes without any complaint. This week has been a bit of a bumper baking session. It started with fruit scones - which were divine, if I do say so myself. Although quite a bit smaller than the ones my mum makes but then the Price family are known for their huge portions. Next came my first attempt at a gooseberry fool, following a phone call out of the blue from a friend with a huge bag of free gooseberries. Always a bonus when the ingredients are free. Poor Mark (my husband), not only does he dislike gooseberries (well he couldn't really remember, so was presuming that was the case), but he certainly doesn't like custard. So you can take a pretty sure guess that this wasn't his favourite pudding. Note to myself - never serve a fool at a dinner party. Having not made one before I wasn't sure what it was meant to look like, but congealed slop will never be a crowd pleasure, regardless of actual taste - which was OK considering.

Currently wafting from the oven is supposedly 'The greatest cake in the world'. With a title like that you just have to give it a go. I then realised the recipe was evidently written by someone who didn't bake much and was a little lax on the old measurements. Never mind though, it tested the creativity as I flung what I thought looked right in a bowl and gave it a good stir. The bowl licking tasted good, so that's a good sign. I should say at this moment, reading the recipe it said to put the cake in a 9 by 13 pan. My husband, who clearly doesn't bake thought that meant a saucepan! Anyone own a rectangular saucepan? :) Having explained basic geometry to him, I dug out a suitable oven dish. And it has beeped, it's ready!! Yum, it looks great, but better let it cool a little before I munch it all.

The third part of what is becoming a rather mammoth blog, is the travelling. Friends have a habit of coming and going, especially when you are young, but there is a handful you keep a hold on. For me, one of these is Ruth and I have known her since high school, and love her to bits. Well, when her very conscientious husband messaged me, asking me to secretly visit her in Manchester for her birthday, of course I said yes. So then I had the fun of deciding how to get there. Expensive train with loads of time to read, or drive up on my own for the first time, but granted with free reign over which music could be played. Having secured a friends sat nav for the weekend I went by car, and am now a sat nav convert - brilliant wonderful things that they are!

Her face was a picture. She opened up the door, said hello and then actually looked at who it was. She was so shocked she burst into tears. Huge brownie points for her husband, she was one very happy bunny. Well the surprises kept coming and she was taken on her first ice skating adventure. The bruises on her bum and elbows are testament to how brave she was. She gave it full welly and I have no doubt she will be going again soon. Then it was off to the snooker/pool club, where women go free. Great to know if you want a cheap afternoon out; and blokes do like women who are good at pool (as long as they don't beat them). The evening was rounded off with a good old natter, loads of Chinese food, and rather randomly a cup of tea. In bed by 11pm my my we are getting old :)

From there it was off to Wales to visit the family. In the space of 12 hours I saw, 2 great nans, 2 grandad, 2 nans, 1 aunt (her turtle, 3 guinea pigs, 2 dogs, 3 rats, and 2 other small rodents that have chewed the walls) and a dad. So a busy day filled with enough gossip to make any script writer for Eastenders jealous. My friends at home sometimes wonder how I turned out so normal (or boring as Mark sometimes jokes).

News just in: Mark has tried the cake and the first word is....Strange....It's not the best cake in the world, but its edible in that it tastes quite nice, is very moist, and has plenty of chocolate in it. But there is certainly something odd about it. I will be very surprised if he doesn't ask for an old favourite, Mocha muffins, to be baked as well.

Well on to the final chapter. Life planning. I have always had a plan, and I think it is fair to say like most life plans it has veered slightly. Don't get me wrong. I am educated - tick ; have a lovely partner - tick ; nice house - tick ; limited money woes - tick ; pets - tick. And these have come in a bumper supply, I certainly didn't expect to be married at my age. I don't doubt for a minute I am very lucky. There is however a gap that I never thought would appear. Work. I have always been career driven and a bit of a workaholic, but since being married I have been a housewife/lady of leisure, and that is rather odd for me. So what to do about it. The obvious thing is to get a job. This is increasingly easier said than done now that we are in a recession, but something else struck me. Not a single one of my friends likes their job. They spend the majority of their lives doing something that really doesn't fulfill them. Given this, I really can't complain that I don't have to go bang my head against a brick wall while lining some unknowns silk pockets every single day.

But I do want to be productive, so a bit of structure to my day is important. I currently lead a very busy life, sailing, swimming, doodling, drinking coffee, cleaning, baking, and nattering. You get the picture. As a random chap I met in the graveyard said, 'when you're young you dig many shallow holes and achieve little, when your older you will learn to dig a few deep holes and find what you want'. As random nattering with strangers goes this was up there, but it does make sense. I have lost direction and am not really sure what I want to do or achieve. I have always been prone to jumping on others passions, in a rather hit and miss fashion. Some I love, some I don't. I don't think there is necessarily anything wrong with that, but it would be nice to look in the mirror and say 'I'm Maria and I love.....' and the answer be something slightly more productive than coffee and a good chinwag with a friend. That's another thing, I love to share the things that I love doing; I really need a social outlet. My poor husband in the space of one morning, has looked at my cake before and after cooking, read the draft of my blog (all of which he has heard me say in one form or another prior to writing), and listened to me whitter on about my family. You gotta love him, he puts up with a lot.

Anyway I am not really answering my question of what I want to be or do, I suppose I will just keep myself open to what ever is around the corner. But I will certainly keep up the writing. That is something I am sure I love doing for myself.

Crikey this is one long blog entry! I think I may go add an advisory note at the top.

Bye for now, Love
Maria xxx

Why write?

Spurred on by reading a friends sons blog, I set up my own with the intention of writing more often. So having spent a while getting my blog looking how I want it, I just re-read some of my earlier writing. Oh dear! Not to jump straight to a downer but I lost my dog recently and following his death I was evidently feeling poetically charged and wrote my first piece of prose in 10+ years.




I won't put it here unless you ask for it, but it made me think. I wrote it and really enjoyed the release it gave me. I got my feelings down and was very happy with my 'work'. Now though I can't help but chuckle as I re-read it. There was definitely a reason I hadn't written prose for 10+ years.

So maybe my creations arn't the pearls of genius I consider them to be at the time (gosh that sounds rather modest!). Does it matter? I suppose it all depends why your writing. Is it mainly for yourself, friends, family, or perhaps your hoping to hit the mainstream? They say practise makes perfect, but what is perfect? That again depends on your audience.

Well not to seem selfish but I am going to be writing for myself and if others like my ramblings that is a brilliant bonus. It may mean that when I re-read these entries in months/years to come, I will be doing so while shaking my head with a sympathetic if somewhat bewildered smile on my face, but hey at least I can be sure I was having fun when I wrote them and it all made sense at the time.

So there you are first rambling complete,

Bye for now, Maria xx