I love reading those little paragraphs in the glossy Sunday magazines which give you a few lines on all sorts of things you wouldn't otherwise get to see.
I came across one which said that to boost creativity you should go for a walk but without your mobile. Apparently this advice comes from David Strayer, professor of psychology at the University of Utah.
We often say "I can't get my head round it" when we're trying to explain that some situation has us stymied. "I need a bit of peace and quiet" we moan when all around us people are losing their heads. So it's not a new thought. In Professor Strayer's research he found that people who went into the wilderness without a mobile phone or other high tech device increased their problem-solving skills by 50%. My question is: did we need a survey to tell us that? When we're wrestling with that report which has to be finished by Friday don't we try and scrunch ourselves away in some corner, head down, and try to be invisible from the common demands of our colleagues?
Another article I read said that physical exercise or doing yoga in your lunch hour improved your physical and mental health. This bears out what Prof. Strayer says. Moving your body, stretching your muscles, walking of any kind is great to iron out those wrinkles in your brain.
The interesting thing about these bits of wisdom is that they tell us something we know already and I can just see working mothers throwing up their hands and demanding to know where they can get the time. Any mother of small children, whether she is a working mum or not, gets more than enough exercise - lifting toddlers and shopping, doing the ironing, dashing to kindergarten. So who needs yoga when you can get all that stretching at home? Usually, though, her head will be full of planning what she has to do next and after a day of toddler tantrums, her mental health might be on the brink of collapsing. The only time she can clear her thoughts is when the little ones are asleep and by then, if she is anything like I was when my kids were young, she won't feel up to anything more strenuous than a quick look at Strictly Come Dancing before she hits the sack. Maybe toddlers are just as good for your general health as all that exercise and yoga. It's a thought.
Saturday, 9 February 2013
Saturday, 2 February 2013
Follow that Dream
Apparently most people don't follow their dream according to some survey or other. Which got me thinking about dreams and surveys.
What kind of dream should we follow? The teenage dream of being asked out by that gorgeous fellow in school? So he asks you out - so maybe he's the world's greatest pain and all he has to recommend him is that lean athletic body and those sparkling white teeth when he smiles. End of dream (although if you're anything like me as a teenager, you probably won't notice that he's boring for some time).
What about a grown-up dream : I'd- love-to-be-a-doctor-kind-of-dream? That is more likely to come through and I think that anyone who has a definite idea of what they want to be, career-wise, is very likely to follow that dream. It requires hard work, patience and perseverance in most cases but it's worth it if you love what you work at. It's a bit of a bind if you find it isn't what you thought but nowadays you can have a stab at different careers and next time maybe you'll know what you want.
And then we have the grown up version of the Dream Man, the knight in shining armour on a white horse, well in a white Porsche maybe, with the scent of danger and Armani cologne about him, the man who is going to whisk us off our feet. Very unlikely we're going to meet him, isn't it? Not even two TV shows using all Gok's skill would make it more probable, I reckon. This is not necessarily a bad thing. There's so much competition for handsome eligible single guys it's kind of like jostling for the best bargain in the winter sales. Much better to accept something a little shop-worn and casual and family friendly with which you can be you and don't have the perpetual struggle of keeping his attention and fighting off the predators.
I'd like to know how they go about those surveys. Sometimes they tell you it was a "representative survey of 2000 people." But what is meant by representative? And what do they mean by "dream"? Do they mean our wildest dream such as living on a deserted island, preferably with our favourite film star - that'd be George Clooney for me although I'm not sure I'd enjoy seeing him every single minute of the day, in which case a DVD player would be preferable.
We know that we are not going to follow our wildest dream, we are not going to climb Mount Everest or win the New York marathon or be picked to star in the next Oscar-worthy movie. We could make these dreams come true if we really wanted to and some people do. But deep down inside we're quite content getting the 08.10 train every morning and that comfortable salary payment into our bank accounts. A whiff of adventure? Well, let's get out the holiday brochures.
What kind of dream should we follow? The teenage dream of being asked out by that gorgeous fellow in school? So he asks you out - so maybe he's the world's greatest pain and all he has to recommend him is that lean athletic body and those sparkling white teeth when he smiles. End of dream (although if you're anything like me as a teenager, you probably won't notice that he's boring for some time).
What about a grown-up dream : I'd- love-to-be-a-doctor-kind-of-dream? That is more likely to come through and I think that anyone who has a definite idea of what they want to be, career-wise, is very likely to follow that dream. It requires hard work, patience and perseverance in most cases but it's worth it if you love what you work at. It's a bit of a bind if you find it isn't what you thought but nowadays you can have a stab at different careers and next time maybe you'll know what you want.
And then we have the grown up version of the Dream Man, the knight in shining armour on a white horse, well in a white Porsche maybe, with the scent of danger and Armani cologne about him, the man who is going to whisk us off our feet. Very unlikely we're going to meet him, isn't it? Not even two TV shows using all Gok's skill would make it more probable, I reckon. This is not necessarily a bad thing. There's so much competition for handsome eligible single guys it's kind of like jostling for the best bargain in the winter sales. Much better to accept something a little shop-worn and casual and family friendly with which you can be you and don't have the perpetual struggle of keeping his attention and fighting off the predators.
I'd like to know how they go about those surveys. Sometimes they tell you it was a "representative survey of 2000 people." But what is meant by representative? And what do they mean by "dream"? Do they mean our wildest dream such as living on a deserted island, preferably with our favourite film star - that'd be George Clooney for me although I'm not sure I'd enjoy seeing him every single minute of the day, in which case a DVD player would be preferable.
We know that we are not going to follow our wildest dream, we are not going to climb Mount Everest or win the New York marathon or be picked to star in the next Oscar-worthy movie. We could make these dreams come true if we really wanted to and some people do. But deep down inside we're quite content getting the 08.10 train every morning and that comfortable salary payment into our bank accounts. A whiff of adventure? Well, let's get out the holiday brochures.
Saturday, 26 January 2013
What a week!
It all started over a week ago, of course, and now only the bones remain to be picked over but it was very entertaining while it lasted.
First of all there was Lance Armstrong and his sob and tell interview with Oprah. I think, though, that most if not all of the sobbing was done by the viewers. Here's a guy who is a proven cheat and up to now had refused to admit it, a guy who crushed anyone who mentioned the word "doping" in connection with his prowess, and there he sits, trying to look contrite. Sure he was in the wrong, he admits, answering "yes" to all those wild and weird names of drugs he'd taken which Oprah read out to him. But what, in the end, did it all mean? It seems to me that dear old Lance felt that he'd been penalized enough, and hey, what was the harm anyway, and could he now be admitted back into competitive sport, he isn't really such a bad guy?
I have a tip for you, Lance: winning isn't everything, sweetheart - get a life but if you plan on breaking into Hollywood, stick to farce, it's what you're best at.
Next there was Prince Harry returning from Afghanistan. He had to pay the price by giving an interview and intimating that he had possibly killed a few Taliban fighters. Whether this was a smart thing to admit is a moot point - anyone who loses his all at strip poker and gets photographed can't be too media savvy, I feel.
On the other hand, what did everyone think he was doing in Afghanistan- serving tea at four o'clock in the officers' mess? Keep calm and carry on, Harry.
And finally, the crowning moment: Obama's inauguration. Wasn't that lovely? A happy ending straight out of a Hollywood tear-jerker! Isn't it nice to have a glamorous leader in politics? OK, there are many who argue he hasn't done much, could do more, what-have-you. But for uplifting, feel-good stuff, it was hard to beat. I have to hand it to the Americans for their enthusiasm right across the board. If only History were always like this!
First of all there was Lance Armstrong and his sob and tell interview with Oprah. I think, though, that most if not all of the sobbing was done by the viewers. Here's a guy who is a proven cheat and up to now had refused to admit it, a guy who crushed anyone who mentioned the word "doping" in connection with his prowess, and there he sits, trying to look contrite. Sure he was in the wrong, he admits, answering "yes" to all those wild and weird names of drugs he'd taken which Oprah read out to him. But what, in the end, did it all mean? It seems to me that dear old Lance felt that he'd been penalized enough, and hey, what was the harm anyway, and could he now be admitted back into competitive sport, he isn't really such a bad guy?
I have a tip for you, Lance: winning isn't everything, sweetheart - get a life but if you plan on breaking into Hollywood, stick to farce, it's what you're best at.
Next there was Prince Harry returning from Afghanistan. He had to pay the price by giving an interview and intimating that he had possibly killed a few Taliban fighters. Whether this was a smart thing to admit is a moot point - anyone who loses his all at strip poker and gets photographed can't be too media savvy, I feel.
On the other hand, what did everyone think he was doing in Afghanistan- serving tea at four o'clock in the officers' mess? Keep calm and carry on, Harry.
And finally, the crowning moment: Obama's inauguration. Wasn't that lovely? A happy ending straight out of a Hollywood tear-jerker! Isn't it nice to have a glamorous leader in politics? OK, there are many who argue he hasn't done much, could do more, what-have-you. But for uplifting, feel-good stuff, it was hard to beat. I have to hand it to the Americans for their enthusiasm right across the board. If only History were always like this!
Saturday, 19 January 2013
What makes me do it?
I finally plucked up enough courage to publish Spate of Violence as an e-book on Amazon Kindle.
It was hard work but a lot of fun writing this novel. I must have revised it over a dozen times, tweaking a sentence here, adding a sentence there and deleting chunks of it which I thought didn't add to the story. The good thing about an e-book is that you don't have to make it a certain length. Nowadays a lot of publishers want what they call "blockbusters" - novels which are around 500 pages long. eSpate of Violence would be around 220 pages as a printed novel.
So now my baby is out there, taking its first tottering steps in the e-book world. I hope readers enjoy it because that is one of the reasons I wrote it. Writing what is in your heart is the only way to have fun. I can't otherwise explain why I sit down every morning after breakfast to work on a novel that certainly won't make me rich or famous. All I can say is that I get an enormous kick out of inventing a set of people who populate my head as if they were on TV. I can seem them in my "mind's eye". I grieve when they grieve and I laugh with them when they're happy.
Here are the links to my book>
USA
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00B1B7DVQ
UK
http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00B1B7DVQ
For other countries just go to your Amazon site and add /dp/ and the book number above or simply type in my name Peggie Biessmann or the title Spate of Violence.
You can read the first few chapters to see if you like it (I hope you will).
Here's the cover:
It was hard work but a lot of fun writing this novel. I must have revised it over a dozen times, tweaking a sentence here, adding a sentence there and deleting chunks of it which I thought didn't add to the story. The good thing about an e-book is that you don't have to make it a certain length. Nowadays a lot of publishers want what they call "blockbusters" - novels which are around 500 pages long. eSpate of Violence would be around 220 pages as a printed novel.
So now my baby is out there, taking its first tottering steps in the e-book world. I hope readers enjoy it because that is one of the reasons I wrote it. Writing what is in your heart is the only way to have fun. I can't otherwise explain why I sit down every morning after breakfast to work on a novel that certainly won't make me rich or famous. All I can say is that I get an enormous kick out of inventing a set of people who populate my head as if they were on TV. I can seem them in my "mind's eye". I grieve when they grieve and I laugh with them when they're happy.
Here are the links to my book>
USA
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00B1B7DVQ
UK
http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00B1B7DVQ
For other countries just go to your Amazon site and add /dp/ and the book number above or simply type in my name Peggie Biessmann or the title Spate of Violence.
You can read the first few chapters to see if you like it (I hope you will).
Here's the cover:
Sunday, 13 January 2013
Yes and No
I wonder why it is so hard for us to say "no" when we mean "no"? How many times have we really meant to refuse a request from an acquaintance only to meekly agree to something we didn't want to do? Sure I'll do the school run all this week! Sure I'll take little Billy all day tomorrow while you go shopping - he'll demolish everything in the house he can lay his hands on and I'll just about manage not to belt him one, but yes, of course, no problem. Sure I'll stay late and finish off the project, I'll just cancel that trip to the cinema I was looking forward to.
There is another side to this, though. We all know people who, with supreme self-confidence, say "no" to requests or suggestions. Our feelings are a little hurt by this, I think. Our enthusiastic : "Hey, I've just read this great novel, would you like a loan of it? - you'd love it" being met with a "no thanks, not my cup of tea" is a dampener. Or worse still our "I just bought these trousers, what do you think?" being met with an up-and-down look that says it all even if the lips are sealed. If it's a good friend, we'll most likely accept it. On the other hand, if it's an acquaintance we feel a bit dashed even if we know we should value that person's honesty (who wants honesty when you can have diplomacy?).
I've tried saying "no" without hurting anyone's feelings but have never really succeeded. Obviously there are times when I can't fulfill requests, which lets me off the diplomatic hook. And on occasion I have been driven by sheer desperation to say "no" but this always makes me feel uncomfortable. Trouble is, once you start saying "yes" to some people, they take it for granted and dream up more and more things for you to do for them. The other day, though, I came up with a winner. I was asked if I'd buy two unwanted tickets to the opera and my reply "actually I'd love to but I'm coming down with the vomiting 'flu" turned out to be the perfect answer. Illness as a way of escape? Perhaps. From now on I think I'll make use of Oscar Wilde's character in The Importance of Being Earnest when he says "I have invented an invaluable permanent invalid called Bunbury, in order that I may be able to go down into the country whenever I choose."
It's worth a try.
There is another side to this, though. We all know people who, with supreme self-confidence, say "no" to requests or suggestions. Our feelings are a little hurt by this, I think. Our enthusiastic : "Hey, I've just read this great novel, would you like a loan of it? - you'd love it" being met with a "no thanks, not my cup of tea" is a dampener. Or worse still our "I just bought these trousers, what do you think?" being met with an up-and-down look that says it all even if the lips are sealed. If it's a good friend, we'll most likely accept it. On the other hand, if it's an acquaintance we feel a bit dashed even if we know we should value that person's honesty (who wants honesty when you can have diplomacy?).
I've tried saying "no" without hurting anyone's feelings but have never really succeeded. Obviously there are times when I can't fulfill requests, which lets me off the diplomatic hook. And on occasion I have been driven by sheer desperation to say "no" but this always makes me feel uncomfortable. Trouble is, once you start saying "yes" to some people, they take it for granted and dream up more and more things for you to do for them. The other day, though, I came up with a winner. I was asked if I'd buy two unwanted tickets to the opera and my reply "actually I'd love to but I'm coming down with the vomiting 'flu" turned out to be the perfect answer. Illness as a way of escape? Perhaps. From now on I think I'll make use of Oscar Wilde's character in The Importance of Being Earnest when he says "I have invented an invaluable permanent invalid called Bunbury, in order that I may be able to go down into the country whenever I choose."
It's worth a try.
Sunday, 6 January 2013
The Ups and Downs of the Supermarket Aisles
I read recently - can't remember where - that while you are standing in line at the check-out, you can be judged by the items in your basket. Yikes! That's food for thought and sorry about the pun.
I learned recently that I'm a dood (don't own or drive), which means when I go shopping I buy in small walk-homeable lots. That means you are likely to find me standing in front of you with a carton of washing powder and a deodorant stick in my shopping basket or possibly a few kilos of potatoes and a packet of tissues with a magazine thrown in for good measure. Shop light, chase the special offers and carry home as little as possible is my mode de shopping vie.
But that is not what this lifestyle article meant. For example, if I remember correctly, a bunch of spring onions in your basket says "I'm going to make a complicated gourmet meal tonight", i.e. I am a hostess of elegant dinner parties. You are on the right side of the higher income bracket if you turn up at the check-out with San Pellegrino water instead of Tesco's brand - but of course you won't be shopping in Tesco's anyway, now will you? And apparently there are people who have all their shopping delivered either in M&S or Waitrose carrier bags regardless of where they bought it in order to impress the neighbours. Personally, if I have to go to that much trouble to keep up with the Joneses I'd be looking for a house swap.
I don't know why I found this all very fascinating except perhaps that I wondered who has the time and interest to inspect people's shopping baskets and then make decisions on their lifestyles based on what they are in the process of buying. What does it say about me if I buy just one bottle of cidre? Will other more sophisticated shoppers think a) I'm making an extraordinarily tasty stew and have invited some French people to dinner? or b) I can't afford more than one bottle of the stuff? or c) I'm a secret cider drinker? None of which assumptions would be correct. Come to that, what light does a tin of beans cast on my character and lifestyle? The bigger question is: do I care? And the answer is, no I do not care a scrap and I suspect that I belong to a vast number of shoppers who are far more interested in getting their stuff through the check-out and ultimately into the kitchen without sparing a glance or a thought for the bottles of San Pellegrino and spring onions in anyone else's basket. What a happy thought!
I learned recently that I'm a dood (don't own or drive), which means when I go shopping I buy in small walk-homeable lots. That means you are likely to find me standing in front of you with a carton of washing powder and a deodorant stick in my shopping basket or possibly a few kilos of potatoes and a packet of tissues with a magazine thrown in for good measure. Shop light, chase the special offers and carry home as little as possible is my mode de shopping vie.
But that is not what this lifestyle article meant. For example, if I remember correctly, a bunch of spring onions in your basket says "I'm going to make a complicated gourmet meal tonight", i.e. I am a hostess of elegant dinner parties. You are on the right side of the higher income bracket if you turn up at the check-out with San Pellegrino water instead of Tesco's brand - but of course you won't be shopping in Tesco's anyway, now will you? And apparently there are people who have all their shopping delivered either in M&S or Waitrose carrier bags regardless of where they bought it in order to impress the neighbours. Personally, if I have to go to that much trouble to keep up with the Joneses I'd be looking for a house swap.
I don't know why I found this all very fascinating except perhaps that I wondered who has the time and interest to inspect people's shopping baskets and then make decisions on their lifestyles based on what they are in the process of buying. What does it say about me if I buy just one bottle of cidre? Will other more sophisticated shoppers think a) I'm making an extraordinarily tasty stew and have invited some French people to dinner? or b) I can't afford more than one bottle of the stuff? or c) I'm a secret cider drinker? None of which assumptions would be correct. Come to that, what light does a tin of beans cast on my character and lifestyle? The bigger question is: do I care? And the answer is, no I do not care a scrap and I suspect that I belong to a vast number of shoppers who are far more interested in getting their stuff through the check-out and ultimately into the kitchen without sparing a glance or a thought for the bottles of San Pellegrino and spring onions in anyone else's basket. What a happy thought!
Sunday, 30 December 2012
Resolutions and Regrets
New Year's Eve - that day in all the year when we either start brooding over the past year or forming resolutions of doing better in the New Year. I must admit I'm sentimental. Saying goodbye to the old year is almost like saying goodbye to an old friend. I've felt comfortable writing 2012 and now I'll be struggling for the first few weeks at least to write 2013 instead.
My reminiscences on the dying year are speckled with "why did I's?" or "why didn't I's?" as in "why did I let myself be persuaded to buy that pair of shoes that I can hardly take two steps in without falling over?" and the annual lament "why didn't I give up eating chocolate like I intended?" All too late now and I don't think any new set of resolutions I might care to dream up would fare any better when I take them out and go through them at the end of 2013.
Why do we wait until the beginning of the New Year to make resolutions? It's the worst time of all for keeping them. If they are of a dietary nature they'll be broken by the time the wintry sun sets on the horizon. Not eat chocolate? Well, there's just that one box I got for Christmas and when that's finished of course I'll stop eating the stuff. We know where that will end. And the idea that I can become a stronger person well able to fend off persistent sales people in the shops? Gone with the first piece of chocolate. For if I don't have enough strength to resist a box of chocolates what chance to do I stand against a smart sales assistant with "winter bargains" beaming in her eye telling me the dress was just made for me? I'll be led to the cash desk with a stupid smile on my face, fancying I'm doing this because I decided to and not because I am like a piece of putty who can be persuaded to anything, especially when it is tagged "reduced price".
So if anyone asks what my New Year resolutions are for 2013, my answer is going to be that I have liberated myself. I'm going to eat chocolate, drink wine, buy stuff in the shops I don't really need. Wait a minute - isn't that a kind of New Year resolutions in itself? In which case I can be sure I'll keep it.
HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYBODY!
My reminiscences on the dying year are speckled with "why did I's?" or "why didn't I's?" as in "why did I let myself be persuaded to buy that pair of shoes that I can hardly take two steps in without falling over?" and the annual lament "why didn't I give up eating chocolate like I intended?" All too late now and I don't think any new set of resolutions I might care to dream up would fare any better when I take them out and go through them at the end of 2013.
Why do we wait until the beginning of the New Year to make resolutions? It's the worst time of all for keeping them. If they are of a dietary nature they'll be broken by the time the wintry sun sets on the horizon. Not eat chocolate? Well, there's just that one box I got for Christmas and when that's finished of course I'll stop eating the stuff. We know where that will end. And the idea that I can become a stronger person well able to fend off persistent sales people in the shops? Gone with the first piece of chocolate. For if I don't have enough strength to resist a box of chocolates what chance to do I stand against a smart sales assistant with "winter bargains" beaming in her eye telling me the dress was just made for me? I'll be led to the cash desk with a stupid smile on my face, fancying I'm doing this because I decided to and not because I am like a piece of putty who can be persuaded to anything, especially when it is tagged "reduced price".
So if anyone asks what my New Year resolutions are for 2013, my answer is going to be that I have liberated myself. I'm going to eat chocolate, drink wine, buy stuff in the shops I don't really need. Wait a minute - isn't that a kind of New Year resolutions in itself? In which case I can be sure I'll keep it.
HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYBODY!
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