Soap for Jesus

When people ask me what I am, among the first words I use to describe myself is "author" or "writer". "Oooh! What do you write?" "Well, historical fiction mostly, started a bit of fantasy and my own autobiography." (That last usually gets a lot of laughter!) "Are you published?" "Well, sort of, yes." "Are you going to write a book about BMG? (My workplace)" I have to laugh at that one. "Maybe," because all experiences can be used. Then they go off into detailed descriptions of how I could use certain people and feature them and hide names, etc. So why am I writing this? Because I was thinking about it the other day. As life has gone on, and my friends and I have grown up, I am technically no longer recognised as an author in writing circles. I have little time in the current scheme of live to do more than scribble a few lines here and there, a few story ideas to be worked on when I hit that wond...

But as I post that and mean it from the bottom of my heart, that one can never have too many true friends, and one can never have too many messages from them, sometimes physical limitations get in the way. :P I have posted this on my G+ Wall and my blog, and am emailing it out to all my contacts as well. I've just taken on a secretary to deal with my rather large amount of messages/chat notifs/emails. I'd like to introduce you to my dear friend and adoptive sister Emma Alabaster, who will be answering some of the messages that come in to me. I will still be attempting to respond personally as much as possible, but sometimes I can't complete it on the weekend before the working week begins, and if this lapses too long, well. Some of you are waiting for a response after 2 years. Em will be operating on my FB and Gmail (and occasionally to perhaps answer blog comments) ONLY WHEN I HAVE SENT HER a private message stating that I need her to clear something for me. THIS...

I woke up this morning not feeling very good. Well, I usually feel physically great after a lie in, but not mentally, especially when waking at 1pm. About half an hour later, Mom was just about to go out. "Sian! There's a parcel down here for you." I let out a shriek and bolted downstairs, as I was expecting one...although I had no idea what was in it. (I love surprise parcels, sometimes. :D) "It can't be the one you think it is...it's from Preston!" Mom said. I blinked, knowing the Hodgson girls hadn't sent me anything! Surprised, I tried to detangle the brown tape from the parcel, but it clung tightly to the lighter brown paper. The parcel was long, brown and slender - not like I was expecting. Though I didn't know WHAT I was expecting. :D Finally ripping the tape off, I managed to start unrolling it, and eventually reached the bubble wrapping. Now, if you're anything like me, bubble wrapping is half of the present. ;) I s...