Yes, it's my birthday today. Not being able to go out is a bit of a downer but then again with my tendency to set restaurants on fire it could be considered a good thing.
I'll tell you more later about what delights David has in store for me (I hope) but for now I just want to tell you about the best birthday present a girl could have!
The wonderful Debra has done a review of my podcast over on her blog and it's glowing. Don't be misled by the fact that she refers to Liz in her review. Some people know me as that. Like my cousin June, who is now Olive.
Anyway here is the link to Debra's blog.
It has taken me some time but it's here now! I know you've all been on tenterhooks since, um, last May but I've finally done it!
I've started podcasting!
My plan is to embed a player on this website. Let's see how that works, shall we?
In case you're curious it was really easy to create a podcast. The difficult bit was getting it listed on the iTunes directory. To be honest, it's still not listed but it is being reviewed. they have to make sure it is up to standard and not breaking any of their rules.
I am going to try and embed the player without asking for help from David ...
Postscript
I did it!
Forgive me! I suddenly realised I'd left you hanging in mid-air, desperate to know what my other brilliant idea was. Well, it's this; I'm going to make a podcast!
(Does one 'make' a podcast? Whatever one does I'm going to be doing it.)
I know you're thinking, 'What on earth can Alison be planning to podcast about?' Then again perhaps you're like me and not entirely sure what a podcast is. That should read 'like I was': I know all about them now.
They're like a radio show but different. I won't go into technicalities here - I don't want to bore you and anyway I've forgotten a lot of what I found out - so let me just explain what my podcast is going to involve.
As I mentioned in a previous post I am currently writing a sequel to my best-selling memoir, This Time Next Year. In order to prepare the ground, so to speak, and to start building a potential customer base, I am going to serialise This Time Next Year and podcast it.
Do you like the way I talk about 'building a potential customer base'? Can you tell I'm trying to learn about marketing and promotion? I'm supposed to be building my online presence but I'm not being awfully successful at that. Trouble is I keep getting distracted.
But to get back to my podcast. I think I will break it down into fifteen minute episodes and broadcast them once a week, maybe?
The recording itself seems simple enough. I just have to borrow Adam's microphone and read. Broadcasting is said to be simple. But then most things on the internet are said to be simple yet I struggle with them. Maybe I should wait until Adam is home from uni so he can help me.
In the meantime I can start breaking my diary down into episodes.
I am an intelligent woman. How hard can this be?
P.S. In case anyone should accuse me of false pretences the definition of best-selling is subjective. What counts as best-selling to me may not be what counts as best-selling in a more traditional view.
It occurred to me when I was in the shower this morning. I leapt out and bumped into David on the landing.
'I've had a marvellous idea!' I said.
He has an unfortunate tendency to groan when I say things like that but this time he just grunted and hurried on down the stairs. I followed him.
'Don't you want to know what it is?' I asked as he opened the front door. 'What are you doing? Are you leaving me?'
'I wouldn't,' said the postman, looking me up and down and grinning as he handed a parcel to David.
'Oh. Um, thank you.'
It was quite a compliment actually considering I was dripping wet, in a skimpy towel, and rather fetching flowery shower cap. Come to think of it it was probably the skimpiness of said towel rather than my innate gorgeousness that did it.
How many towels can children use at any one time? Have they not heard of leaving towels to dry in between use? And why do they use my best towels? Not to mention global warming and the environment crisis.
David had closed the door, and taken his parcel into the kitchen while I pondered these things. I shook myself and followed myself.
'Why did you let me do that?'
'Do what?' he asked.
'Expose myself to the postman.'
'Oh that,' he said as if it were an everyday occurrence. 'I assumed you'd heard the knock on the door. Do you want coffee?' He glanced at me. 'Or do you want to get dressed first?'
I stomped back up the stairs. He can wait to hear about my brilliant idea if that's his attitude.
Many many apologies for the huge gap in writing this blog only because I keep a proper diary as well - although Chloe says a blog is a proper diary - it means I'd be spending most of my time writing and I still have to work, yes, even though ... oh wait, let's stop and start again.
Deep breath, Aliss. There, that's better. I have some exciting news!
I've decided to publish the next volume of my diary! As a book I mean. Like This Time Next Year. How exciting is that?
Bev nearly wet herself when I told her. (A problem we all have these days truth be told.) And good old Dad said, 'I'm delighted, Alison. I can't wait to find out what happens to me next.'
Mum gave him a strange look and then said, 'You shouldn't encourage her, Bill. You know I couldn't look Monica from the golf club in the eye after the last one.'
Dad and I exchanged looks. I could tell we were both thinking the same thing i.e. with her nose stuck up in the air it was almost impossible to look Monica in the eye at any time. But we kept quiet.
David thinks it's a wonderful idea. His exact words were: oh good, it'll keep you out of trouble for a bit. When he saw my face he quickly changed it to, 'I mean it'll keep you busy though, won't it?'
'Yes,' I agreed. 'But I can't let my fans down.'
'Your fans?'
'All the people who've asked me, nay, begged me, to write more.'
'Oh,' David said, 'I didn't realise, I'm sorry.'
I hoped he'd leave it at that but he had to go on. 'Exactly how many?'
I shrugged. 'Oh you know, lots.'
'More than one hundred?'
'Now you're just being silly,' I said.
'Well, how many is it then?' he persisted.
'At least ... three. If you include Dad and Bev.'
David tried very hard to keep a straight face as he pulled me towards him and hugged me. 'You can't let them down then.'
'No, quite, and I've a story to tell. Not just our love story but the universal story of ageing women and the difficulties they encounter as they weave their way through the modern world.'
'Have you been in the Self Help section in the library again?'
'No, it was something I heard someone on Woman's Hour say.'
We both laughed and then I said, 'But seriously, you're okay with me doing this?'
'Of course. I want to know where our story goes too.'
And that dear reader is what you will find out. Eventually. This is very early notice of publication as I haven't actually written the book yet. My diaries will take quite a bit of editing. But I'll try to keep you up-dated here.
So laters, folks. As the young people say these days.
Mum phoned me at 11 this morning. She said, 'Wonderful news, Alison! The vicar has agreed to marry you.'
'That's kind of him, Mum, but I don't think we've met and anyway, I'm an engaged woman.'
Mum sighed deeply. 'I've told you before, Alison, about being facetious. It's not becoming. You know quite well what I mean.'
'Yes, Mum, I'm sorry,' I smiled into the phone. Not even my mother could upset me today. 'But we haven't discu...'
Before I could finish my mother interrupted, 'He doesn't really approve of marrying divorcees but I explained that it wasn't entirely your fault and he said that, as I was such a faithful member of the Ladies' Guild, he was sure he could make an exception.'
'First of all, Mother, it wasn't my fault at all that Brian left me for a bimbo,' I could hear my mother sniff on the other end of the phone, 'and, secondly, as I was trying to say before you interrupted me, David and I haven't discussed what sort of wedding we want yet.'
'What do you mean what sort of wedding? You're not going to go all hippy on us, are you? Your father's too old to go off to some beach at sunset. And the mosquitoes always bite him.'
'No, but it'll probably be a quiet affair in a registry office with just close family and friends.'
'You're not pregnant, are you?'
'I'm fifty-five, Mother!'
'Well, these days they can do anything with a test tube and a turkey baster. So I'll tell the vicar you'll pop in to see him, shall I?'
I will not let her upset me! Instead I'll show you my ring!
David found it in an antique shop. He said he saw it and instantly thought of me! How romantic is that! It's a purple sapphire between two little diamonds. So dainty and elegant! Why it reminded David of me I can't imagine.
Well, dear readers, I have some exciting news!
Oh dear, first I suppose I should apologise for the huge time lapse since my last post but life has been most awfully busy. So, anyway, yesterday was my 55th birthday and, guess what? David asked me to marry him!
He'd taken me to La Brasseria for my birthday meal: it's become a sort of tradition to go there and, apart from last year, when I tripped and bumped into a waiter who then poured the contents of a bottle of red wine over customer, it's been uneventful. Until last night.
We'd had our main courses and I was just wondering whether I should have ordered panna cotta like the woman at the next table instead of the tiramisu when David reached across the table and took my hand. It startled me making me knock over my glass of wine but it was white so didn't show much. Unlike David's red wine that spilled when I bumped the table as I tried to catch my falling glass.
David burst out laughing. He shoo-ed away the waiter who'd appeared with a cloth to mop up the mess. 'It's okay, just leave it.'
'Oh dear,' I said. 'I thought I'd broken the jinx on this place.'
David shook his head. He was still laughing. 'What am I going to do with you, Aliss?'
I bit my lip. 'I don't know.'
He shook his head again. 'I think there's only one thing I can do.' He reached into his inside jacket pocket and brought out a small box. Opening it he said, 'Alison, will you do me the great honour of marrying me?'
'Oh lumme!'
'Is that a yes?'
'Oh, yes, yes, yes, a million times yes!' I stood up and leaned across the candle-lit table to kiss him. Our lips had barely met when I was soaked to the skin as a jug of water was thrown over me.
'Whaaattt?!!!'
'Sorry, madam,' said the waiter as he mopped me with his already wine-stained cloth. 'You were on fire!'
'Oh dear,' I sat down again amidst the ruins of our table. 'Are you sure you want to marry me?'
David took my hand again. 'I'm absolutely positive. Anyway you're not safe out on your own. I'll be doing community care a favour.'
It was late when we finally got home so I waited until this morning to phone everyone to tell them the good news. I began with Chloe.
'Hello darling, Mum here.'
'Urgh, what time is it?'
'About, oh, half past seven.'
'Oh Mum! I've only just got to sleep. You know I've been on night shifts.'
'I'm sorry, darling, but I do have some exciting news.'
'What? Has David finally proposed?'
'Oh. Yes.'
'Great, Mum,' she yawned loudly. 'I'll call you back later, okay.'
'Er, yes, darling. Love you.'
'Love you too. Bye.'
Thought she might have been a little bit more excited. But she's never been good in the mornings. With that in mind I decided not to phone Adam until later. After all he's still student, albeit a post-graduate one. So I moved onto Mum. Unlike my children she would be up early.
'Morning, Mum,' I said cheerfully.
'Good heavens, is that you, Alison?'
'I would think so unless you've suddenly discovered a long-lost daughter?'
'Don't be facetious, Alison. It's not becoming.'
I bit my tongue and tried again. 'I'm calling early because I have some news.'
'Oh no! What's happened? Is it Chloe? Has she been attacked by one of those wife beaters?'
'No, Mum, it's not Chloe.'
'Adam then? He's been arrested hasn't he?'
'Why would he be arrested, Mum?'
'Well, I don't know, drugs, dogging.'
I spluttered into the phone. 'Dogging?'
'Isn't that what they call it when you're caught smoking mariejuanna?'
'No, Mum. And, anyway, Adam doesn't use drugs. And why do you assume it's bad news?'
'Why else would you be calling this time in the morning?'
'I'm calling to tell you that David and I are getting married.'
'Oh. Wouldn't have thought you'd bother at your age. Seems a bit of a fuss for nothing.'
'Mother, when David first began spending the night here you were apoplectic in case the ladies at the golf club found out. I thought you'd be pleased we were making it legal.'
'Yes, well, times change. One has to keep up with the times.'
I shook my head. 'Is Dad there? I'd like to tell him myself.'
'No, he's popped out to the newsagent.'
'At half past seven in the morning.'
'Well, if he doesn't get there early they sell out of the Telegraph. I'll tell him to phone you when he gets back.'
'Okay, and you won't tell him first?'
'No, no, you can do that.'
Half an hour later Dad phoned. 'Wonderful news, sweetheart! I'm so pleased for you.'
'Mum told you then?'
'Yes, soon as I walked through the door. We're both delighted for you and David.'
'Thanks, Dad.'
'Hang on, your mother's saying something ... yes, yes, she says we must all go out for a meal to celebrate. She'll phone you later to arrange it.'
Couldn't wait any longer to phone Adam so called and let it ring until he finally picked up.
'Urgh?'
Hello, darling, it's Mum.'
'Urggh.'
Adam, I'm phoning because I have some news for you.' I waited for a response. When none came I carried on. 'Last night David asked me to marry him!'
'Urgh.'
'Did you hear what I said, Adam? David asked me to marry him!'
'Yeargh, what did you say?'
'I said yes of course!'
'Cool. Bye, Mum.'
Bev was next to know. 'Yay! And I'm just the woman to organise the Hen party!'
And Pippa was genuinely delighted. 'I am so pleased for you, Alison. You deserve this. Love you loads.'
Do I deserve it? Don't think I'll think too much about that. Might come to the wrong answer. Instead I'll just allow myself to wallow in being a newly engaged woman.
