Goodbye, Harvey

Harvey & his teddy
Harvey & his teddy

Harvey. Harvles. Stinky old fish.

I recently lost my dog. He was a Labrador, 13 years old. He came to us when we needed him most and immediately became my best friend. He had lymphoma. I don’t want him to be gone.

Pooch. Mushroom bum. Waggles.

Words fail me. As a writer, this is rare, but there is nothing I can say to make you understand what this dog meant to me. He was beautiful, gentle, quirky. He was clever, stupid and manic. He was Harvey.

Wiggy dog. Wiggles. Stoopid poopid.

He used to get me out of bed in the mornings. First, he would shake his head. Then he would poke his nose under the covers to dig me out. Failing that, he would bury his head under my pillow and lick my face. One time, he climbed up and stood on me. The whole time, his tail would be thumping against the wall like a war drum. All because it was time for a little walk.

Slow coach. Pumpkin. Babyboy.

He only ever wanted to play with other dogs when they weren’t very friendly. Or if they weren’t allowed off the lead. But the people… Well, he’d be friends with anyone for a gravy bone!

Harbar. Doggy. Hound.

But now… Now there will be no more cuddles on the sofa. No more belly rubs. No more piggy time. He’ll never lead me around the house for no discernable reason or take me on one of his missions around the estate. No one will wag at me when I come into the house. No one will sleep on the bed when I’m not looking.

H. Harvs. Harvey.

He shouldn’t be gone. He shouldn’t have gone that way. He was the kindest, specialest doggy in the whole wide world. I never met a single person who didn’t like him. Even people who hate dogs liked him. And they may be other dogs in the future, but there will never be another like Harvey.

Goodbye, friend.
01/05/2016

I’ve Been Quiet…

I realise I’ve been quiet for a while. Thing is, I’m hard at work on this book I’ve been writing for ages and I just want it to be complete now. I’m nearly there. I just have a couple of thousand words left to round everything up and that’ll be good to go… into a desk drawer… to await feedback and editing. So only halfway done really. But there will at least be a story and that makes me happy.

There are so many things I need to do when this beast is off my lap.

I’ve not done any new worksheets for a while, but I’ve got a tip sheet in the works and I’m hoping to come up with a feedback sheet that could be useful when you’re giving feedback to other writers, or for readers to give feedback to you. It might not be this week, but hopefully, those will be done by May. End of May at the latest. Before summer. Soon.

Bye Smartphone

I’m going to give up my smartphone.
I hate the bloody thing.
Absolutely loathe it.

It’s broken, see. Of course it can tweet and Facebook and browse the internet, look up articles on Wikipedia and give me instant access to every cute puppy video on YouTube (not to mention a million blurry selfies and all the dinners ever made). But the one thing it cannot do is make phone calls.

Smart? Maybe. Phone? Not so much.

I want to go back to my Sony Ericsson C510, but this SIM card will no longer fit. The Sony Ericsson was lovely. It made phone calls – received them too – and text messages… Oh boy, could I send text messages. Honestly, the text messages were one of the main draws. The smartphone can’t do that either.

I do know one fix for the issue with my smartphone. It’s the tech helpline favourite: turn it off and on again.

Only the smartphone can’t manage that. Not unless it’s plugged in. Even with a full battery.

I was using it to Google a solution. I looked for twenty minutes before I got a stress headache and stopped. That’s when I realised… I don’t need this shit.

I don’t want updates every two weeks.
I don’t want six thousand notifications for all the apps I ever used.
I don’t want “smart”.

I just want a phone.

And so I’m getting a new SIM card and giving up the smartphone. It’s going to begin a new career as a torch. Or a paperweight.

Time will tell.