Fame at last! (not really)

3 Apr

On Monday (4th April) the new edition of People’s Friend will hit the shops.  Well, being the kind of magazine it is it won’t so much hit them as pat them gently, but the point is that my story, “Turning the Corner”, will be in it!  Hooray!  They bought it ages ago and I’ve been wondering when it would actually appear.  This is the highest circulation magazine that I’ve had anything published in, and it gives me a nice buzz.

This year has been a bit light on acceptances so far – just one!  That was from Flash (University of Chester) for a piece of flash fiction, unsurprisingly.  It’s a bit of an odd piece, and not one that I thought would be easily accepted, but it was taken by the first publication I sent it to.

It’s funny how that happens – the ones you think will do well get rejection after rejection, and the awkward wee pieces surprise you by being accepted.  I have a few of what I consider my most saleable (and best) stories still looking for a home.  Oh well, I’ll keep trying and probably keep being surprised.

Rules to Live By

20 Mar

Some given to me as advice, some learnt from experience, but all useful when applied with common sense.

  • Smile and nod.
  • It will all seem better in the morning.
  • Ignore it and it will go away.
  • Never go to the toilet straight before going to the doctor.
  • Be honest.
  • Don’t drink wine when you’re thirsty.
  • Don’t buy an espresso from a place that can’t spell it.
  • There is no such thing as “the real world”.
  • There’s nothing wrong with being different.
  • There are better things to be than pretty.
  • There are better things to be than clever.
  • Generally speaking, beware of men with beards.
  • It is never necessary to sin in order to do good.
  • Nobody can dance.
  • You can’t dance in slippers.
  • Cultivate friendship.
  • Fresh air and sunshine are good for you.
  • In almost all cases, whisky named after a place = good, whisky named after a person = bad.

Disabled Toilets

1 Mar

Disabled people don’t wear coats or carry bags. They also don’t use make up or care about the appearance of their hair. How do I know this? Because disabled toilets never have coathooks or a mirror. In fact, in a disabled toilet you’re lucky if you even get anything to dry your hands on. (A dryer that wheezes on your hands like an asthmatic gerbil does not count.)

This is annoying enough if you’re using the accessible toilet for the sake of convenience and could just go along to the ladies’, but it must be infuriating if you don’t have a choice about it. I think someone should organise a secret national event when we all go into disabled loos armed with stick-on hooks and mirrors. It would make life slightly less annoying for a lot of people.

Left-Handed Day

8 Feb

Last week I decided to have a left-handed day, although I am actually right handed.  There was a reason.  My “ambidextrous” sister and “right handed” me had been having a conversation about it, and we couldn’t find many things that she could actually do significantly better with her left hand than I could.

So I thought I would swap hands for a day and see if I’m more amidextrous than I thought.  The simple answer is, yes, I can do a lot more with my left hand than I would have assumed.  That still leaves the question, though, of whether my sister and I are both ambidextrous or whether all right-handed people are actually not too bad with their left hands but just never try.  Give it a go and let me know.

Here are the highlights of my leftie day:

Hardest thing (apart from remembering to use my left hand): Spreading butter on toast, followed closely by double-clicking a mouse.

Easiest thing: Using straighteners.  I had never realised but I always hold them in my left hand, using the right to hold the hair.  Swapping over was no trouble at all.

Bravest thing: Cutting my fringe.  It turned out better than usual!

Weirdest thing: I found it much harder to type, even though I always type with two hands, and it was even harder to read.  That sounds as if it doesn’t make any sense at all but handedness is closely linked to language ability (to do with hemispheres of the brain) so I was probably just confusing my poor brain with the swap.

Things I chickened out of: Making a Valentines card for my husband (it’s hard!) and writing the address on envelopes.  Well, I did want them to get there!

Christmas Top 5

24 Dec

Mary and Jesus (Raphael's Madonna dell Granduca)My personal selection of the best bits of Christmas.  A couple of deliberate omissions: the incarnation of Jesus, but that is Christmas, rather than being a good thing about Christmas.  And snow, because while snow is great it more often than not comes separately from Christmas.

So, here we go, in no special order:

1) Tinsel  I love the sparkliness of tinsel, especially in low light, the softness of it when you run it through your fingers, and the smell when you take it out of the box from last year.  Nothing else smells like tinsel, and tinsel smells of Christmas!

2) Christmas Food – and far too much of it, usually, but it’s great to have an excuse to eat lovely scrummy fattening food like chocolate logs and roast potatoes.  And sherry is a funny one.  I would never drink it at any other time of year, but somehow at Christmas it’s just right.

3) Carols I wait every year for the carols to start!  I love singing them in parts or hearing them sung in parts, I love caroling out in the cold and warm, crowded, candlelit carol services.  I love the words and even the silly bits you know aren’t accurate, like the fact that “snow had fallen, snow on snow”.  Poetic licence is just fine at Christmas.

4) Presents Not just receiving (although that’s good) but giving them too.  When you’ve paid attention and you get it right, the look on people’s faces is brilliant.  And wrapping presents is fun, and so is tearing off the wrapping.  And then using all your new things as soon as possible.  Generally good in every way.

5) Christmas Spirit – by which I mean people being nice to each other.  It’s not just a myth, people really are kinder at Christmas (although it tends to be towards strangers rather than family!).  Strangers smile at each other, wish each other well and help each other out when they are in need, and there is generally a good deal more peace on earth and goodwill towards men.

None of your bah humbug here!

Shoe Envy

2 Dec

I have said before that I don’t understand most women’s fascination with handbags.  Shoes, however, are a different matter.  I can be quite illogical about shoes.  Yes, I don’t understand the appeal of Jimmy Choos and Manolo Blahnicks (nasty clunky looking things) and yes, I have my sensible pairs of Clarks (they don’t leak), but I also have ridiculous strappy, high heeled confections of joy not because they are comfortable (some of them I can barely walk in) or waterproof (far from it) but because they are beautiful.

When I was at Uni I had a pair of black high-heeled sandals (as they are called, although they’ll never see a beach) which had a network of narrow, overlapping black straps, a four inch heel and not much else.  I called them my suicide shoes.  I wore them to the hall ball one night – six hours in those shoes and I couldn’t feel my feet for two days afterwards.  But it was worth it because they were so beautiful.  And not just the shoes themselves, but in really lovely shoes your feet are transformed into things of beauty too.

The latest episode of my relationship with shoes has been my search for the perfect pair of high heeled long boots.  They are in fashion at the moment, but in some ways that doesn’t help because a) there’s too much choice, too many places to look and b) the ones that are in fashion are generally either slouch style and too short, or over the knee (yikes!) or have so many buckles you’ll probably fasten your legs together as you walk.

I finally found a pair after much searching – heel not too high, not too flat, colour right (has to be black), only a small, unthreatening amount of buckles, and, for a miracle, the right length on the leg, too.  Then, the day after I found them, I suffered an unexpected attack of shoe envy when the boss at work walked in with a better pair!  Horror!  Of course, her budget is less limited than mine, but it leached all the joy out of my acquisition.  At least until I saw them the next day from another angle and they made her look like Rudolph Hess.  Phew!  My boots are perfect again.

One thing that is annoying about shoes, though, is that you have to put up with whatever height of heel the manufacturer sees fit to give you.  If you love the shoes and they have four inch heels, tough – you will have to get used to pain.  If you love them and the heel isn’t long enough to keep your trousers off the floor, again, tough – you’ll have to learn to sew hems.  Surely there is a market for shoes, not just in different sizes, but also different heel heights?  An idea for any entrepreneur ready to brave the (never-ending?) credit crunch.

 

Liked this? Try ‘We Don’t Do Half Sizes‘ and Office Life (and Death)

Marius and Sulla – Tyrants of Rome

23 Nov

Marius and Sulla are not well known names now, but they were giants of the early first century BC. Ruthless, violent, single minded, they both had their sights set on ultimate power in Rome. Marius made his play first while Sulla was away, then Sulla came back to town and showed him how it should be done.

Born in 157BC, Marius was almost twenty years older than Sulla. He was from the equestrian class – well off, but not as rich as people from the senatorial class, like Sulla. He managed to rise to high political and military positions with help from aristocratic backers and by proving his own merits.

Marius was the kind of man you wanted to have on your side in a war. He was a ruthless commander who impressed ordinary soldiers with his willingness to suffer the same conditions as them, and impressed voters with his ability to get the job done in Rome’s wars. (He impressed them so much that he had been consul six times by the time of his final run-in with Sulla, and there was a prophecy, which may have been made up by Marius, that he would go on to have seventh consulship.)

When there wasn’t a war on, however, Marius was a bit of a spare part and ended up getting involved in fairly dirty politics. Fortunately for Marius, there were plenty of wars during his lifetime. Apart from his military victories and record number of consulships, Marius has two other claims to fame. Apparently, he was the man who first came up with the idea of making Roman javelin heads weak on one side. This meant that while they could still stick your enemy, once they had landed the neck would be bent and the enemy wouldn’t be able to throw them back at you. Clever.

The other, more significant thing, is that he was the first to recruit soldiers who didn’t meet the property qualification. This was from necessity, not planning, but it meant that these new rectruits didn’t have a farm to go back to when the war ended and had to rely on their general to be successful and be able to provide them with land he had captured. It was the beginning of a professional army, but it was also the beginning of armies that were loyal to their commanders, not to Rome, and that opened the door to the civil wars that racked Rome in the first century BC, and terminated with Augustus becoming Emperor.

Lucius Cornelius Sulla was from the senatorial class, a noble, but not very well off at the start of his life. A couple of legacies from women who were fond of him put that right, and he got his first break in the political arena under Marius. Sulla was chosen to serve under Marius as a quaestor (a junior politician) and in 107BC Marius took Sulla with him to Africa, which had been appointed as his field of command. The African king Jugurtha was defying Rome and Marius made a lot of progress in the war against him. It was Sulla, however, who captured Jugurtha alive by the risky strategy of trusting Jugurtha’s uncle, Bocchus, to betray his nephew to Sulla rather than the other way around. This was infuriating for Marius and from that moment on there was ill-feeling between Marius and Sulla. It didn’t help that Sulla had his signet ring inscribed with a picture of Jugurtha being handed over to him, or that Bocchus donated to Rome the same image hammered into a gold frieze.

Marius and Sulla’s animosity towards each other didn’t come to anything until the end of the Social War (91 – 89BC), a particularly nasty war since the Romans were fighting mainly against former allies. It had grown out of decades of political strife and violence over the question of land and citizenship for non-Roman Italians.

At the tail end of the Social War Marius started to take action against Sulla. He enlisted the help of a rabble-rousing tribune (a powerful politician outside the senate) called Sulpicius who had a group of six hundred supporters he called “the anti-senate”. Through sly dealing and plenty of violence they managed to get the real senate to withdraw the allocation of a command in Asia to Sulla, and give it to Marius instead, even though by this time Marius was getting rather old to be leading big campaigns. Marius was never satisfied with what he had, and the prospect of winning huge riches by defeating King Mithridates was too tempting to pass up.

When Sulla heard about this he took the army he had, which was all ready to go to Asia and fight Mithridates, and turned it towards Rome instead. This was the first time a Roman army had marched against the city of Rome, but it wouldn’t be the last. Sulla took control of the city, reversed all of the laws passed by Sulpicius, and had Sulpicius and Marius declared public enemies, so that they had to escape Rome or die. Sulpicius died, but Marius, after lots of adventures, made it to Africa where there were ex-soldiers who were loyal to him.

After sorting out the situation in Rome, Sulla acted as if life were going on as normal. He sent his army out of the city and performed his normal duties as consul (similar to a prime minister) until the end of the year. Then he went off to fight Mithridates as he had intended to do to start with. Sulla, who gave himself the nickname “lucky”, had a series of wonderful victories in western Asia and the Balkans, but while he was out of the picture Marius’ friends were active. With their help, Marius was soon back. He besieged Rome into submission, and then set about wreaking his bloody revenge on anyone who had ever opposed him, failed to help him, or even annoyed him. It got so bad that the gang of violent slaves who formed Marius’ huge bodyguard took it as a signal to kill people if they said hello to Marius and he didn’t say anything in reply. With Rome under his bloody thumb, Marius was elected consul a seventh time, as the prophecy had said. Much good it did him – he died of pleurisy just a couple of weeks later.

Sulla’s wife, Metella, managed to escape to him in Greece with their children, but most of his other friends and family had been killed. Furious, Sulla turned towards Rome. It wasn’t as simple as walking into Rome because Marius’ supporters, including his son, put up a fierce fight. Sulla had a well-trained army, though, and the support of a lot of the senate, who had been terrified by Marius’ random violence. They were prepared to welcome Sulla with open arms when he won.

He wasn’t quite the saviour they were looking for. Instead of restoring the state to its usual condition, Sulla declared himself dictator – sole ruler indefinitely, with the right to make up laws. Where Marius had been random and unpredictable in his violence, Sulla was much more organised. He made lists. Everyone on the lists, which were published, was declared an enemy of Rome. It was illegal to shelter them and there was a reward for anyone who kiled them. What was more, all their property was forfeit to the state, meaning that plenty of people ended up on the lists who had done nothing wrong except own a nice seaside villa or vineyard. This was called proscription, and it was one of the most sinister periods of Roman history.

Sulla was a man of contradictions, and while he was making the streets of Rome run with (largely innocent) blood, he was also using his power as dictator to bring in perfectly sensible laws about the regulations for holding political office, and he added new people to the senate to bring it back to full strength after all the murders. Then, after he had done all of this, he voluntarily retired from the position of dictator, remarried (Metella having died) and lived a quiet life until he died after a short illness a few years later, at the age of sixty. So both Marius and Sulla, who lived by violence, didn’t die by it. The legacy they left was more in keeping with their violent lives, though: Catiline, who failed in his armed struggle to become ruler of Rome in 63BC, and Pompey, who fought Julius Caesar for control of the Empire, got their training in civil bloodshed as Sulla’s supporters. Marius and Sulla’s civil war with each other set the stage for the more famous civil wars which were to follow.

If you want to read more:

Plutarch Life of Marius, Life of Sulla (easy, fun)

Appian The Civil Wars (a bit heavy, lots of detail)

Sallust The Jugurthine War, The Conspiracy of Catiline (pretty easy, exciting, reads like a novel)

Ancient History – Just the Best Bits

12 Nov

I am seriously thinking about trying to write something (“book” might be a bit ambitious at this stage) about the interesting bits of Ancient History.  It will be less an academic work and more an outpouring of idiosyncratic opinion.  I’ve already got a few suggestions from people: gladiators, Pompeii erruption, Christians and lions, Roman aristocracy, Salamis, and the Trojan horse.  And obviously, me being me, Alexander is going to feature A LOT.  However, I am still looking for more suggestions, which will be taken into consideration (no promises!).

This post is where I would like to collect them, because the ones I have at the moment are on a post-it note and are likely to get lost.  Please use the comment facility below.  Ta!

Mutual Grooming

3 Nov

After taking my black coat off today at work, I noticed that it had lots of blonde hairs clinging to the back of it.  It’s unavoidable because we all moult all the time, and if you’ve got long hair it’s especially noticeable.  The trouble is it makes you look scruffy and you never find out till afterwards.

Many times I have sat behind someone at church or on a bus, itching to remove the hairs that are making them look messy but not sure whether it’s rude, or if they’ll wonder what I’m doing.  But I would be grateful if someone did it for me!

So I think there should be an opt-out system.  Some sort of surreptitious little sign, probably only for women, to indicate that you don’t want to have your stray hairs removed.  Then the rest of us can tidy the hairs off each other without worrying about being though weird.  Who’s in favour?

The Telegraph and Me

31 Oct

I had the unfortunate experience of agreeing with two opinion pieces in the Telegraph.  It made me worry that comfortable middle-aged fascism is coming on early.  The one I most nodded along to was about Scottish hallowe’en versus American.  When I were a lass (she droned) we went guising, which is sort of like busking – songs, jokes, nice costumes.  Now even in Scotland some kids go trick or treating which is a bit like demanding money with menaces.  No, it’s exactly like demanding money with menaces.

However I was reassured when I found myself spluttering in outrage at something else the Telegraph said later.  They blamed middle class, non-racist liberals (that’s me, I take it) for the rise of the BNP.  Now, I understand the argument that if people, and especially political parties, pretend that there is no need for any immigration policy and to suggest otherwise is racism, you drive people who do have concerns about immigration into the arms of extremists.  But what they seemed to be suggesting was that actually not being racist was the problem, and if people couldn’t get their healthy bit of racism in the mainstream they would vote for the BNP.  Argh!  I don’t think I’ll be switching to the Telegraph just yet.