Should Men Do Housework?

It's been a question I've asked for quite some time now, probably ever since the Farmer and I got together. You see my husband is pretty useless in the house. He doesn't seem to understand that fairies don't really exist (sorry to disappoint you) and that washing, cleaning, cooking, you know, all those chores that need to be done regularly, are actually done by a person. In this house, it's me. I didn't get to know his mum because she passed away a few years before I moved in here, though I suspect there wasn't much she didn't do inside. In my husband's mind, it's a woman's job to look after the house, see to the kids and hold the titles of housewife, carer, housekeeper, maid, cook, skivvy and general dog's body. He does the grafting, I do the things women do. Don't hate him though, he's quite nice when you get to know him.

I don't blame him for this old-fashioned attitude towards gender roles. I actually blame his mum. From picking up his dirty washing off the floor, to staying up till gone midnight during the harvest in order to make him a freshly cooked meal, she was there for him (and his dad) twenty-four hours a day, literally. She ran after the "menfolk" in her life like her life depended on it. I guess it was the way she was brought up though I also imagine my late father-in-law had a lot to do with her being the way she was. But my complaint is, she didn't do the Farmer any favours. He's sixty-one now and completely bone idle inside the house. He doesn't even know the washing machine from the tumble dryer, can't work the oven, struggles with the microwave and wouldn't know how to lift the lid on the linen basket if a fairy flew through the window and slapped him in the face with a note saying, "Do it like this." He's a busy man, granted, but I seem to have taken over the role of his mother which is actually starting to grind me down. He'd do anything for me and I'd do anything for him, but it does get a little monotonous when I am continuously asking him to put his skiddy undies and cardboard socks in the linen basket to save me having to do it, not to mention reach for the toilet brush when he's pebble dashed the pan. I'm his wife, not his maid. And I'm certainly not his mother. I ask you, is your husband the same or have you got a system that works for you?

This post was inspired by the lovely Mum to Baby Insominiac, who wrote a fabulous post called Who's Job Is It Anyway?

Justice in the Blogging World

I have been completely blown away these last two days, by the support and loyalty shown towards me by people who have read my blog, interacted with me on Twitter and Facebook, and who have offered me their assistance via email. The fiasco with copyright issues has brought people together, raised awareness and shown me a very positive side to blogging. After contemplating a blog break, I have realised that I would only be doing this because of my trust in the blogging world having been broken. But after this outstanding show of loyalty, I am honoured to say that the trust is still there, albeit in a vigilant way. You have all shown me that our blogging community and the online community as a whole, is a wonderfully supportive place to be and I for one am grateful to be a part of it. On Saturday evening, I went to bed and hardly slept. I told myself during the night that I was taking my blog too seriously and needed to back off, thus meaning my only hobby may no longer exist. Most of us have at least one hobby we enjoy, and it is something we get great pleasure in pursuing. For me, it's blogging. And if I ever have a break from doing it, it will be because I want to, not because I feel forced to.

What that thief (for that's what she is) has done to me is make me stronger. If she thinks it's okay to steal other people's words and pretend they're her own, then I pity her. As both her blogs have now been deleted, and I am quite sure she has created another profile known simply as "I", then I think we can safely assume she has realised that what she has done is violation, theft and unlawful use of content. I'd like to move on from this experience. I want to get my blog back to being about me, my family, my daughter, my life, and take it away from being about a total stranger whom obviously has no morals, no shame and no remorse. Incredibly, she left a particularly bizarre comment on Yellow Gal's blog stating that she has done nothing wrong, we have all been mean to her and we should be ashamed of ourselves. For what, I have no idea, but as she went to the trouble of changing the odd word in each post, I would say it was obvious she knew what she was doing was wrong. What I find extremely sad is how her readers and followers naturally assumed the posts were written by her, about her, and left sympathetic comments not realising they were being taken for fools. There were 151 posts copied from one blog alone and I'm not sure whether that was mine or not.

Perhaps we'll never know who deleted her blogs, but at least we all know that sticking together and supporting each other is definitely the way to go. If the offender has read the comments on my previous post, then I hope she has learned a very valuable lesson; don't mess with a sheep farmer who has a "Beware of the Dog" sign on her front gate.

THANK YOU, EVERYONE

CJ xx

BREACH OF COPYRIGHT - I. AM. FURIOUS

By now, a lot of you know that some of my blog posts (amongst several other bloggers) have been copied and used on someone else's blog. The posts have been very slightly tampered with but the majority of content has been published. People have been reading these "fake" posts and leaving genuine comments, assuming the offending blogger to be innocent. I was alerted to this action last night by two of my readers who have also been targeted, Yellow Gal and Working Mum on the Verge. As far as I know there are others, but at this stage I don't know who they are.

This is a family-run blog and very personal to me. I work tremendously hard on my posts and blog for an audience. I am hugely upset about what's happened and had no alternative but to report the blog to Blogger last night, through the Report Abuse function. Whether Blogger will do anything about it I don't know. But they should. Immediately. This blogger needs to be made aware that she has illegally copied my words and passed them off as her own. I honestly don't know whether she realises she has committed a crime. That, as a writer, I find extremely sad. I do have a feeling however, that the blogger may assume she's done something wrong because she has since made her blog Invitation Only. Fortunately, I have many friends in the online community and some of them have taken screen shots of the blog to be used as evidence.

I suggest if people wish to copy blog posts unofficially and illegally, they target a blog that doesn't have 2,044 followers or someone who is well known on Twitter, Facebook and other social networking sites. I am not saying this to sound conceited, I am saying it because these people obviously don't understand the laws and etiquette of the online community.

I know you're all dying to know who the blogger is. I am aware that some may think that by me naming and shaming I am giving this blogger a higher stats reading, but as she's made her blog Invitation Only, I doubt it will make a difference. But she has another blog. And up to now, that is still open.

The offending blog (and the one which is now Invitation Only) is called Thinking, but I'm afraid you won't get on it because you now have to be invited. Her other blog is called The Discovery which still seems to be open to readers. I have left a comment on there but I imagine it will be deleted.

Copying blogs is apparently more common than we realise. I had no idea people could stoop so low as to actually do this but after last night, my eyes were opened to a whole new aspect of online interaction. My life is hectic but blogging is my only hobby. I have worked incredibly hard to maintain this blog and to find out it has been plagiarised has affected my trust in our wonderful world of blogging. Call me naive if you wish, but when you enjoy something as much as I enjoy blogging, to have something like this happen becomes very serious indeed.

On the plus side, it has improved my street cred, particularly on Twitter. Since announcing this unfortunate incident, I have gained nearly 50 new followers. A part of me feels pity for Thinking, for she has a desire to steal other people's words and obviously feels unable to use her own. But another part of me feels anger, a deep frustration that my rose tinted glasses have well and truly slipped. I guess I have something to thank her for; she has opened my eyes to cowardliness and the fact that thieving is becoming more common on the Internet.

I ask you all to leave a comment please (however long or brief), just to show your support and to tell these thieves that breaching copyright laws will not be tolerated and her actions have disgusted many people.


EDIT: AS OF 29th AUGUST, BOTH THE OFFENDER'S BLOGS HAVE BEEN DELETED.

Fabulous Surprise

I got a lovely surprise yesterday. You may remember back in April when it was Autism Awareness Month that I donated profits from sales of Discovery at Rosehill to the National Autistic Society; so many of you contributed to it by buying a copy of my book. Amy's old school also added to the donation when they had a non-uniform day which I asked if they would do. They raised £110 that day which made our joint donation £300. Anyway, I clicked onto Twitter yesterday evening and there were a few tweets from Bubbleboo, Aspie in the Family and Ellen Arnison, all of whom have children on the spectrum, and had received the Communication Magazine which is the official publication for the National Autistic Society. I had completely forgotten about the article they promised to feature about our fundraising, including a little information about my book. What an enormously pleasant surprise I got when I opened the magazine having just been delivered yesterday, and found on page 9 the most beautiful picture of Amy and the article titled "All Grown Up". It's really made my week this has. The magazine is full of interesting and fascinating articles about autistic people throughout the country and about how their families cope, information and research and many more wonderful snippets of invaluable material. Here's the article (it took up half a page!). If anyone wants any information about the National Autistic Society or about the Communication Magazine, please feel free to get in touch with me. Membership for the NAS is only £20 a year and the benefits are endless, including the magazine which is distributed four times a year.

My Best Blogging Tip

I love blogging. It gives me a warm glow. It makes me feel like I've achieved something. Blogging has introduced me to people all over the world, it has helped build my confidence, it has opened doors to a new way of life. I read so many blogs my eyes hurt. But I do that because I enjoy hearing about people's lives. I'm nosy, as I've said before. Recently, a few people have asked me questions about blogging; how do I manage to publish posts frequently, how come I have a large following. I'd like to think the answer to the latter question is quite simple; because people like my blog. I have a lot of loyal followers and I know I sometimes disappoint them with my content, but they still come back to support me. If you've just started blogging one of the best tips I could give you is to visit other blogs as regularly as your life will allow. Some people can only manage once a week, some only once a fortnight. Some people blog every day, albeit just reading other blogs, like me. I try to publish about 4 a week. The amount of blogs I get through in a week would bring water to your eyes, in fact, I daren't admit it for a fear of looking like my nick name of Billy-no-mates is mine for a reason.

Sometimes I do get a little frustrated when I've spent the best part of a working day scrolling through blogs (it was 70 the other day) and find I'm the one they didn't visit. Some of you will be saying now, 'but it isn't about "if you visit my blog, I'll visit yours"', and yes, you'd be right. Yet I still get asked the question about followers and comments and how I manage to get so many. I'm deeply honoured to receive comments on this blog, as you know, and I'm extremely honoured when someone wishes to follow it. For me, one can't receive a better compliment in the blogging world other than the loyalty of followers and comments. I don't check my stats because I'd rather not spend my life worrying about who visited, who didn't etc, but unless we leave comments on other blogs, people might not get to know us. I don't manage to get around all the people I follow and I feel guilty about that, but I would if there were more hours in the day. I suspect it's a similar situation for many other people, too. With the amount of blogs out there now it's impossible to read all the ones you follow, unless you only follow a handful of course. 

The best piece of advice I learned when I first created my blog was simply.... "blog". Don't be afraid to leave a comment; don't feel you have nothing to say. We always have something to say even if it's just "great post" "well-written" "what a load of rubbish", you only need to log onto Twitter, Facebook or other social networks to see how much people have to say. A part of me wishes the blogging world hadn't got so big, because in the early days I could get round every blog I followed, leave a comment and get to know the blogger. There are several bloggers whom I met in the very early days and still come here, Donna, Maggie May, Flowerpot, Country Girl, Alcoholic Daze, Casdok to name a few, but there's probably about 20-30 in total whom I got to know back in 2007. If you build up that loyal following and readership you've cracked it. But you won't do it unless you're prepared to take the time to visit other blogs so they know you're about. It does work both ways. 

The Better Deal

Over the past ten years of living on the farm, I've noticed how the Farmer refers differently to the tups and the ewes. He calls the tups, "gentlemen". Yet the ewes are just labelled as...."sheep". Unless it's lambing season when their proper name is used, i.e. "ewes".

He put the "gentlemen" through the foot bath the other day which simply does as it says on the tin - cleans their feet, prevents foot rot etc. It's not the most pleasant job in the world as you can imagine, but that's coming from someone who married the man whose chat-up line was "would you like to watch me clean the sheep's backsides?" That's right, you heard me; in June 2001, my "gentleman" Farmer wondered if I cared to witness a sheep having it's arse washed. Forget roses and champagne, romantic picnics and sailing away on an ocean liner, I got the sheep treatment.

Amy was helping to shuffle the tups back into their paddock where they spend nine months of the year grazing before they're required for duty. I stood near the gate and watched, admiring how clever she is at steering seven bollock-huge tups into a meadow of lush greenery, when the Farmer said, "easy does it, let them take their time." Amy stood back a little while each tup in turn had a nibble at the hedge, stopping for a quick break on their tremendously long stroll from sheep pen to paddock which must be all of about 25 yards. I thought about that for a moment; the sheep (and by sheep I mean boys and girls and breeding ewes who reside in the large fields) have to be tended in batches because there are several hundred of them and are herded by using the quad bike and a couple of collies at break-neck speed so as not to waste any time. It is quite funny though for when we put the tups in with the breeding ewes at the end of October, the tups move faster than a rat up a drain pipe, while dozens of horny ewes throw back their heads, ruffle up their wool and give their suitor an eyeful of their sparklingly clean back-end. Perhaps I should refer to the Farmer as a "gentleman" from now on.

Feeling A Right Tit

What do you do when you realise you've written a really shit blog post, published it and made a right tit of yourself?

I've done it a few times and I've deleted them. It's my blog, my rules. Some guy was trying to say that once you publish a blog post you should stand by it, whether it's controversial, offensive or just plain boring. But we all have off-days. I have a lot of them, even though I continue to write a blog post hoping it'll hide my mood. I think we can really tell a person's character through their blog posts, whatever the content. For example, if I'm feeling low my blog posts will reflect that and if something good has happened, again, this will come across in what I write. As I write this, I'm feeling a bit deflated if I'm honest. The summer holidays are great but from a selfish point of view, I can't get anything done. It's starting to drive me nuts. I'm eager to get on with my next book, eager to have a banter on Twitter, eager to write some blog posts that might just pull in the punters, then I get summoned outside to play ball in the fields with the dogs. I roll my eyes upwards and remember I'm a mum first and foremost.

But this feeling of deflation is really starting to annoy me. I miss social interaction, and I'm not afraid to admit that. Living remotely can be a lonely way to live, even though I wouldn't want to live anywhere else. I'm therefore not complaining, just stating an opinion. People are on holiday, entertaining their kids and families, days out to here, there and everywhere, and I'm like Billy-no-mates, checking my BlackBerry every few minutes to see if I've got another email or comment on my blog. I seriously need to get a grip.

The daft thing is, when Amy was much younger, school holidays, particularly the summer one, were absolutely horrendous. She was incredibly hard work and being driven to despair back then was so much worse than it is now. She plays on her own a lot and that's great, but it doesn't stop me from feeling guilty for wanting my day job back, the one where I actually do something productive instead of hauling a tennis ball in the field, spending half an hour looking for it then having to run back to the house for another, only to have the process start over again. I do hope I haven't made a tit of myself with this blog post. One hates to feel a tit. Unless one's feeling productive.....

Equality; Not Always

I was having a discussion with my husband the other night and amazingly enough, he agreed with me. Perhaps it was me agreeing with him that won him over, if that makes sense. The discussion followed a news report about a woman who complained about not being allowed in the bar area of a working men's club. I think we all know that in 2011, the majority of these types of clubs are now non-existent. This woman was just playing darts. I enjoy a game of darts, too, but I wouldn't want to play in a working men's club. That however, is my decision. It does beg one to ask the question though, if a man walked into a women's only aerobics class or anything that was open to women only, would he cause a fuss and lodge a formal complaint when he was refused entry? We all have rights but I do often think some of them are taken too far.

It's a matter of opinion whether or not you think it's right to stand at the bar of a working men's club when you're a woman, and it's a matter of choice also. Personally, I don't mind a man opening the door for me or carrying a heavy bag, nor would I object if the Farmer ran round to my side of the car and opened the door. He wouldn't, but that's besides the point. When it comes to equality, there is a time and place, one of which is in the workplace. I don't agree for example, that women aren't paid as much as men when they do the same job. And it does infuriate me how women are discriminated against for being a mother or of child bearing age. I understand this is problematic for some employers but women are human beings, too. I couldn't help saying to the Farmer, "I  wonder if that female darts player would complain if she saw a man walk into a women's only club." He agreed. I imagine she would complain. And that, even though it's 2011, is still the issue we face today; equality has a right to exist, but in so many cases it never will.

Edit: As one comment points out, you either have equality for everyone, or no one at all. We can't have it both ways.

Are People Ignorant for a Reason?

I was completely appalled at something I saw the other day during a trip to town. As always, the place was heaving with shoppers and tourists and driving along the main street was a real challenge. People walk out from nowhere, shouting at their kids to get a move on, "expecting" cars to just stop as they jay-walk in the middle of the road. It's a small town with a lot of shops and therefore attracts a lot of people, most of whom arrive by car. One has to be careful when driving through as the danger of clipping someone as they forget about the ferocity of cars becomes all the more apparent. I have a Land Rover Defender which is a big and powerful car, and even though I can handle it, it does cause a headache when people just walk in front of it when it's moving. Just as I approached the pedestrian crossing, the lights turned to red. I stopped, as you do.

There must have been around twenty people stood at that crossing, together with another thirty at least standing by the bus stops. Then I noticed a young woman and what looked like her younger sister pushing a rather large middle-aged man in a wheelchair. They were seriously struggling to get the chair off the curb and very nearly tipped the man out. My first reaction was to look at the other people all crossing at the same time as I automatically assumed someone would go to assist.

Not one person bothered to help that woman, not one. Out of the dozens of people who stood within centimeters away from that family struggling to get across the road, not one measly person helped. There were a lot of men in the vicinity who could easily have pushed that chair to the other side but no, that would have been too much trouble. When the woman eventually got to the other side the struggle started again and by now the lights had turned back to green. I looked in my rear view mirror and saw the man behind me shaking his head before he rudely hand signaled to me in an effort to encourage me to go. The young woman, her sister (as I assumed she was) and the man, whom I assumed was their father, were still in the road, struggling to get the chair up the curb. I couldn't stand it any longer. Still no one helped so I unfastened my seat belt, opened my door and shouted, "do you need some help?" The sister turned round and stared at me. I'm sorry, but I can't stoop to the level of people who don't even bother to offer; that young girl looked at me as though I was out of order for even asking. I'd rather be stared at as though I've got two heads than be branded as ignorant. But it does make you think, doesn't it?

Center Parcs

It's a pretty amazing place really. The brochures don't do it justice. I have never come across such incredible staff anywhere, and I say that with all honesty. Their customer service skills are second to none; they are all completely aware of the fact that people are on the site to enjoy themselves and it is quite obvious that each member of staff is there to ensure visitors do just that. You would think each one has been specially trained to work with special needs children. Their professionalism and expertise in dealing with areas of alternative living simply couldn't be faulted. The man who took the archery class actually used to work in a special school with autistic kids and knew exactly how to handle Amy. What a wonderful bunch of people they are. Thanks to their support and encouragement, we've had the best time. Here's a little of what we did:

Pony Trekking on "Ice"

Target Archery

Tree Trekking (very high up!)

The Stables. Really placid horses waiting for their riders.

Ducks came to the patio door and tapped on the bottom window!

Feeding the ducks on our 1st day.

Our fabulous view from our ground floor apartment - looking towards the indoor Swimming Pool

and lots and lots of swimming - well... when I say swimming, I stood at the bottom of the slides most of the time, whilst Amy shot down them. Unfortunately, my epilepsy prevents me from doing a lot of activities but hey ho, I live to my means and thoroughly enjoyed myself in the bargain. We ate out at an American restaurant called Hucks on Monday and Thursday night, an Italian restaurant called Bella Italia on Tuesday night and The Lakeside Inn on Wednesday night where we enjoyed an enormously wide variety of delicious cuisine and excellent service. We also went ten pin bowling, painting pottery and on the Zip Wire but those photos are on my mobile phone. And even better, I've booked for us to go back next year!

Thank you, Center Parcs, for a truly memorable holiday.

See You Soon!

Amy and I are off to Center Parcs till Friday. When I get back, I'll be updating my Blog Promotions page but do have a read of the ones on there currently. 

I'll be taking my iPad so will keep up to date on Twitter and Facebook, and of course I'll be checking on the blog. I find it impossible to switch off completely.

Hope you have a good week.

CJ xx

Upon an Ocean Bed

Hands caress the wheat fields as barley waves in the warm summer breeze. Four collies rustle through crops, searching for the noise they assume is an escaping mouse. Tails high in the air, just about reaching the tall stalks as vibrant red poppies bring a splash of colour to an otherwise camouflaged hectare. An engine roars from distant land, fired up, eating through ripened corn as it spits out golden straw. A tractor waits, trailer standing in patient poise, ready for the huge swinging arm to fill it with seed. A love affair with the fields is imminent; a heart to heart with a landscape giant is inevitable. Machines grace the countryside, farmers put the world to rights, everyone rallies round to gather the profits from a hopeful harvest.

Horses used to reap, and sow. Men would walk till their boots were no longer fit to tread. Wives made stew, kept the Aga fuelled, the cake tin full. Work was back-breaking though yield was rewarding; ink rarely used on mountainous forms, driven by bureaucracy. Harvest days no longer compare to past times, to the mile upon mile of exhausted limbs or the farrier's hammer on horse's hoof. As the sun goes down the fields light up with artificial bulbs, gigantic eyes searching through the darkness as peace tries hard to fall. Harvest lasted a long time once, a celebration followed its end. Now, a wishful farmer, a box of sampled corn and crossed fingers plead for another loaf of bread amongst the paperwork and invoices for the breakdowns. But one is always able to caress a hand over the wheat as one dreamily admires the barley waves in the gentle summer breeze.

Catching Up With Life

I spent the weekend at my mum's. Just needed to catch up with family and friends after nearly two years of not being able to go anywhere. Now that I've been I feel better but when I arrived on Friday afternoon, all I could think about was going home again. I have to admit it's been a very enjoyable weekend. I spent time with my brother and his family, my oldest and dearest friend whom I've known for 34 years, and then on Sunday I went to see my ex-husband and his absolutely lovely wife. I was a little nervous about seeing him again and perhaps somewhat apprehensive about meeting his wife but we hit it off from the moment we hugged. It was like seeing two life long friends and I can honestly say I feel all the more richer for being with them. It's more than 15 years since I got divorced and he hasn't changed a bit. To sit on the sofa with his wife chatting about everything and anything seemed the most natural thing to do. His family know we're in contact and find it rather odd; but life goes on.

The main thing is, we don't think it's odd because we simply drifted apart all those years ago. There was no one else involved, no bitterness, no spite. We knew things had ended between us and we also knew that we needed to set each other free. He found one of the nicest people I now have the privilege to call my friend, and moved on with his life. So I sat there in what used to be our three-bedroom semi, looked at Amy and thought about the way everything happens for a reason. Perhaps we would have had a child together, who knows, but that child wouldn't have been Amy. No matter where life's twists and turns lead us, there's always a straight path ahead. I'm walking along my path with my beautiful daughter, wonderful husband and am still able to wave to my past. Right now, I feel very lucky indeed.

Edit: Just to reiterate, my ex-husband is not Amy's biological father. We split up in 1996. Amy was born in 2000.