The REAL Reason For The Success of Breaking Dawn

I've just come back from our little town where I was doing some shopping. I was in our local bookshop/stationers when I couldn't help overhearing a conversation. It's hard not to when the participants are speaking that loudly. There were two middle-aged women and a teenager who was the daughter of one of the women. The daughterless woman (DW) was looking for a book.

DW: I'm looking for a book for Jenny by that woman writer - you know, Stevie Mywotsit - who writes about vampires.

Teenage Girl (TG): Oh yeah - Stephanie Meyer?

DW: Uhm - I really don't know. All I know is it's vampires.

TG (leading the way to the teen section which had a whole section devoted to Stephanie Meyer): Is it these ones?

DW: Yes! Yes! Oh but she has all these already she's just missing the last one.

TG: Oh that's Breaking Dawn - it's still out in hardcover. I don't think it's in paperback yet.

Then TG has a good look around the shelves and even goes to the front of the shop to check if it might be with the new releases.

DW: Any joy?

TG: No - afraid not. They tend not to stock harcovers of teen novels in here. The shop's too small and they only keep a small selection. I did see another Stephanie Meyer book over there though - it's in a different section.

OM (Other Mum) suggests they go have a look and they all decamp to another shelf to stand in front of The Host.

OM: You could get that for her instead.

DM: Oh yeah, I s'pose. Is it the same as the others?

TG: No. It's a different genre. This is science fiction. My friend read it though and she said it was brilliant.

OM: And a lot of writers write similar in their different books. If she likes them vampire ones she might like this too.

DM: I dunno. She really wants that last vampire one to see how it comes out.

TG: Just order it online. You could have it in a couple of days.

DM: But she's nearly finished the ones she has...

At this stage a slight quiver of panic was starting to enter her (very annoying and loud) voice. The other two just had blank expressions - clearly they did not understand the problem. So DM continued...

DM: Wot it is - right? When school finished on Friday she came down here and bought them other books and disappeared with them into her room. She loves them. She's had her head stuck in them non-stop. I haven't seen hide nor hair of her since...

Then she took a breath and added....

....It's been lovely.

Hubby's Pretty Pictures

As I mentioned (somewhere) in the previous post (or possibly the comments), Hubby took a few pictures of the bluebells and woods too. I think you'll agree that these pics don't need frilly prose to make them look good. So all I'll say is - Enjoy!
This was taken in The Bluebell Wood in Ashridge on the road to Ivinghoe Beacon.

Ashridge, Bucks.

Mossy logs and bluebells in the woods near our house.

A very English woodland path.

Beautiful green sycamore leaves.

If you took the time to look down, the woodland floor had plenty of gems to offer.
Bluebell.

Buttercup.

Woodland Anemone.

Pretty Pink.

And so ends our little nature walk through Springtime in England.

Woodland Wandering

It struck me as I walked through the woods recently, that there is a magical quality about woodland that you don't find in any another landscape. It's no wonder that fairy stories grow up from this environment. Everything about them stirs the imagination. Free from the pollution of humanity they feel more purely natural and yet, so strangely supernatural. The moss under the trees looks and feels like a luxurious natural carpet - fit for Titania as she plots against her treacherous Oberon. Every step you take is accompanied by an orchestra of bird calls while the breeze gently breathes through the trees.

It is at its most bewitching in spring when the bluebells cover the ground with a purple mist. The sun is still penetrating the burgeoning canopy filling the space with dappled light. You can almost hear the giggles of the fairy folk. There is evidence of them around if you take the time to look carefully.
This is unmistakably the front door to a castle.

A meeting place perhaps - a fairy school.

And what of this? Am I alone in thinking it looks like a discarded spell book or tome of woodland wisdom?

Another thing that I love about the woods is the way that nature has decorated it. The ground is uneven and strewn with debris. Knotted roots plot to trip you. I swear they move and are never in the same place twice. I have a theory that the trees and woodland creatures are in cahoots and our stumbles are their entertainment as they hide in the branches.
The wind plays a big part in forming the woodland and our wood suffered terribly at her hands in the hurricane of 1987. However the myriad of fallen trees have added the most incredible structural beauty to the place. It's as though Nature herself fancied a bit of sculpture.


The combination of sunlight passing trough the canopy while the breeze moves the branches means that there is a constantly changing palette of shadows being cast. The tiny stream that meanders and trickles through this enchanting place is the perfect place to watch them. Sometimes it's so perfectly peaceful you could almost drift away...
But there's always a reminder that we've got to keep going.
Pooch doesn't like to stay still for long.

Howdy!

So… I'm not dead or anything. I thought I'd let you know that. I'm alive and … well … sneezing. Ah the sun, she came out and brought with her all the little polleny harbingers of misery. I'm a bit miffed actually because it's a bit early. I normally get through most of May (which is my favourite month of the year) without the snot monster coming for me. I'm only hoping that as it's started early, it might finish early too. Sniff.

Other than that I'm quite busy at work. This is the time of year for assessments and reviews and planning and all that stuff. It's a bit knackering and time-consuming but mostly it's thought consuming. My mind is so far away from writing that I haven't been able to cobble a blog post together for a couple of weeks. And I have loads of things to write about. I have my annual bluebell post to do (I have 2 posts of photos; the first are the crappy ones I took of my woodland walk and the second are the wonderful ones that Hubby took), I have a post planned to review Cindy Pon's Silver Phoenix, a similar one for Sarwat Chadda's Devil's Kiss - not to mention a very thoughtful and reflective post on household appliances. I just have to find the time..

Ah time ... that slippery little bugger.

In the meanwhile if you don't hear from me - blame the Koala. I hear she's got her claws out and my entrails may soon be on display for all. Sorry McK. It's just that I have this thing called a life...

OW! Bloody hell those things are sharp!