Morag Clarke

Race For Life

2006-07-06T19:23:00.000Z

I have just completed the 5km Race for Life in aid of Cancer Research, on a sweltering hot day in Blackheath, London, where temperatures reached 30 degrees and even my factor 25 sunscreen and several bottles of water seemed inadequate. Once again I was astounded to see the vast numbers of women taking part - this year there were over 9,000 of us. The organisation was brilliant, from the numerous portaloos, the welcome free drinks and the well earned medal and goodie bag at the end of the run. My time was 43 minutes, so much slower than previous years, but understandable considering the heat. I'd like to say a huge thank you to the organisers; the stewards who marshalled the run, and the teams of volunteers who all helped in their own way to make this an enjoyable event - and all in a good cause. Thanks also to my sponsors and the crowds who turned up to support us over the finishing line. See you all again next year.

Luke is missing

2006-06-21T19:16:00.000Z

My friend Nicki's nineteen year old son, Luke, went missing after a night out in Ipswich on May 11th 2006. He has not been seen since despite nationwide publicity, posters and appeals on television, in the press and on the radio.
I cannot begin to imagine how Nicki must be feeling, or indeed, how any mother must feel when their child fails to come home, but I have a pretty good idea. It doesn't matter how old your children are - you never stop worrying about them.
A website has been set up by concerned relatives at http://findluke.com/
The messages received are both touching and poignant and I hope, offer some comfort to Nicki, in what can only be described as every mother's worst nightmare.
Let's hope she hears some good news soon.

The perfect cat litter tray

2006-05-08T13:03:00.000Z

Don't you just love it - the blossom on the trees, the birds singing, the bulbs blooming - Spring has finally made a welcome arrival. I don't care if it rains (we need rain). I just love the longer, lighter evenings; the brighter mornings and the promise of more to come. Hence the reason I spent the weekend digging over the garden in readiness for all those little seedlings I'm going to transplant from their pots in the shed. The ground was mulched, manured and raked over in readiness - a brown blanket of nutrients and plant nourishing goodness - perfect.
The local neighbourhood cats thought so too. Here was the perfect cat litter tray, with its fine, crumbly soil, no awkward stones or clods of earth and no twigs or leaves to dig through - excellent.
Now I love cats, dogs and all manner of beasties, but not when they dig up my seedlings and scatter my tender plants into the vicinity of the lawn. I've tried pepper (it doesn't work), curry powder (it stinks) and black cotton thread (very fiddly). Has anyone got any better suggestions? Or shall I stick to hanging baskets instead.

Decorating with pets

2006-03-15T11:24:00.000Z

As it's a bit cold to tidy up the garden, March seems the ideal month to do a spot of decorating. Except that when you've got animals in the house, its not always easy. I thought I was being clever by painting the banisters and skirting boards while our black cat was asleep on a bed upstairs. (He's not usually allowed in the bedrooms, but in this case, I made an exception). He would sleep all day, I thought, and the paint would probably be dry before he woke up. Wrong.
He was awake within the hour and standing poised on the landing ready to rub himself up and down the newly painted woodwork. I made a grab for him and carried him downstairs, relieved and pleased that I'd rescued him unscathed. It was only as he strolled off down the garden that I saw, with horror, the large white handprint I'd left on his fur. Needless to say, I had to resort to the scissors, (gloss paint is not the easiest thing to remove from long black fur) but what the heck - he's moulting now anyway. I'm sure it won't be long before he looks his handsome, well groomed self again. The stairs are looking pretty good too.

MP3's discovered.

2006-02-20T19:31:00.000Z

I've recently become an MP3 convert, ever since I bought one for my son at Christmas on a 'buy one, get one free' offer. I'll never use that, I thought, (having only ever seen teenage hoodies wandering round the town with ear-phones in their ears, doing goodness knows what damage to their hearing.). Hubby said it might come in useful on the plane journey to New Zealand (it did), and thoughtfully recorded a few classics (Dire Straits, the Rolling Stones, Pink Floyd, that sort of thing). Magic - I could listen to what I wanted, when I wanted, without bothering anyone else on the plane - or at least, that was the plan. The reality was that my daughter kept jabbing me in the ribs every time I started humming out loud, and gesticulating wildly at my ear phones each time I tried to talk to her in what I thought was a normal voice (it wasn't). However, I'm getting the hang of it now. I use it at the gym to try and counteract the pounding stuff they churn out over the loudspeakers, and it's brilliant for lightening the mood when doing the weekly supermarket shop. So next time you see a middle-aged woman with ear plugs in, don't assume she's an old dear who's hard of hearing (particularly if she starts humming at the check-out).
It might well be me.

Reflections on the New Zealand possum

2006-01-24T20:29:00.000Z

Isn't it funny how it's always the little things that stick in one's memory after visiting somewhere new. I mean, I could go on about the fantastic scenery and weather, the wonderful people and the stunning beaches of New Zealand. I could mention swimming with dolphins, or meeting a real live Kiwi (of the bird variety), or even attending a Maori hangi - all of which were fascinating and memorable, but no, it's the little things that intrigued me. For instance, why, when there's virtually no cars on the road, is there such an abundance of squashed possums? Talk about road-kill. And this is a country where you can drive for miles without seeing any other vehicle. Apparently New Zealanders class possums as noxious animals because they destroy native bush and kill off the kiwis. (Possum knitwear sells with the slogan - "buy this item and save a tree.") So either the locals are driving with the aim of hitting as many possums as they can, (I heard that rumour in a pub) or these short sighted beasties are actually leaping into the road with excitement when they see a car and accidentally getting squashed in the process. Who knows? Personally, I think they look quite cute. (Whole, not flattened, that is).

Christmas Down Under

2006-01-03T09:47:00.000Z

Well, it's been a funny old Christmas. I missed Christmas Day crossing the Date Line on a trip to New Zealand. Set off Christmas Eve, and arrived Boxing Day - most bizarre. Still, at least the sun was shining, and I missed the snow and ice forecast for Suffolk. I can't get the hang of Christmas lights and decorations on a blistering hot sunny day, though. It's a bit like someone forgot to take them down after twelfth night. New Year's Eve was even more surreal - watching fireworks at midnight on the beach, wearing shorts and sandals. Hmm. Still, there's a lot to be said for life 'down under'. The people are great and the scenery is spectacular. If I'm lucky I may even get to see a whale and swim with dolphins. Here's hoping.
Happy New Year to one and all.

Christmas stamps

2005-12-14T22:09:00.000Z

Having done the Christmas shopping (almost finished) and written the cards, I went to the Post Office to buy some stamps. 'Had I any objection,' they asked, 'to religious scenes on the stamps?'
'It's Christmas,' I replied, slightly puzzled. 'Well, we have to ask,' the counter assistant said, 'in case people object. We've already had one complaint this morning.'
From whom? I wanted to say, but didn't.
Is it me, or has the whole world gone stark staring mad?

Christmas shopping

2005-12-05T16:47:00.000Z

You'd think I'd be able to buy at least one present, wouldn't you, after an afternoon spent trawling the shops? But no, I have, yet again, returned home empty handed. There's too much choice. I can't make up my mind. Do I buy jewellery that I like (but they might not), books I want to read (they might have read them), music CDs (what if they already have them), or perfume? I thought that was a good idea. You can test perfume. Except, there's just too many to test. One well informed sales assistant told me not to try more than a couple a day as my nostrils would not be able to differentiate between several different fragrances. (After my stinking cold I was having trouble differentiating between any of them.) So that's why I'm now back home, empty handed and having a re-think about the whole Christmas shopping experience. Gift vouchers, I have to say, seem suddenly rather appealing.

Celebrity watching in the jungle

2005-11-27T11:41:00.000Z

Ok, I admit it, I'm hooked. One week in and I'm one of those sad people glued to 'I'm a Celebrity, get me out of here.' (Well, I did have a cold, so I couldn't go out). What is it about a group of semi-famous people stuck together in a tropical rainforest for a fortnight that I find so appealing? I like to think its because I'm a writer. People-watching can be so fascinating. The best characters come from a combination of personalities. 'I'm a Celebrity' has such a perfect mix of them - the sweet girl who's frightened of everything, the macho man, the perfect gentleman and the wonderfully capable matriarch to name but a few (and no, I'm not naming them). What great characters for a novel. I feel inspired already. Maybe I'll wait until next week before I put pen to paper, though. After all, there's still seven episodes to go.

Cure for the common cold

2005-11-24T17:15:00.000Z

There's nothing like suffering from a cold to make one wonder why no one's found a cure for it. I mean, colds are so common, aren't they?
Well, rest assured, my Swedish friend has come up with a wonderful remedy - Blossa Glogg.
To the uninitiated, this is a Swedish mulled wine, (Glogg means heated wine). For many hundreds of years, the Swedes have spiced and heated wine during the long and cold winters. (Sensible folk). Blossa Glögg is made according to a recipe from the 1880s, using red wine and spices like ginger, clove and cardamon. It is heated and served in small cups with a sprinkling of raisins and almonds. Well, you can forget the small cups. For the full effect try half a mugful, piping hot (or a full mugful if you dare, but don't drive or operate machinery - this stuff is 15% proof) - and I guarantee it will clear a stuffy nose, soothe sore throats, and loosen wheezy chests. Magic stuff. Trouble is, I don't know if its for sale in this country. My lovely friend always brings me a bottle each time she pops home to Sweden to visit her family. If anyone knows where to get some in Suffolk, I'd be pleased to hear about it.

Green Wellies and Wax Jackets - a history

2005-11-21T18:50:00.000Z

If anyone has been watching the 'Shakespeare retold' series on television, they'll know that writing a modern twist to an old tale is common practice, especially when searching for a decent plot. (Creative writing tutors have been known to suggest the idea to their students.) Faced with just such an assignment, I decided to use the theme of Cinderella for my tale. (As a romance writer, it would fit the bill perfectly - beautiful girl triumphs despite the odds, and wins her man)).
"Write about what you know" is another much quoted phrase, given freely and helpfully to would be writers. I knew a bit about horses, liked riding and loved watching show-jumping.That decided it. I'd write a story with a horse riding background. Cinderella wouldn't go to the ball - she'd compete in a showjumping competition instead.
The result is 'Green Wellies and Wax Jackets' - an original take on an old and well-used theme, with unashamedly pantomime characters (the clumsy showjumping stepsisters, for starters), a handsome film producer, and a heroine who loves horses.
There's only one small problem. Wonder what I should use for my next novel?

Green Wellies and Wax Jackets

2005-11-18T11:50:00.000Z

My latest book is Green Wellies and Wax Jackets, ISBN 1-898030-50-2, from all good bookshops, will appeal to anyone who has ever ridden a horse, attended a riding school, fallen in love with a handsome man.

Imagine Cinderella, the two ugly sisters, and a domineering stepmother transported to a stable yard, and the day-to-day running of a riding school. Add a film crew, one drop-dead-gorgeous actor, and a determined film producer, and you have the setting for Green Wellies and Wax Jackets – a hilarious romp through the world of show jumping and equestrian activities.