Today was Mardy’s last day. Yesterday she was showing unhealthy signs that today precipitated a one-way trip to the V. E. T.

Although still compos mentis and looking at me in the quizzical way hens do when they’re weighing up whether to peck you or not, I still had to lift her into the cardboard box and deliver her to her fate. She had been smote by something – only an autopsy would tell (and that wasn’t going to happen) and was unable to eat or drink or stand. Last night her sisters nestled close to her on the hen house floor to keep her warm, clucking and cooing gently as night fell. By sunrise I was fully expecting to be disposing of her feathery figure. I was surprised then, to see her still breathing this morning, but all was not well.  

Hens are interesting creatures, as Sam Hunt’s poem Hennosaurus explores – indeed they would eat your remains if they had the chance, (!) but they also know a good thing when they see it and very much like you alive and well to feed and fuss them. And oh – so nosey! Interest is immediately elevated should I start digging in the garden, and even a quick visit to the washing line to hang out some sheets brings them rushing toward me all wings and curiosity. Especially since The Spider Incident. Initially I thought that despite being exceptionally intelligent creatures they still hadn’t worked out that pegs are inedible. But it isn’t that – their memories are astonishing. Let me explain. Back in the summer I was hanging out some washing and let out a rather pathetic squeal when I picked up a peg and a spider crawled out from inside it. Being very Little Miss Muffat I dropped said peg instantly (it was a big spider, ok?!) and Mardy rushed forth. With her amazing eyesight she saw the spider and snaffled it up. So I think that’s why they get all excited when they see the washing basket – they remember the food that pegs can unexpectedly deliver. All of the hens that are currently trashing our garden without a horticultural care in the world are rescue hens, courtesy of The British Hen Welfare Trust. It was one of these rescue hens that inspired my story Betty Hen, which is included in my collection of short stories and inspired the picture on the cover.
I’m sure Mardy won’t mind if she ends up as a character in one of my stories – and although a right mardy madam from the word go – hence her name – she went quietly and peacefully. A poem for the lovely sparky Mardy:

Goodbye Mardy hen
Thank you for your eggs
I never realised
That spiders live in pegs

(I didn’t say it was going to be good)

Are you awash with so many blogs, comps and sites to see, but oh-so little time? Making the most of the benefits that Displacement Activity can bring, I’ve listed a few here – my first little round up of some great sites out there, in case you haven’t heard of them before.

What are you waiting for? Come on in. The water’s lovely!

https://electricliterature.com
‘Expanding the influence of literature in popular culture by fostering lively and innovative literary conversations’ is what is says on their website. And they do!

https://selfpublishingadvice.org/book-marketing-how-to-reach-young-readers-through-book-festivals/
For self-publishers of children’s and YA books here’s an item on Book Marketing: How to Reach Young Readers through Book Festivals, courtesy of those clever clogs at Self Publishing Advice Centre, via the Alliance of Independent Authors

https://falwriting.com/new-blog/2017/11/3/portrait-of-the-academic-as-a-student-danielle-barrios-oneill
45 Things I Wish I Knew as an English Undergraduate. This is a great blog and should bring a smile to your face

https://writershq.co.uk/list-free-writing-competitions-enter-end-2017/
Some free-to-enter comps here from the crazy Let’s Do This Thang team at Writers HQ, so you can Aim High and Achieve.

http://www.scottishbooktrust.com/reading/book-lists/16-scottish-murder-mysteries
Like crime? The Scottish Book Trust have got some murderous villains all waiting to be set free

https://riggwelterpress.wordpress.com/about/
Rigg what? Exactly. You’d be daft not to submit.

https://thegullmagazine.wordpress.com/contact/
The Gull accepts submissions of poetry, creative prose, artwork, photography and articles as well has having some truly excellent words of the day on Twitter. Or is that Word of the Day…

https://www.theshortstory.co.uk/the-short-story-home/about/
The Short Story website. Clue is in the title.

https://flashfictionmagazine.com/blog/books/
How flashy is your flash?

https://spelkfiction.com
Spelk post three 500 word stories a week, from both new and established writers, from the UK and overseas. They like short sharp flash fiction.

http://www.talesfromgower.co.uk/327566841
Jill Moffat’s great site, full of info and stories, and she’s also a dedicated re-tweeter of Fabulous Opportunities For Writers. Thanks Jill!

and last but not least for this little lot,

https://zeroflash.org
They’re a lovely lot at Zeroflash: supportive, helpful and good at getting it out there.
‘ZF is a flash fiction competition and magazine. The winner receives an illustration of their winning piece, a hefty £10 via Paypal, an interview with Uprising Review and an audio performance and recording of their piece.’

How cool is that!

This year’s impossible-to-find Christmas indulgence has to be static outdoor plug-in timer-controlled fairy lights. Now, you could argue that because fairies themselves don’t exist I shouldn’t be surprised that I can’t actually find any Fairy Lights.

But there are boxes and boxes and tubs and rolls of fairy lights in the shops – but all annoyingly Multifunction, or Electrically Nuts as they were described to me recently. Ok, so let’s go with ‘multifunction’ – why 8? Why 8 functions? How many do we need to choose from? On, Flash, FlashyFlashFlash, FlashyFlashyDim should do, surely? But 8?! Before this turns into a pre-Christmas rant that could end with a parsnip and some stuffing placed where it shouldn’t, let me explain. My hunt started in August, an idle thought that whispered in my ear as I was sitting in the sun one summer evening after – clearly – too much chilled vino de blanco. Outdoor static lights I can plug in to a timer, I thought, how hard can it be to find those? And so here we are with December 25^th edging ever nearer and I am no closer to finding a simple set of lights that isn’t out to blind me or trigger a headache. Unlike my white wine, which was Chilled White, my hunt involved not only static lights, but Warm White lights – something else it seems impossible to find. Ultra Bright Burn Your Eyeballs Out White lights, sure, zillions of ‘em. But something softer on the eye? Try an eye patch.

But then, Lo! Like you know who seeing a star (not a flashing one, nor an ultra bright white one) I found a website which purported to sell the required outdoor, plug in, timer-controlled, warm white, static fairy lights. Joy! I made my selection but decided to check the Description box first. 8m of Ultra White Multifunction Lights it stated. Hmmm. That’s not how they were advertised. And then up popped the little box: Live Chat.
Well, I thought, I think I just might…
You are typing…Hi, can you confirm if the warm white static lights on your site really are warm and static, and not multifunction as stated in the description for the static lights please?
Boris is typing…Hi What lights were you interested in?
You are typing…the static ones…(and it’s are, not were)(didn’t say that of course. Perhaps I should have)
Boris is typing...yes there static
You are typing…(y apostrophe r e) (grrr) but in the description it states multifunction. And ultra bright.
Boris is typing…hold on.. I’ll check
(long pause)
You are typing…hello?
Boris is typing…Yes the description for the ultra bright multifunction is the same for the warm white static
(pause)
You are typing…why?
(pause)
Boris is typing…we have to put all the descriptions on the site
(pause)
You are typing…er… what?
Boris is typing…If you clicked warm white static then thats what you’d get
You are typing…(grrrr..) But how do I know that if I chose one thing and the description for it states something else, that I’d get the right thing?
Boris is typing…We’ve got them in red and blue to
You are typing...(Grrrr…too, not to) OK! Thanks for your help. Bye.

Ok. Enough. I’ll try the shops I thought. So I tried the shops. And again was baffled by the current fashion for multifunction lights. The trouble is, when plugged into a socket and timer, as soon as the plugged-in timer clicks in, the 8 Million Multifunction outdoor lights revert to the first function, which is I think called Panic Party. Or Party Panic. Either way it frightens the owls and gives me a migraine.

Last week I was in the company of a Swedish lady and she had some unusual gold S-shaped ‘things’ resting on the top of an internal doorframe. Candle holders, she explained. For the Christmas tree. “You use lit candles in your Christmas tree?!” I asked, astounded. “Oh yes! It’s very Swedish! We balance the top bit around a branch and place a thin candle in the tiny dish, light it, and all stand back and clap.”

As the whole thing goes up in flames, presumably. Mind you, I can see the appeal…

Only in the countryside, eh? Thankfully, the avian driver of the vehicle wasn’t fined by an officer of Her Majesty’s finest for allowing her passengers to travel without a seat belt, nor did she incur a fine herself  for travelling without one.
Goodness knows how – or indeed if – she reached the pedals, or managed to change gear with those flappy, feathery wings. It was a good job she wasn’t breathalysed, although if she had been, instructions to Keep Blowing Keep Blowing Keep Blowing! may have thrown up a few Beak-to-Breathalyser issues.

So how did this sparky little madam end up in the back of a Landy? How indeed. I could say she was being filmed for BBC’s Countryfile. I could say she was being busted from a chicken farm and being taken to safety. I could say that I found her wandering around willy-nilly on the side of the road (that does happen round these parts). Or I could say she was being taken for a day out. Choice is yours; you decide. Whatever the reason, rest assured she will be appearing in my next  series of short stories, A Collection of Unexpected Short Stories.

Here’s a taster. Appropriate, really, considering the temperature today!

WINTER

She puffs out her chest as the north wind buffets her small body and ruffles the delicate feathers tasked with protecting her from the chill of winter. Perched amid a leafless web of spiky hawthorn branches the sparrow finds little shelter from the icy confetti that falls silently and steadily around her, yet she is content to wait. A trudge of foot, a gentle call and a sweeping hand knocks snow from the bird-table and it falls a second time, a mini avalanche of ice dust to land on the snow below. Crumbs of fatty nuts and bread are hastily scattered across the snow-dusted table and then she is alone once more. With darting swiftness she takes flight and lands amid the food, a rich brown berry on the pure white snow. Hungrily she gathers what she can. To make it through this darkest of seasons she must eat every day, the scales of sustenance holding her struggle so stay alive precariously in the balance until the earth tips Springward again. She eats quickly before her banquet disappears beneath fresh snowfall.

            Other birds, with empty stomachs and keen eyes are also looking for food. On soundless wings a sparrow hawk descends – because she too, must eat.