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This week I'm having a writing week. I've used a day off in lieu and a day's annual leave and my bike riding husband's absence to declare it so. I love writing weeks – so if you were thinking of dropping in, please don't. Remind me some time to tell you about the joys of being an introvert – about loving silence and not having to talk to anyone, about not getting lonely in your own company, being able to read long and late into the night without disturbing anyone, about not having to sweep the floors or do the dishes… Actually, I suspect the latter may fall into the slovenly category. But hey, I'm a slovenly introvert.

Now, as this is a writing week, I'm focussing on my novel <all round general groan-hasn't she been doing that for years>. Well, yes, I have but, I have to tell you folks, I aiming to finish this year. I've booked a how to pitch your novel class in April and a Literary speed dating session in June. So you see, this writing week is important. It's part of my race to the finish line.

But gee, it's hard being a writer. As well as having a fantastic manuscript you also need a social media presence. Which is where you, my dear friends, come in. Apparently, I'm not allowed to put a notice up on my blog saying: be back later when the novel is finished. Apparently, I have to keep the content rolling in. Personally, I'm not good at this (it falls into the obsessive part of my personality). I like to focus – okay, I'm an obsessive, slovenly, lazy introvert.

But that's where YouTube clips come in.

No, wait! Before you hit the close button. I haven't trawled through YouTube and found a near-enough-is good enough option. I've chosen one of my favourites. Rod Gilbert's Hoover Rant.

Why Rod Gilbert? There are three reasons.

  1. He's funny (fairly important for a comedian)
  2. He's Welsh (fairly important to me personally)
  3. Because of the memories

You see words like Hoover remind me I was born in Britain. Before we emigrated, my mum Hoovered, we ate dinner at lunch time, and this meal sometimes involved liver and bacon. Over the years, we've dropped these British habits. But deep down words like Hoover remind me of my heritage.

Now in case you're wondering, hoovering has nothing to do with the 31st US president. In the UK everyone Hoovers even if they don't have a Hoover Vacuum cleaner (at least they did when I lived there). Recently, I asked Mum whether she'd brought her Hoover to Australia when we emigrated. She said, 'no, you're dad wouldn't let me. We had to buy a second hand Hoover once we got here. And it wasn't a very good one, either.'

Poor Dad isn't alive to defend himself but, personally, I think he had the right idea. Who'd pay to bring a Hoover ten thousand miles? Besides, I'm not a great fan of Hoovering or vacuuming as we call it in Australia, (wooden floors people – I'm not an out and out sloth). But I do know at some point our family traded in that second hand Hoover and for a brand new Electrolux Vaccum cleaner. At this point, I think you could safely say we had assimilated. Gone were the English school sandals Mum forced me wear (yes, still, in therapy) we had tomato sauce on the table alongside the HP and we'd learned to pronounce words like yoghurt and Lego differently (gee, if only I got paid for product placement). But over the years, I've never forgotten where I come from and words like Hoover bring it all back to me.

So, thanks Rod Gilbert for your Hoover Rant and for being such a funny Welsh comedian.

 

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