Every January blog has to have one. That is, a blog about New Year’s Resolutions.

Well this is going to be short and sweet because I haven’t made any. I’ve resolved not to resolve. Why? Because even the simplest ones never work for me. Take this lunchtime. I’m trying to be good, like St. Mary of Portas told me, and support my local shopkeeper so instead of buying my veg from Sainsbury’s I thought I’d go to the greengrocer down the road. What happened? It was closed for lunch.

So instead of resolutions I’ll tell you what I’m hoping to achieve as a writer this year:

• Completion of the final book in Girls FC.

• Doing more visits as an author, especially in schools, libraries and at girls’ football events.

• Not make a botch of being Chair of the Children’s Writers and Illustrators Group committee (I am taking over from the one-and-only Gillian Cross so I have big shoes to fill).

• Plan a new, exciting YA book.

I’ll keep you posted everytime I achieve one of my aims. Watch this space, folks… and good luck with yours.

The Daughter had the board game QI as one of her Christmas presents yesterday so in the spirit of Stephen Fry let me bestow upon you knowledge you never knew you needed.

Boxing Day, according to my Ladybird Book of Christmas Customs, goes back to medaeval times when alms boxes were placed at the back of churches to collect money for the poor. The alms boxes were always opened on 26th December.

Alms boxes themselves go back to Roman times. To pay for the celebrations at their winter festival of Saturnalia they used to save money in little earthenware boxes with a slit on top. I think this is a cracking idea and should be brought back ASAP.

December 26th is also St Stephen’s Day. St Stephen was the first man to be martyred for believing in the teachings of Jesus. He was stoned to death.

What is Boxing Day in 2011?

The Spending of the Gift Voucher. This is where all those bits of plastic contained in all those flat little presents you opened yesterday from the relatives who ‘never know what to get you,’ hit the High Street.  Watch a thousand faces fall as the shop assistant reveals the meagre amount on the card. ‘Ten quid? Ten lousy quid?’

 The First Day of the Sales. If the sales hadn’t started in mid-November because of the recession.

The Eating of the Cold Turkey around the buffet table. Other traditional foods include pork pie with piccalilli and/or pickled onions. It has to be piccalilli, by the way. None of yer fancy ‘chutneys.’  

The Emptying of the First Tin of Roses/Quality Street/Celebrations you bought in that ‘unbeatable’ offer in Sainsbury’s. This requires great fortitude. Those orange creams are disgusting. But you will eat them. You know you will eat them.

The Loss of Interest in the Tree. You’ve loved that tree for two weeks but now the fairy lights are not twinkling quite so merrily, are they? And the pine needles aren’t being sucked up the Hoover quite quite the same gusto. Basically, that tree is dead to you now.

The Watching of the Football. Christmas Day felt like it lasted a century and you feel the need for a bit of exercise. You’re not going outside the door, obviously, but there’s loads of sport on the telly, including a full-on footy fixture list. Bring it on. 

Enjoy xxx

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all my readers. Wishing you the best of times for the year ahead

I’ve had an idea for a story. It’s based around a man and a sweeping brush. I haven’t thought of a name for the man yet but I’m veering towards Siegfried. OK, let’s go for that. Siegfried it is. Now Siegfried’s job is to sweep up old words that nobody wants any more. They gather in a special grille on Obsolete Street.

Here are some recent ones Siegfried collected when Collins Dictionary decided they no longer needed them in their 2011 edition:
younker

deliciate

frigorific

aerodrome

bever

charabanc

cassette tape
As Siegfried sweeps the old words away, a young, fresh-faced  girl called Chelci collects new ones in a jar.

The new ones seem so short and strange compared to the old ones. LOL, TMI, IMHO and Woot. ‘These new words are well weird,’ thinks the young girl.
Meanwhile Siegfried shakes his head at the sight of ‘cassette tape’ stuck in his bristles. ‘Casette tape?  That’s been made redundant? But I still use mine!  What next?’he wonders. Then he stops. He seems to have missed something in the grille. The slip of paper is half in, half out of the metal struts. He bends closer. He can just make out that the end of the word is -ian. ‘Ian? Siegfried ponders. ‘Meridian?’
He tugs, but the word won’t yield. This has happened before. Sometimes a word is on its way out but is rescued at the last minute. He knows he can’t sweep the word away just yet. Next time maybe but not just yet. ‘Ian? Ian?’ he thinks. It annoys him all day. It isn’t until he gets home that evening and reads the news online he realises what the word is. ‘It was confirmed today that Hertfordshire County Council has axed its School Library Service…’ ‘Ah,’ Siegfried thinks with a sigh. ‘Librarian.’