Just a quick catch-up. There are new readers, desperately trawling the Internet for anything to save them from filing off their corns with sandpaper, reaming out their fingernails with a teaspoon, or even, (the well known regular reader’s end-of-everything, terrible measure of last resort, ‘Bing Bong. We have arrived at Last Resort Of Boredom. Disembark now. Bong bing.’ Cataloguing your sock drawer. Oh yes. Winter formal, on the left: two pairs ankle, black fine wool. One pair mid calf, black nylon. One pair welt missing left sock, thick wool, keep for wellies. Brown one and half pairs synthetic, sweaty. Brown one pair crispy. Brown one pair pale, only goes with fawn trousers do not chuck yet. Red with cat faces on, do not wear for work. Pink flamingos, what possessed me?)
Oh yes, this is the blog so awful it’s the antidote to screaming boredom.
Well no. Not really.
JaneLaverick.com, is written by me, Jane (Laverick but not Laverick.com that’s just a disguise for Tinternet, did you spot me?)
Over ten years ago I began to write this blog following requests. No, not the ‘Oi you, why don’t you just nakk orf an’ write a blog, eh?’ No, surprisingly, not that kind of request at all. At the time I was slightly well-known in a tiny way for writing for craft and hobby magazines in the field of dolls and dolls’ houses. I had started writing a funny column because I was asked if I could write, on the strength of some instructions I had included in a doll kit I had made. It wasn’t meant necessarily to be the funny column but I was of the opinion that some of those involved in the miniatures hobby, at the time, were so far up themselves there was no visible daylight and I thought we all needed a laugh. From that small beginning I expanded (this is inevitable. Experiment by sitting writing for hours at a time, absolutely hours, whilst keeping yourself going with chocolate and you will find the same thing happening to you.) I began to interview artists working in all disciplines in miniature. I did it prior to shows, for publicity, but the artists complained that, as there was a six month lead-in for magazine publishing, it could only be used to tell collectors what they had made and sold six months ago. Being artists the best stuff was the bit of art finished just before the show and plonked on the table, in a moment of triumph, often still wet round the edges. What they wanted was to tell people the day before the show what was new and lovely.
So I started this blog, using my own name because miniaturists knew who I was (and I still am, but older) to help collectors, who did not want to miss the new stuff and artists (who didn’t want them to miss it either).
Then readers of my silly column asked if they could have more funny stuff but not just about dolls’ houses. And The Parrot Has Landed flew down and perched. I was a published child poet, hence Werse. Subsequently intrusive family problems caused the Dementia Diaries, which found readers all round the world, as I shared what I had discovered and what helped, with carers who were trawling the Net for assistance in the wee small hours when the cared-for had finally fallen asleep. Readers have been with me through two broken arms and cancer for the second time, though I sincerely hope this is never misery-lit. I came in with a sense of humour through good times and bad, which might be why you found me now.
Ten years’ worth of reading can be accessed either by scrolling down to the bottom of the page and then clicking on ‘older entries’ or by clicking on the column on the right hand side. There was a shop of my dolls attached and there might be again if the S&H has time to get it going again.
There are a number of regular characters who appear as letters to protect their identities. They are the OH (other half, my husband) the S&H (son and Heir to all my debts) The DIL (daughter-in-law) and I bet you can guess who the GDD and the GDS are; currently, respectively. four and three years old and very bright. The GDS ordered himself a huge toy lorry off the Internet when he was two and a half, first thing his mother knew of it was when it turned up at the front door.
Various people have written to ask why I have not monetised this site. I could put adverts for things all over and the advertiser would pay me to do it. I don’t like sites like that. It drives me nuts when you are reading something on the Internet and a pop-up pops up. Screaming bananas. Do you mind! I was reading that! Nothing comes between me and my reading! Get out of my head! You were not invited!
That will never happen here. This is a site for people who like reading the stuff I write.
In answer to other FAQs, yes I have written novels twice. There was a set of miniature novels the right size for a doll to read. I have a full size comic novel waiting at its third submission currently and I am writing another now.
Yes you can get in touch with me, just click on the link at the bottom of this article. Your communication appears in my email, I usually respond to genuine readers, many of whom have become good distant friends over the years. I usually do not respond in foreign languages, my Internet translation skills are not up to it. Occasionally I get the S&H to translate but so far, every lengthy letter in a language I do not speak has been spam. I only speak a few languages, perhaps I could learn Russian-Over-The Fence from my next door neighbour, who teaches it at the Local University. I used to teach at a language college and understand ‘Pass the eraser, the teacher is not looking’ in many languages.
I post once or twice a week, in the current difficulty I try to post every week day. I didn’t on Friday, I was decorating. Regular readers will know that I have had the builders in for over six months trying to future-proof my house for old age, after seeing how my demented mother struggled with the stairs and how useful it would be to have enough rooms for folk to come and stay the night with their own bathroom.
Therefore I might be the only person you know who would currently welcome a bit of isolation. After half a year of muddy boots tramping through every room, opening the bathroom door to find a man removing the toilet, watching hobnail boots dancing on the flowers and the all-pervasive smell of concrete and plaster dust, endlessly on everything, and all my possessions in heaps on the sofa, on every surface, everywhere, filthy, solitude seems like a dream and a wish. I am still trying to keep the carpenter going a bit longer in another room because he is self-employed and the government can’t help the self-employed until June and I am running out of biscuits.
So welcome new reader to JaneLaverick.com. I’m Jane, pleased to meet you, don’t be a stranger.