Monday, 16 March 2026

A Pastry Break Amid the Chaos...

Oh March, you absolute mofo!

Catherine O'Hara as Moira Rose - a white woman with blonde bobbed hair - is sitting there wafting wet nails and saying, 'Who has time amidst all this chaos?'
Every year it's the same. March is the BUSIEST month. I've just totted it up and there are eight birthdays; birthdays of people I know well enough to send a card and present. Then there are the nights out and catch ups. On top of that, we've had Mother's Day that involved making the post. Plus, what with Easter being early this year (April 5th) there's a bit of prep needed for that too. Finally, and most importantly, it's MY birthday. Hello forty-eight! March is INTENSE.

The thing is, I love it. I like having plans and seeing different people. I like being busy - especially after the cosy hibernation of the new year. This is the time when, having emerged from the Jan/Feb chrysalis, my beautiful butterfly can soar. It just takes organisation. I've currently got March's calendar saved on my desktop. It tells me when I need to have posted cards, when I can fit in time to shop, and when I'm eating out and where. Right now, we're half way through the month and I'm on track so far. Fingers crossed it lasts.

An illustration of a tween girl. She's got olive skin, has brown wavy hair, and is wearing a yellow t shirt under a checked red and white shirt. The expression on her face is quizzical.
Leeza McAuliffe
Writing News
Leeza McAuliffe is Branching Out is complete. I think. The only thing that could change it, is my sister. She was mad busy at the point when I needed beta readers. Now the Easter holidays are imminent, she's got time and is keen to read. I should tell her, 'Nah, it's all done, but thanks anyway,' but the thing is, she's got eyes like a hawk. If there are any remaining typos, missed apostrophes, or general inappropriateness, she'll spot them in an instant. My final draft is locked in, saved as a PDF, and ready to upload. But while I'm waiting for the front cover to be complete, I'll give my sister time to do her thing.

Culture
On Saturday I was at the Royal Albert Hall. Get me! I know what the Royal Albert Hall is because of the Last Night of the Proms. And I know what the Last Night of the Proms is because when I was a kid, I'd get a knitting needle from the bits and bobs drawer and pretend to be the conductor when the orchestra played Rule Britannia. On Saturday night, there wasn't a union jack or string section to be seen on. Nope, it was a live recording of the podcast Off Menu. Loads of laughs, and fab to see Ed Gamble and James Acaster interview Kiell Smith Byone.

Meanwhile, I'm quietly smug about my 2026 reading habit. I'm still averaging a book a week, still trying not to be competitive about it, and still enjoying filling my head with words. I've just read Nick Hornby's Juliet, Naked, and I'm about to reread Camp by LC Rosen.

A white woman with long brown hair is talking to someone at a street food stall. She's holding a paper bag and says, 'I'm in an unhealthy relationship with these almond croissants.'
Who says the perfect gif doesn't exist?
Food and Drink
Despite what I said at the top of the blog, I had two very lazy days in the week. Due to the convergence of my period along with being home alone, there was a chunk of last week that could be poetically entitled 'Wallowing in Pastry.' I couldn't be faffed to cook, didn't have the energy to do much more than read/type in bed, and so any food items needed to be handheld and cold. In related news, aren't almond croissants lovely?* I saw off more than a couple last week and they hit the spot perfectly. Now? I'm cooking for two (not pregnant - just no longer home alone) and I'm post-menstrual. It's back to the veg and the balance of it all.

A brightly lit stage with a visible crowd watching from the audience. Three men stand on it, waving to the crowd. James Acaster, a white man with red hair, Kielle Smith Bynoe, a black man with black hair, and Ed Gamble, a white man with brown hair.
James, Kiell, and Ed at the ROH
Out and About
Yep, I had my second London jaunt within a month. It's just the way it worked out - defo not the norm. Two weeks ago I was catching up with Uni mates and this time I was catching up with my podcast friends. (Ed and James, right?) Beyond that, I had a lovely potter around Highgate Cemetery - it's the most calming place to visit - and ate a fit Sunday roast. Back in Merseyside for the foreseeable now.

Did you have a good International Women's Day? A happy Mother's Day? Have you enjoyed yourself lately? What with my busy-ness, it's easy to forget to enjoy it too. Let's all stop, take a moment to clock the fun, and then keep on having it,
yeah? Yeah.

Have a lovely week, folks.

*I'm now questioning whether croissants are pastry and I don't think they are. They're bready, aren't they? But the flakiness? Bread doesn't do that! Someone check with Mary Berry and get back to me.

Monday, 9 March 2026

Reinventing Spring Cleaning...

Hello March, you beautiful beast! Encourager of daffodils, home to a clock change, month of my birth; in the words of Delia Smith, let's be avin' you.

A cartoon cat is multi-tasking a load of household chores. Hoovering, dusting, and sweeping up. They're are using both hands and a leg.
March is often when the freezing drizzle of winter gets kicked into touch. Shoots emerge from the soil and fresh air and vitamin D perk everyone up. It's also the time when people feel the need to spring clean. They deep clean their house from top to bottom rather than relying on a quick spray of bleach and once round with the hoover. Spring cleaning is definitely a thing. 

It's not, however, something that features in my own life. I don't care enough. A quick spray of bleach and once round with the hoover is more than enough for me. (If that.) In this precious life of finite time, I refuse to waste one second pulling out the contents of drawers and wiping down surfaces that don't get seen. I respect myself too much. Fair play if a deep clean is your bag. Knock yourself out. I just don't feel the need for it in my own life.

That doesn't mean the seasonal change passes me by. Oh no. Spring cleaning as a term can be utilised in all sorts of ways. Forget your cupboards and shelves. Forget cleaning your windows and laundering every bit of bed linen. MY version of a spring clean presents itself in others ways. In no particular order, here they are.

Snoopy - a white dog with black ears - and Woodstock - a small yellow bird - are sitting on top of thy kennel, watching TV. They take it in turns to grab the remote and point it at the TV.
Clean up the Planner
On my TV, under RECORDINGS, there's a mish-mash of content. Some series-linked TV shows with multiple seasons, some one-offs and specials, and some bought content from the Sky Store. I hate how disorganised it is. There should be an option to organise it into files like a desktop but there's not. Instead, I can delete. Delete the stuff I've watched. Delete the stuff I recorded at Christmas that I've not bothered with yet. And delete the build up of series-linked TV. TOTP2 is my personal nemesis. There's loads of them and they build up quickly. Instead of mopping my kitchen floor, cleaning up my planner can bring me joy.

Me, a white woman with brown hair and a blonde fringe, is smiling at the camera. My hair is neatly cut and is shoulder length.
Get a Haircut
I've been meaning to get a haircut since October. Life's been busy and it's just not happened. That's meant that the back of my hair has been the longest it's ever been (down to my bra!) and I've resorted to trimming the front with nail scissors. That ends now. In the fields, sheep are being sheared (probably) and in my own home via my mobile hair stylist, my hair has been cut. It feels great. A literal weight has been lifted. And for those of you who've never had the pleasure, let me tell you. The first time you wash your hair after having a load of it chopped off, is the absolute best. So quick! So easy to rinse! Happy spring!

A white woman with short red hair is standing in a charity shop looking excited. The caption reads, 'Charity shop Sue, 'ere.'
Charity Bag the Lot
Yes, you could definitely eBay that pile of clothes you've allowed to build up. So go on then, eBay them. Or, if you're like me, accept the truth. You're never going to be arsed to take the photos, post the info, and answer questions from randoms about how many centimetres wide the £10 top that you're selling for £2.50 measures from armpit to armpit. Bung it in a charity bag and be done. Last week, I got rid of four bin bags that have been sitting in my bedroom for months. A charity benefits and I have more space. Plus, now's the time to have a look on Vinted for a whole new spring wardrobe. Fun.

Shiv from Succession -a white woman with a red bob - is sitting on a bed. She mimes pressing a key on a keyboard as she says, "Unsubscribe."
Unsubscribe 
I bought a White Fox hoody for my niece in Christmas 2024. I'd never heard of the brand before and I've never bought anything since. However, for a good six months afterwards, they were kind enough to email me every morning to let me know they had other products to sell. They are not alone. I reckon I spend my first ten minutes of every morning deleting the email spam that's been sent overnight. Recently, I made a decision. I spent a similar amount of time scrolling to the bottom of each unwanted email and simply clicked the unsubscribe button. Genius, right? It felt far more satisfying than scrubbing burnt cheese off baking trays (insert more accurate spring cleaning chore here. I'm running out of ideas.)

A close up of a tattoo needle inking someone's skin. The tattoo looks like it's going to be a colourful butterfly.
Make a Change
It's been eleven years since my last tattoo. I have four, they're not all small, but they're discrete. With the new book coming soon and the gust of fresh spring air about the place, my tattoo tingles have started up again. Right now, I'm working it around my head. I've got ideas and I know where I'm going to get it done, but the final details are still to iron out. A change is as good as a rest, or something. Sod your dusting, polishing, and ironing, and get a tat instead!

Look, it's not up to me to dictate how you spend your time. You want to scrub, buff, and wipe? Be my guest. For me, however, I'm spring cleaning in my own way. Along with lovely walks, reading more than ever, and knowing the book I've worked on for two years is on its way, I'm cleaning out the old and ushering in the new. I just don't need to be wearing Marigold gloves as I do it.

Have a lovely week, folks.

Monday, 2 March 2026

Time Will Tell...

Greetings from the past! I'm writing this last Thursday, four whole days before it's available for your reading pleasure. How've you been?

A white woman with blonde hair and round glasses is talking flippantly and saying, 'The past is the past.'
Usually I'm much more up-to-date. I write this blog over the weekend before posting it on Monday. However this weekend - the one I'm about to have and the one you've just finished - is choc full of plans. I won't be able to write about the week just gone in time for the Monday deadline. That means I'm sitting here on Thursday morning, still living your last week and with no clue how it'll pan out. I don't know, for example, who won the Gorton and Denton by-election, I don't know how Connor Storrie did on SNL, and I have no idea how my Uni mates catch-up went on Saturday night. 

Actually, you know what? I know exactly how that went. Thirty years ago I met two guys in my first days in Northampton who became my pals. We're crap at keeping in touch but when we finally get our shit together (every couple of years or so) it's the best. I know now, days before it starts, that I had a blast last weekend.

An illustration of a tween girl. She's white, with wavy brown hair, a yellow t shirt and red, white, and blue checked shirt, and has a quizzical look on her dace.
Leeza McAuliffe
Writing News
My ego was thoroughly nourished this week. I had tea with my goddaughter who had received a typo-riddled advanced copy of the new book from me for Christmas. To my absolute delight, she was keen to talk about it at length. The actual thrill of it! We chatted about the plot, the characters, and I bounced ideas off her about the next book's direction. All in all, I had the best conversation whilst struggling to hide my overwhelmingly smug pride. 

The character of Matilda from the 1992 film - a white girl with brown hair - is reading a book in an arm chair, and giggling to herself.
Culture
I'm on a reading high right now. Since January started, I've had a book on the go consistently. This is marvellous. When I'm writing my own drafts, I tend to avoid immersing myself in other people's words. When I'm mostly done, I can return to the comfort of curling up with a novel. 

Right now, I'm reading Hamnet - which is beautiful but I know where it's going (I should've read it before the film) and I'm reading Rocket to the Past: Rainhill which is properly grippy but I've no idea where it's going. That's a real thrill right there. I'm half way through and I can't wait to box off today's jobs to get back to the story and find out. Also, in keeping with the theme of this post, time travel plays a significant part of the story. Boss. The joy of letting someone else think of the stories, can't be underestimated. Aren't books great?!

Me - a white woman - standing. on a windy beach side path, wearing a hoody pulled over a black beanie hat, which has red headphones over it. Only my face is exposed, and I'm smiling while wearing chunky black glasses.
If I eat a load of
shite then early
morning walks
feel like wading
through treacle.
Am I entering my
salad era?
Food and Drink
Tomorrow night (that's last Friday to you) I'm going out with friends for a birthday meal at Botanico in Woolton. Here's the thing. I've already looked at the menu. Right now, I'm planning to order the halloumi and beetroot salad. It sounds gorge as well as being reasonably healthy. I'm at the point in life where if I eat a load of shite, I find that it makes me feel - you guessed it - a load of shite. Obviously time will tell if I stick to my plan. The four cheese gnocchi, also featured on the menu, might tempt me with its wily ways.

Out and About
By the time you read this, I'll have had a weekend in London. When I was at Uni, it took an age to get from Liverpool to London. These days it's two hours. How fab is that? Two hours away from meeting up with friends, having lovely food and drink, all soundtracked by a shit tonne of laughs. Even though it's not happened yet, I know it was brilliant.

Have a lovely week, folks.

Monday, 23 February 2026

Who AM I?

Brace yourselves but I did something spontaneous. Woohoo! Mere weeks after reflecting on my need for thinking time and build up, I made a quick decision. 

A black man wearing a black shirt is walking towards someone just off camera to the side. He says, 'So the lady likes adventure.'
Steady now
Last Monday, I looked at my diary for the week ahead and saw it was empty. I'm currently waiting for people to get back to me, so book wise, I'm in limbo. Plus, it was half term and my sisters with kids were all over the family WhatsApp doing stuff. I wanted to do stuff too. What about me?! Wha wha wha, boo hoo!

Fast forward to a couple of days later and I arrived at one of my happy places. I hit Aberystwyth for a few days of bleakly beautiful beachy fun and had a marvellous time. Who am I?

Is there a lesson to learn here? In hindsight, I don't think so. This isn't the start of a whole new me. A me that throws a bag into the boot and heads off on adventures willy nilly. Nah, it's not that simple. But, if in the future, the serendipitous event of cancelled plans, waiting on book stuff, the good time in my menstrual cycle, and spare rooms in affordable accommodation simultaneously occur once again, I'll happily consider another last minute break.

A book shelf filled with paperback novels. In the centre of the shelf is a pale brown spine. The book is called Carry the Beautiful and is by me, Nicky Bond.
Writing News
Something fab happened. My sister-in-law sent me a photo. She'd taken it in her local book swap shop - about half an hour away from where I live. I've added it here to see if you can spot it. Can you? Can you SEE? Among all the other books on the shelf was my very first novel. Carry the Beautiful had been spotted IN THE WILD.

I loved seeing that photo. It's rare that I hear of anyone reading/buying the book that isn't directly linked to me. Family, friends, and friends of friends is as far a reach as I know. But now, in a place I don't live, there's a copy of my book on a shelf that has the potential to be picked up by anyone. EXCITING.

Two ice hockey teams, one in red tops, the other in black, are coming off the ice after a match. Their captains are fist bumping them as they pass and saying, 'I love you' to each one.
The fictional hockey players 
who made me watch the real ones.
Culture
It was always going to happen. You can't devour Heated Rivalry - the Queer love story set in the world of ice hockey - without actually giving a shit about the subsequent Winter Olympic ice hockey being broadcast a few weeks later. 

1984 - the last time I remember
caring about winter sports.
For many people, this wouldn't be weird. Many people actively look forward to the Olympics - winter AND summer - and wouldn't see anything odd about my interest in it. I am not many people. You see, I hate the Olympics. Sorry (genuinely! Sorry to the people who love it and are gutted it's over ) but I find wall to wall coverage of sports I don't know, dull. Yeah, I said it. I never bother with any of it, and apart from happy childhood memories of Torvill and Dean (we all recreated Bolero in our ballet leotards, right) I've never bothered since. 

Until now. Every day I've found myself checking the schedules for the ice hockey, pressing the red button, and getting thoroughly behind Team Canada. I've read the rules, followed the NHL on Insta, and can recognise and name at least four whole players. I know what a power play is, that the goalie is called the goaltender, and that a clean sheet is called a shutout. Once again, who am I? 2026 has ushered in a whole new me! Yesterday's final between Canada and USA was a real nailbiter. Commiserations to Canada, who were pipped by the USA in overtime. You were an absolute pleasure to watch.

Me - a white woman with a blonde fringe and brunette hair, is wearing a black and beige stripy top, and holding a glass of white wine to my mouth. Behind me, are shelves with lots of wine bottle.s
Food and Drink
It's unfortunate when your favourite tapas place is a three hour drive from your home but this is something I live with daily. 

Ultracomida is a deli in Aber with a little restaurant at the back. It's cosy but chatty, and serves beautiful food and the best wine. I manage to visit maybe once a year. What's great is that, despite the student nature of the workforce with staff changing with every visit, everyone knows their stuff. They're knowledgeable about wine, can make decent recommendations, and the occasionally changing menu is always delicious. Anyway, I had a lovely meal and I'll be back next time.

A cold looking seashore. The waves are white and frothy and gathering momentum.
Bracing!
Out and About 
While I was away, I did a couple of seafront walks. The weather is what can only be described as bracing. I also spent a happy afternoon in the Pier Amusements playing shuffleboard. I lost, natch, but enjoyed playing a game where energetic movement is not required. (I enjoy darts and archery for the same reason.) 

This week, my diary is not empty. I've got stuff to do and can hopefully move forward with the book. Do you remember the title? Leeza McAuliffe is Branching Out. Say it. Roll it over your tongue. Now commit it to memory. Soon, I'll be asking you to pre-order it and I don't want it to be a surprise when that happens. 

Have a lovely week, folks.

Monday, 16 February 2026

Branch Out With Me...

Welcome to February's Long Ramble! Yes, we're ditching the weekly update format and getting in deep. Do you think you can cope? It's gonna be INTENSE.

Claudia Winkleman - a white woman with a thick heavy brunette fringe - is saying to someone, 'Brace yourself.'
You see, lovely Readers, the time has come. After months of chewing it over, of second guessing myself, and market researching the whole thing, I've done it. I've finally come up with the goods. My new book has a title!

You may have heard me mention this before. Writing the book is the easy part; coming up with the title is a nightmare. My first ideas are never right. They might get used - for months - as the file name on the draft but they never make it to the front cover. Isn't it interesting? My first thoughts are always wrong. There's a life lesson in that. Except I also think that 'trust your gut' is the best advice for any situation so what do I know? I'm a complicated woman.

A book cover. The title is Leeza McAuliffe Has Something To Say and it's by Nicky Bond. In the middle, there's a girl holding a diary and pen.
  Book 2
For nerds who want the full picture, check out the blogs below*. Each time I've written a book, I've written about the naming process. It's never easy. There are lists, there are multiple stupid ideas, and many Google searches for synonyms of words that mean what I want but don't sound right. Anything to try and nail the concept. It's so hard. 

Some people have the natural ability of wordplay. They delight in the fun of the pithy, the snap of a zinger, the punch of the perfect caption. I love that for them. It's just not me. I'm all about the sentences and the paragraphs. I like to build up layers and create effects over time. To try and distill the essence of 60,000 words into one short phrase is challenging to say the least.

A book cover. The title is Assembling the Wingpeople and it's by Nicky Bond. In the middle, there's the grey plastic frame of an airfix model waiting to be built. The pieces are limbs, heads, and torsos of a man and a woman.
Book 3
You may remember, I talked to my friends about it. There was a week last year when I saw three separate groups of mates a few days apart. (A social whirl!) I happened to tell each friendship group that I was struggling with the title and in each case, the people rallied round. Suggestions got shouted out willy nilly and two separate friends continued to message me ideas the next day. What a bit of luck that was. Because that's when it happened, you see. That's when I got my title.

So, let me tell you what I told my mates. They hadn't read the book so needed a bit of context to get in the zone. I explained that in the new story, Leeza McAuliffe is beginning to experience life. She has her first holiday abroad, her first crush, and she finds out there are some family secrets to investigate.  She has questions about her family tree and its gaps and empty branches. All of this is done with her best friend Jake by her side. 

That's the vague blurb. Not the actual blurb of course, because that's another bit of pithy writing that I'm still working on. Anyway, that's what my friends were told last year. And now this is where I need to credit the woman who finally nailed it. Thank you to Clair! Primary teacher extraordinaire, mother of teens, and absolutely riddled with common sense and clarity. She messaged the day after our mates' gathering to add more ideas to the mix and one of them was...

Drum roll, please...

MORE DRUMS... Please, do build the tension in your head...

Ready? OK, the new title of the next Leeza McAuliffe book is...

LEEZA MCAULIFFE IS BRANCHING OUT

That's it. That's the title. What do you think? Pithy? Does it roll off the tongue? Are you IN? 

It felt important to step away from the Leeza McAuliffe Has Something/Loads More to Say format. If this series is going to progress, I don't want to be constrained by the title structure. I needed to branch out. (See what I did there!) There's also the nice double meaning. Leeza has empty branches on her family tree and wants to know who should be there. She's also pushing herself to branch out of her comfort zone. Isn't Clair clever! Three cheers for Clair! (No really, I'm not being flippant. I mean it. She totally did me a solid.)

A white brunette woman is sitting on a sofa, leaning forward and saying to someone, 'Trust your gut instinct.'
I also wasn't being flippant when I said that writing the book was easy. It's the easiest part of the process. The stuff now - BIC codes, Neilsen registration, the eventual marketing when I have a publishing date - is well out of my comfort zone. But as we know, my first ideas are always wrong. I'm going to ignore those thoughts and go with my gut. Because my gut says that I've done this before so I can do it again. My gut needs listening to. And with that thought firmly in mind, I'm going to get some toast. 

Have a lovely week, folks.


*Here are the blogs that announce the previous four book titles. Enjoy!



Monday, 9 February 2026

Hello Perkiness, My Old Friend...

I've got it! After weeks of quiet, cosy, indoor living, I've finally found a spring in my step. February has arrived, and with it, my desire to be... well to BE. There's a big world out there and I want to be a part of it. Exciting times!

A tiny cat pokes its head out from under the cover.
So how did this perky new vibe manifest itself last week? Well, read on. At first, it might seem there's not much difference from previous weeks. That's OK. I don't want to frighten the horses. Just know that as you catch up on my writing news and the rest of it, I'm simply brimming with energy!

A book cover. The title is Leeza McAuliffe Has Something To Say, and is displayed in a speech bubble coming out of illustrated Leeza's mouth. The author is Nicky Bond.
Book 1.
Book 3 is almost here
.
Writing 
The final piece of feedback has arrived, tweaks have been made, and so the new Leeza McAuliffe book is done. I say done, and I mostly mean it, but I've still got to do the final read through. That means printing it off, dragging a ruler under every single line, and reading the whole thing aloud. It's the surest way to catch every mistake or spacing error. It also takes ages and is as finicky and precise as a bomb disposal expert. (I'm guessing!) That's the job for this week. In related news, I've seen the initial sketches for the front cover and I'm THRILLED. More soon.

Culture
I'm pausing my devourment of the Game Changers ice hockey series to read Hamnet. Yep, after raving about the film, a friend has lent me the book. This means I now feel obliged to read it ASAP, before it sits on my coffee table for months and I forget it's not an ornament. (This has been the way with many loaned books before it. At some point, my partner will silently move them to the bookshelf and I forget that they weren't mine to begin with.) So, onwards with Hamnet. I cannot inadvertently steal another one. 

Six women on stage, in glittery period costume, singing as though they're in a girl band.
SIX - utter joy!
Then on Wednesday, I saw the musical, SIX. What a riot! I loved it. Historically fascinating but with banging tunes. I walked out of the theatre FULL of beans. In other news, I've been watching films for series two of the our podcast, Lights, Camera, Aggro. This week I had the absolute chore of rewatching Before Sunrise. Ha, JOKING. My actual goddamn heart. Sigh.

A white bowl with a pile of cream-coloured mashed potato. On top of that, is a brown mess of sausages, apple chunks, and onions. to the side is a pile of bright green leaves.
Food and Drink
We know by now I'm not a food photographer, yeah? Good, just checking. Anyway, a few weeks ago, Angela Hartnett cooked Tim Key a meal on her podcast Dish. I copied/adapted that meal and I present it to you now. Sausages and apple, served over mash with cavolo nero. The recipe is via the link but my version had half stock, half Guinness. Either way, fit!

Out and About
I've found a new podcast. Sentimental Garbage was recommended by Rach who does my nails, and it's RIGHT up my street. Each episode deals with a different cultural/creative phenomenon, from Sex and the City to Little Women, to Nora Ephron... there's something for everyone. But why is this being shared in the Out and About section, Nicky? I hear no one shout. Well, it's the reason I've been out for a bunch of walks recently. Knowing I have the next episode to plug into my ears, has made striding down Crosby seafront so much more palatable. Fresh air and cultural commentary - a winning combo that fills me with all the good vibes. Aren't I lucky.

It's a chicken and egg situation. Am I perky because I've been out more this week, or have I been out more this week because I'm perky? In the end, it doesn't matter. The older I get, the more I love the seasonal fluctuations of my mood. January is for chilling and cosying up, February is for poking my head out of the covers and emerging. I hope your own rhythms are as reliable and reassuring, whatever they may be.

Have a lovely week, folks.

Monday, 2 February 2026

Overthink the Day...

This week I've been pondering delayed gratification. You too? No? Fair enough.

A blonde white woman with black rimmed glasses is speaking to someone off camera. She taps her head and the caption reads, 'You've got a lot going on up in there, don't ya.'
I'm not impulsive by nature. I like to ponder, plan, and then plan some more. People who make snap decisions terrify me. Well, let's be clear. If their behaviour doesn't affect me, then they're hugely impressive. They're grasping life and taking it by the scruff of the neck while I'm still weighing up the pros and cons. When their decisions DO affect me, however, then I'm not on board. I need to stew, to ruminate, and to wallow. Then I know I'm ready to act.

Eventually, after lots of thought, the pay off arrives. The decision is made, the action can happen, and the day can finally be seized. That's what I've been thinking about this week. Whether it's Writing News, the Culture section, or the research I'm doing in Out and About, the long game is how I like it. But read on, because in some areas, the delay is nearly over. It's almost time for some lovely gratification!

Book 2
Book 3 coming soon!
Writing News
It's almost seventeen months since the conception of the new Leeza McAuliffe book. It was August 2024 when I sat down with a notebook and spewed out random ideas for what might happen next. Time flies! Since then, there's been multiple drafts, a variety of beta readers, one editor, a sensitivity reader, and countless queries to my twelve year old niece about high school life. Despite the comings and goings, one thing remains. I love these characters. I love when other people love them. I can't wait to share them with the world and I'm hoping to do that soon.

A white man in a baseball cap, is standing behind the counter of a diner. He looks up and raises a hand in a wave. His face remains unchanged but he looks intent.
I'm gearing up to leave
Luke's Diner. Wish me luck. 

 
Culture
On Friday night, my Gilmore Girls rewatch came to an end. Sob. What can I say, it'll be a massive wrench to leave these characters behind. I started in mid-November and with only a brief break for Christmas movies, I've watched every day. Thoughts and prayers as I say goodbye to the loveliest town with the quirkiest people. It's been a joy and I'm not ready for you to go.

Catherine O'Hara as Moira Rose in Schitts Creek is a white woman with blonde hair. She's wearing a white blouse with black ribbon tied around the neck. The caption says she is saying, 'Let us celebrate that.'
In more Friday night news, it was announced that Catherine O'Hara had died. That someone so comedically cool could do something as mundane as die, is a real head-scratcher. I love her work and the fact it's there to be enjoyed forever, is the silver lining on a particularly crappy cloud. I often use Schitt's Creek gifs on this blog - they tend to provide something for every eventuality -  but they'll have an added layer of poignancy from now on.

Two ice hockey players skate towards each other and embrace in a post-goal celebration. One player plants a kiss on the helmet of there other. Both are smiling and happy.
And in even MORE Canadian news (Catherine O'Hara was Canadian, gang!) I'm racing through the Game Changers books series by Rachel Reid. Despite having watched the TV show first, they enlarge upon the characters so much that it's no bother to cover old ground. In fact, they're utterly addictive and have convinced me that I'm now an ice hockey expert. It's a funny old world.

A white plate with a glass bowl on top. The bowl contains vanilla ice cream. Next to the bowl are two shot glasses. One has an amber liquid, the other a dark brown. On the plate there is a chunky shortbread biscuit.
Food and Drink
I've no sweet tooth and rarely bother with dessert but there are a couple of options that'll get ordered every time. Pistachio ice cream for one. There's never a time when I don't want to eat it. That's just how it goes. The other dessert I can't ignore is affogato. Cold ice cream, hot espresso, served with a shot of amaretto. Classy but easy peasy. It was the pudding for my Burns Night meal with the added Scottish short bread doing the cultural heavy lifting. It tasted fab and reminded me that coffee, amaretto, and ice cream are decent ingredients to have on hand.

Out and About
I visited my brother's new flat. In my capacity as furniture shifter, I got a sneak peak last week and it's lovely. It reminded me how much I enjoyed city centre living, how beautiful a skyline can be when filled with lights in the dark, and how soft low lighting can create the loveliest of ambiences. I'm now looking at my own lamps in exasperation. 

A white woman. with brown hair is holding a bunch of papers up the camera and with a frustrated face says, 'I have done the research.'
Aside from that, I finished booking my holiday. Later this year I'll be out and about for real. For now, I'm exploring Visit Canada sites and getting excited about knowing a new North American city. It seems consuming Canadian stories and thinking about Canadian comedy legends has been somewhat influential. 

Planning, pondering, weighing up options - the anticipation of a trip is the best. I've got months of overthinking to do. Months of learning about metro systems and train time tables, climate temperatures and hockey fixtures, places to eat and must see attractions. A late availability deal could never hope to compete with all that fun.

Whether you're seizing the day, or making notes about the day for when you're ready for that day to arrive, do whatever works for you. That's the most important thing, right?

Have a lovely week, folks.