I have fluked it a bit, today. I was meant to book a blood test for today or during the next 3 days which means I should have rung the surgery last week.

Needless to say I forgot and it was only because I was looking through my huge National Health pregnant lady’s folder, this morning, to find out what week I was supposed to book my Midwife’s appointment that I realised I was supposed to have it today.

Even so, somebody up there is obviously smiling on me because they had a cancellation for 12 o’clock which means I’m off the hook and despite being CFC* and generally cack I got to have them today, when I was supposed to, anyway! Mwa ha ha haaragh!

This was quite good for me. You see, I’ve been a bit down. I guess partly because I’ve been coming to terms with the fact that I’ve not made any money through my art, not sold any cards and that the shops that have taken them in town - plenty - are not selling them either. That the first novel in my trilogy, though nearly complete, is unlikely to make me the next JK Rowling and that, basically, I’m not going to make millions through any of my artistic talents, allowing my husband to give up his hateful, high stress, 24 hour a day, why won’t the fuckers ever leave us alone? job.

In other words, I can’t produce my cards for the kind of money people are prepared to pay - about £2.50 a pop or at least, not if I want to do it at anything over cost (25p a card). There is a market, I know there is a market because I canvassed a lot of people from all walks, ages and sizes of life and they all said they’d buy them if they saw them for sale. They’re not the famously tight East Anglian in the street, though and the only access I have to them is on-line… so I have 5o packs of Christmas Cards in my local shops, not selling and 200 packs here at home which I am spectacularly failing to sell as well.

Ah…

Worse, not only does every fucker I talk to suggest I submit to Phoenix, who persistently tell me to sod off, but Phoenix works kind of like tupperware, kleeneze or the like in that they don’t sell in shops but through a network of agents who sell their cards at charity bazaars, schools or through coffee mornings at home. The net result being that not only do they not like my designs but when I find out about school fetes, church sales, bazaars etc the lady from Phoenix has always already booked and I am therefore barred on the “we only allow one card seller and it’s the lady from Phoenix” rule. Grrrr! For fuck’s sake!

Then something happens like this morning and I realise that I do have a special kind of luck. Ok, so unlike one of my sisters in-law, I’m not the kind of person who can write a book and meet a publisher at a dinner party the day I finish who thinks it’s so fantastic from my description, alone, that they swear to find me a children’s book deal on the spot - and I never will be that much of a jammy bastard (more’s the pity but I’m feeling this one particularly keenly at the moment having fallen foul bloody Phoenix again, only by a different route).

Then again I am able to sail through life, completely disorganised and inefficient, without nearly as many cock ups as there should be, including a number of things which I forgot about when I was at work which, if they’d turned out the way they should have, would have undoubtedly resulted in my getting the sack long before I was made redundant.

Throughout school, one of the few things I never got into do-do for - and trust me, my mere existence was enough to get me into do-do with many of my teachers - was forgetting to do my homework. Yes, ok so I had untidy handwriting which meant I would never get an A (because at school neatness and presentation is always more important than getting the right answer - just as being tidily dressed allows you to be the shittiest little bully on earth, make the lives of countless others a complete misery and still end up a prefect - not that I’m bitter and twisted or anything oops, put the baggage away BC, where was I? Oh yes…) I could tell the teacher I forgot and they would not only believe me but let it go so long as I did the work in lunch hour or by the next day. This when others would wind up in deepest, darkest poop.

So although I’m feeling a little disheartened because I have had to accept that I’m not going to earn my fortune doing things I’m good at because I’m too shit at selling them, completely lack any market analysis skills and don’t have the kind of luck required, either. Although, I’ve had to accept that my career is never going to be anything more than a hobby and that my priority is going to have to be all the things I loathe but do for love; housework, dusting, cleaning making the place tidy… more to the point, things I’m REALLY super-shit at. In the long run, I’m sure this stealthy, almost unnoticeable jamminess is a useful skill which counts for something…

Mr BC will be stuck in his job until he is 60 and there is nothing I can do to save him, all I can do is offer my crap support and keep up my hobbies of writing and drawing when I have time in the hope they’ll save me from becoming super-boring. The fact I fear this, worry I won’t measure up probably makes me super-selfish… Mr BC clearly has no such worries so at least that’s reassuring.

So… I guess I’ll just put my faith in the amazing properties of stealth jam and hope… oh yes… and tell myself it’ll get easier when I am not pregnant, with my hormones all shook up!

* CFC: Completely Fucking Crap!

Addendum: If you are pregnant, I suspect you will feel your own version of this at some point… I’m sure it’s exactly the same for me as it is for everyone else! If you are pregnant and actually ARE feeling like this right now… well… at least you know you’re not alone.

Despite my failing to convince my local charity contacts to opt for my cards, the gallery manager on the committee did suggest I submit to the local gallery’s Christmas show. I got one in, Frosty the Abominable Snowman which I’d submitted as a print because their size limit was 12″ and I only had works on A4 - 11″ - and over the limit when when you add a mount and frame.

So to my complete delight the first one sold in 20 minutes and since it was a print, number 2 of 10 sold about 5 minutes after that. Wahoo… now I’m thinking prints for sale on Etsy might be the way forward… although so far all I’ve managed to list is my alphabet poster… I’m also hoping to flog cards at a coffee morning next week. It’s in aid of the Cathedral choristers so I think this picture, framed up as a print, might be a good sales bet.

The lady who organises it all is going to phone me back later… apparently, I’m in if the plant lady says no! Fingers and toes crossed that she does!

Still feeling like shit… but happy shit and I find it helps me get going in the morning if I have some biscuits or a piece of toast before I get out of bed. I therefore have a packet of biscuits to hand so I can nibble one before I get up (yeh, decadent or what).

I’m hanging onto the fact this should wear off, too - or at least, reduce.. I’ve had it for about three weeks now, possibly a bit more, so in theory, if I’m at 9 weeks now, I’ve only another three to go before it starts to slacken off. If it doesn’t, I suspect I will get used to it, over time and find better ways to manage it.

Today I didn’t really wake up when Mr BC got up, even the cat found me too boring to pester and left me alone… then, just before leaving for a meeting the sweet man arrives with a tray containing a cup of coffee, a packet of Ryvita and a choice of Marmite, jam and peanut butter to spread on them - all foods I have been craving on and off. He is such a thoughtful kind hearted soul.

I haven’t been doing very well with the eating regimen, either. Being vaguer than most pregnant people as standard, anyway, without being pregnant, the pregnancy head thing has taken my brain by storm and the whole memory game is quite tricky.

I write EVERYTHING down but even so, I often find myself wondering why I have to do the items on the list. For example after the midwife’s visit I had a three point list. Point three was “Call Hospital”. All well and good. I know I need to call them but I can’t, for the life of me, remember why I was supposed to call, which makes ringing them up - and writing the list - a little pointless*.

* Handy hint. If you need to write a to do list, remember to state, in detail, if required, why you need to do the things you need to do.

On the food front, having been regularly putting away large quantities of salami and parma ham, I now find I’m not supposed to eat these uncooked (lysteria). Oops.

Rectifying my errant behaviour I replace the sizeable salami-void by eating more cheese, carefully selecting only those made with pasturised milk. Now I find I’ve got that wrong, too. Yep, the brie I’ve been troughing over the last month is wrong because pasturised milk or not, it’s mould matured, while unpasturised cheese from small producers or from abroad is fine. Yes the truckle of fabulous local chedder I turned down at the farmer’s market yesterday (my favourite and rarer, in manageable sized truckles, than unicorn pooh) would have been fine. How fucking annoying is that?! (s’cuse my French).

Half the time, when I come to buy stuff, or order in a restaurant or well… anything really, I can’t remember what I’m supposed to eat and what I’m not supposed to eat. My brain, like an overfilled sponge will only retain three quarters of my dietary regimen. The minute I recall a foodstuff I’d forgotten about and add it to the banned list, something else falls off the bottom… perhaps this is self preservation. I don’t know.

On the up side, reading up on it on-line I discovered a French woman, living in England who had been told by her doctor that eating soft cheese, for her, would be fine - I think, it was because she would have eaten so much of it, anyway. Well, if that’s the case then what I’ve eaten shouldn’t do any harm, seeing as I am a cheese monster and eat about my own body weight in cheese each week (I’ve always assumed it’s because I drink very little milk).

Yesterday I managed to select the right meal at the right time. We had a pot roast ham joint with baked potatoes. It was so good! A little slice of heaven! Angels tip-toeing over my tongue! I don’t think I’ve enjoyed a meal as much for a long time… washed down with a glass of Vina Ardanza. Blimey that was good!

It also made me think about other stuff. It made me feel for people having these side effects for other reasons, chemo, for example. The positive side, for them, is harder to identify and the sickness is worse than anything I’m experiencing. All this is good news for me, in that the hormones are very active, which means the muffin is probably doing ok.

Actually I’m pretty sure the muffin is doing ok anyway, it’s not communing with me very much but because it’s very busy growing. It’s like our cat, when we got him. He was too scared to sit on our laps or come close but he made it abundantly clear that we belonged to him and he wasn’t going anywhere. It may yet give up or go wrong but its made it’s intention to stick very clear.

That may sound bizarre but I’m pregnant mwa ha haargh! I’m allowed to be a nutter.

Well, time to go, I have to enjoy a quick sleep before I get up - if the cat will let me - then I have to go into town to get some paint to spray the manky old frames I bought at the car boot yesterday red and green. Then I can submit my pictures - yeh, the vetoed Christmas card designs - to the local gallery’s Christmas open show…

Hello there everyone, I’m here with my shameless self promotion/begging for advice hat on, today.

I have done some Christmas card designs and I am thinking of getting them printed up and selling them… I can only afford 60 sets of 8 cards, either with four designs or with two. So… your mission Jim, if you choose to accept it, is to decide which ones you like and tell me in the comments section, below! Yes… I am using and abusing you for market research!

I get so many hits to my art site from the States that I’ve stuck them on Zazzle - I reckon it’d be easier to sell to the States and easier for people living there to buy them from Zazzle. So if any of you over the pond want want to buy some, feel free to go right ahead, for some reason though, if you use this link here to get to my gallery, I get more money… I don’t really quite understand how but there you go.

Anyway, here we go, naturally all cards are © me…

Angels with Sensible Footwear: Because you can’t tell me floating about in the sky in a white robe in all weathers with nothing more than peep-toe sandals on and very possibly no pants wouldn’t be i) draughty and ii) potentially embarrassing on windy days.

Now, now children, don’t play with your food: Because I’m sure Robins like a game of catch the cashew as much as the average human

Puds: Because they can and pudding cards are always boring.

Frosty the Abominable Snowman: Because this is the kind of thing kids actually want to build. I don’t believe I’m the only one…

I have a small irritant. It’s this. The people who buy my paintings keep suggesting I do some greetings card designs and send them to one particular company which is big over here - and very good, too.

Ever one to listen to my customers, moron that I am, I keep taking their advice.

However, the fact is, this greetings card company does not believe my style fits theirs. It’s their company and it’s their call so it doesn’t matter what our mutual customers say. Sigh. Anyhow, as you can imagine, the whole “have you tried _____?” prayer wheel is getting a tad galling. I am wondering if I should have a badge made for hand overs and delivery “___ said NO”.

Would that cut them off at the pass?! Of course not! That would be a totally psycho, strange, wacko and generally ocd thing to do…

Nonetheless… so tempting!

Worse, I get suckered! Every time! And needless to say, after a few months of customer exhortation, I start to think okayyyyy maybe they didn’t really mean “no” maybe they’d like this and despite the screams of “don’t do this!” from the pragmatic, businesswoman’s sensible part of my brain, I do something different.

There is no maybe, of course. They know what sells for them and it ain’t what I do.

I just have to accept that this is the truth and stop sending them things, like a frickin’ idiot. It’s bad for the ego, annoying to them - even though they are always very nice about it - and it makes me look a complete tit.

I guess the difficulty I have is that my card artwork seems to fall in no-man’s land between the company it should fit with - well, in theory - and the rest… I know this is all subjective and I would never sell something (ie my art) I didn’t believe in and wouldn’t expect anyone else to either but the real trouble I have is that as far as I can ascertain my art IS commercial. Amazingly, people actually LIKE it and when offered the opportunity, they DO buy it. Or are all these people are just being nice because I’ve been recommended to them by my friends… I know it’s subjective but I was so hoping I could find somebody who knows the market who thinks they’re commercial, too*, it would be great to be able to sidestep the having to sell these myself aspect of this… I take to selling like a duck to quantuum physics… even things I DO believe in!

*That’s the whole point, of course, I may know marketing but I don’t know their market and they do so it would suggest I’m wrong or that my art is not commercially viable to a wide enough audience.  So there’s some typical beginner arrogance for you! 

Still, I suppose it keeps me focussed. It keeps me drawing things and that keeps my portfolio growing, this stuff might be useful somewhere and if it’s not then drawing it has served its purpose.

You see, up to a point, I reckon art is like writing, you have to practise. So, with writing, I reckon it doesn’t matter what you actually say, even if you are writing about how you can’t think of anything to write it’s practising smithing words which allows you to grow, to find your voice as a writer, to improve and to get to the point where you can write shit hot, witty prose straight off… well, ok um… a bit more quickly.

So, that’s what I try to do with my art, somebody has a birthday, I draw the card. I try to draw something for them, in a style they will like rather than just send them a picture by me. So I’ve just done a pink fairy, so not me as to be laughable! When I’m done, I scan it for my files and send it off. It doesn’t matter if it doesn’t have what it takes to cut it in the commercial industry, it’s a drawing and its execution will have taught me something.

I paint, therefore I am.

…a fairy…

Still… now I have an idea for a fairies series… you know, The Washing Up Fairies, The Chaos Fairies, The Lawkeepers of Temporary Mislayed Items (these are the guys who will give you the thing you were looking for last week when you are looking for the thing you lost today) The Single Shoe Gremlins (the entities responsible for all those single trainers you see at the side of the road) and not forgetting the Two in One out Washing Machine Fairies - (they’re the ones who climb into the washing machine during the cycle and remove one of your husband’s favourite socks… for ever…).

This is how I think and of course, it could go some way to explaining why I have failed to find somebody who considers my work marketable (that and the fact I’m crap at pink fairies because I’m a tomboy). So people, I need your help here. Is the fairies idea too wacko? Would you buy into it? Answers on a post card, please…