Headless

'Could you fix these, Mum,’ said James brightly at breakfast. I was mid-way through a bowl of muesli (whilst dreaming of bacon butties) and nodded vaguely. ‘Sure...hand ‘em over.’
I was on a bit of a high, having made a half-decent job of putting a toe-guard on his new cricket bat. I don’t know quite what I was expecting – some item of clothing that had fallen apart maybe. The Stig’s remote control quad bike having crashed at speed. What I wasn’t expecting was two beheaded birds. Okay, before you barf, they were stuffed toys but still... We Need to Talk About Kevin flashed vividly in front of my eyes followed by a quick scan of Good Therapists I Know.
‘Um, oh dear. Er, what happened?’

What IS it with this household? The terrier, when we lived out on the moor, used to love nothing more than beheading pheasants. Even more bizarrely he would sometimes bury the heads, Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence style. So whenever I see a pheasant, I can’t help thinking about David Bowie.

‘Well, the chirping was getting on my nerves so I took out the mechanism.’

He had a good point there. Those RSPB birds are dead cute but some of them have cheeps as monotonous and irritating as any ring tone. So I spent breakfast reattaching the heads onto a (I think) blue tit and some variety of finch. But the image stayed in my head. My dear late friend Sarah Dening was a Jungian psychotherapist and big on metaphors. I could almost hear her voice in my head.

‘So, Jane, what does this image mean, personally, to you?’

Not difficult is it, really? ‘Headless chicken, Sarah,’ I said (sorry, do you find it odd that I talk to dead friends?). It’s really true. I have been scurrying around so much, I’m dizzy.

So this must needs be short and sweet. But I have to just say a huge heartfelt thank-you to everyone who nominated and voted for me in the Author Blog Awards run by Completely Novel. I was very very chuffed and really very over-excited about the whole affair. Being shortlisted was lovely enough but then the fabulous Linda Jones explained that my blog (yes, this very one) was actually the runner-up. Well, bless my soul.

I’ll be back soon. In the meantime, if you don’t believe I’ve been busy, you can catch my ramblings on my The Lady blog here

See something I wrote for the Telegraph on complementary health here

and, if you want something completely different, you can check out the teen novel I’m writing here

Have I missed anything? Probably. Wish someone would sew my head back on.