Monday, 16 December 2013

Happy Birthday Manic Mondays!

Happy Birthday to you....!

It was a very proud lady who went to Candy Jar offices on Thursday last week to sign her first books! I wasn't sure what to write! So I wrote 'lots of love', and 'Happy Manic Mondays', and 'I hope your Mondays are merry and bright' (well it is nearly Christmas!). On Saturday I signed more books at a Christmas Fayre, and this time I asked people how they liked their Mondays before signing. Funnily, most people said 'off work'.
It is lovely to see my book next to Eileen Younghusband's - the most amazingly dynamic and talented 93 year old I have met!
Happy Birthday Manic Mondays! Party and cake in the New Year!

Monday, 9 December 2013

More Manic Mondays in December

Manic Mondays is Published

This week the Manic Mondays manuscript that has been batted back and forth more than an Olympic tennis ball will finally be in the hands of its creator, What an amazing prospect it is. Some of you may have chosen to do the 'have a child' route in life, and others may have chosen otherwise. For me, waiting to see the manuscript that has existed on A4 pages, finally born as a book, is literally like waiting for the birth of one of my children - exciting, scary, concerning, impatient.

If Catherine Blake herself had had anything so full of emotional investment to deal with, then guaranteed she would have been supported by her best new buddies - Steve the handsome pilot bachelor, Grace her young unmarried neighbour with two children, Annie her purple-haired hippy friend, and the unavailable man in the background - Mike Stone. And I forgot to mention Neville.

Dive into Manic Mondays and find that Monday really can be a new beginning....

Monday, 2 December 2013

Manic December Mondays

The First Monday in December

Monday, the beginning of December and it’s brrr in the UK. Husbands and really tall sons all over the country are either being, or have been, successfully nagged to ‘please get the decorations out of the loft’, and some actually engage in the ‘putting up’ of the shiny little blighters all round the house.

For the next month, Monday will dawn more manically than usual as you awake to a blaze of Monday morning glitter and Christmassy bling, and bright flashing lights meet you as you make your way bleary-eyed around the house, wondering where all normality and sanity has disappeared to. You will search for the kettle lost amongst the rest of the shine in an attempt to calm the building excitement of the Christmas season.

Catherine Blake wasn’t really in the mood for her first Christmas alone, but she rallied her energies and made an effort for her daughter. When her friends came round for her Christmas party bash they laughed their Santa socks off when they saw what she had precariously balanced on top of her B&Q Christmas tree.

Want to find out what it was? Manic Mondays...the novel...

Monday, 25 November 2013


A Time for new beginnings...

Manic Mondays is about endings and new beginnings, and what better theme for new beginnings than the beginning of the week itself - Monday. Each day, each week and each year is yet to be written in the lives of every one of us. Monday heralds the end of the weekend, which most of us lament, but it also brings the opportunity of a brand new week.

Start your week like Catherine Blake has...'once upon time...'. The great thing about your lives is that you are the protagonist and you can write your own plot with your own characters. There may be twists and turns that take you by surprise, but you can turn the plot around. If Catherine Blake can, so too can you.

Manic Mondays are great Mondays because they represent and downs...twists and turns...have a great day - I didn't say a smooth-running day!

Loves, Michaela x

Monday, 11 November 2013

Manic Mondays

Another Monday Morning....

Catherine Blake has a thing about Mondays, and whether we love them or hate them, we can't ignore Mondays! For some it's a mad screaming dash to the school gates, for others back to work to catch up on weekend gossip. For me this morning, it was the dreaded lost wallet and a missed bus!!

In case you missed it, here is the promotional DVD for Manic Mondays! Please tell your friends, family and colleagues about Manic Mondays!!

I had no idea the editing process was so involved, and it won't be long now!! Candy Jar staff have been brilliant. x

Monday, 4 November 2013

A Monday in November

Manic Mondays is coming soon...

Manic Mondays is in the last stages of editing, getting an ISBN and back cover design. You can still pre-order ahead of printing from!

Here is a mini extract

One dark, cold morning she decided that it was time she

took a more positive view of the world, and made a list of

all the good things in her life, it was better than sitting staring

at a sleeping toddler all morning. She put the list on a

notice-board in the kitchen, and made herself read it every

time she went in there. The list read:

Things to Feel Happy About
1. I have a lovely baby who loves me
2. 36 isn't old
3. I am still quite a catch - even with baggage
4. I am well-qualified  - I can get my career back on track
5. I have made some new friends
6. My parents ring me every single day!!
7. I haven't succumbed to vast quantities of wine/chocolate

Every time she walked into the kitchen Caz looked at

the list. She was aware that the list had quite a lot missing

and she had been desperate for things to add by the time she

got to the last point. All the things that most people spend

their lives working for like houses, husbands, careers, were

missing: she missed them.

During the weeks since she’d last seen him, Caz tried to

contact Steve but kept getting his answer machine. She

thought how unlike him it was not to reply to her messages.

In the few weeks since they’d been living in the city, Caz

had spoken to Steve on the telephone at least two or three

times each week. She assumed that he was busy with work

and must have a series of stop-overs on his flying roster, or

maybe his simulator assessment had overrun. Caz knew that

she shouldn’t be so concerned. Steve was a free agent and

had a life of his own. He had, after all, been managing quite

well without her for the last ten years.

Caz tried to occupy herself with things to do. She went

next door to invite Grace round for a coffee but was greeted

by a face-full of chicken pox, behind a grubby tea towel.

Annie was away on an annual convention with Oxfam for

ten days, and Caz didn’t know anybody else within one

hundred miles. She sat up straight in her armchair that had

become her refuge and decided that it was time Catherine

Blake made a comeback. She drew up a plan for action – a battle plan

Plan A

1. Get a job – anything will do for now -

objectives: a) some money, b) something to do, c)

meet people

2. Have time to myself – objectives: a) not to

go crazy in house, b) have break from Teletubbies,

c) give Maddy a break from stir crazy mother!

3. Meet people and socialise – objectives: a) go

out at least once each week (once a fortnight

minimum), b) try to have some fun, c) meet more


4. Be happy in my own company – objectives:

a) spend one night alone without crying, b) try not

to hyperventilate at the prospect of spending a

weekend alone with Madeleine.

5. Get a man – objectives: not quite sure, but

seems like a good idea!

Caz hung Plan A on the wall next to her List of Things

to Feel Happy About.....





Monday, 28 October 2013

All About Manic Mondays

Here is the promotional video

This is the superbly edited video interview from Candy Jar. Please be kind - it is my first ever interview! 

Have a great start to the week - It's just another Manic Monday!

If you have any questions about Manic Mondays please get in touch. Just leave a comment here, and I will respond, or contact me through my facebook page

There are still a few first edition copies available, so place your order now!

Thank you!

Monday, 21 October 2013

A Short Story - Part 2

Time and Tide Continued...

His life jacket broke his fall, as did the sinking sand beneath his feet. John dragged himself upright, and waded forward. The water a few steps ahead was waist height with the channel still ahead. A gust of wind and an error of judgement pulled the bow rope from his hands, and the boat was away; flying across the water without his weight to hold it back, and it was gone. ‘Bugger!’  John teetered in the sand and water, still with no one to see him from the top road, or from either river bank, or from the beach a few hundred yards away.

It was no more than twenty yards to the other side of the channel, so John decided he would swim. He was calm, he was in control, just tired was all, a bit weaker than usual. But he was confident. He’d got himself out of a few holes in his time, and this was just another one of those. Like the time he was in a sailing race and put his feet under the foot strap to lean further out, only there wasn’t a strap there, and he capsized. His mates had enjoyed that tale for the whole season. If it were now it would have been captured on YouTube, or the club’s web site. He smiled at the memory as he waded further into the murky choppy water, and then his underfoot was free and he was swimming. Only it wasn’t quite swimming, it was more a desperate squabble toward the other side of the river, as John realised that this was too much for him, and that he should have listened to his wife this morning. He realised that he should have listened to her when he was up on the roof at 6am two days ago building something, and that maybe when she said the steroids were affecting his logic, maybe she was right. He swallowed and spat the salty, muddy water as with ever diminishing strength he struggled fearfully across the water all the while being carried by the tide and buffeted by the wind. He felt the pain now in his limbs and weakened stomach, and after, he didn’t know how long, John felt rather than saw the slimy mud bank of the other side of the river.  It was squishy and gooey beneath his slipping feet. His tears cleared and he saw that he had made it to the other bank, and he knew there was a road which led home at the other side of the mud flats. The mud flats were not the place to walk, the mud deep, and the gullies were filled with the incoming tide.

Exhaustion claimed John, and his decision-making prowess was circling elsewhere with the seagulls. If there had been an observer it would have been a sorry sight that they would have met them as John’s thin form crawled through the mud to safety with cuts on his hands and face, and tears streaking his drawn cheeks.

John collapsed onto the road, and managed to pull himself into a sitting position when a young man in a tractor stopped to pick him up and took him home.

His wife was standing by the window watching the river race by when the tractor pulled up outside the house, and she sighed heavily when she saw a young man help her shattered husband from the cab. She slowly walked down the drive to meet him, and put her arm around his wet and muddy body to offer her support. As they walked up the drive to the house John half turned to her, leaning in to her, and said, ’I think the water’s a bit stronger than it used to be.’ She patted him gently on the back, as the tide slipped in, and said, ’I know love, I know. Let’s get you clean and warm shall we?’
Have a great Monday everyone! x




Sunday, 20 October 2013

A Short Story

Time and Tide

Here is first half of a short Monday story inspired by my rather determined father!

The river was dark that Monday morning, the tide low and shortly to turn, and the wind brisker than the forecast had suggested. Regardless of the weather he was determined. ‘I need to get the boat back for winter,’ he’d virtually shouted at her in response to her doubt. It was the way he emphasised need, like his life depended on it. He ranted on, ending with ‘Don’t nag me!’ She knew she was wasting her breath even trying to dissuade him; he always did what he wanted to anyway. He was one of those people who could and would justify anything. After ten minutes in his company you would leave thinking that there were genuine advantages to sleeping on a bed of thorns.  There was no point arguing. ‘Oh sod you then!’ she said, walking away.

He waved his lift goodbye and turned toward where the boat was kept, with a contented whistle on his breath. The breeze jostled the halliards on the sailing boats as they applauded his passage amongst them, and he found the little tender upended against the fence with the oars safely where he left them a few months earlier. He had been captain of the boat club for a long time; organising the races, charting the courses that sometimes took them out to sea and round the island, and other times led them howling round the markers in the estuary. He knew the estuary well, every tide, every marker, every swell and change in the seasonal sand banks. Had anyone been watching, it would have looked perfectly right seeing John sorting out his little boat on the river bank. But today the club was deserted, the season had ended and the boats were snugly wrapped up against the pending winter.

John dragged the boat to the water’s edge, puffing under the strain, and feeling strong and able despite its weight. He stopped to catch his breath as the sun broke through the racing clouds, and he lifted his fact to capture its warmth. He smiled a rare smile. He pushed the boat onto the water and jumped on board as it left the shore wobbling under his weight and the choppy waves beneath. John sat back with the oars ready and begun the slow steady motion he knew of old, pulling through the water on the backward motion, releasing the oars to fly through the air on the forward motion; pull, release; pull, release as the boat made its way out. John was pleased that he had calculated the tide change perfectly, and the incoming tide, despite the opposing wind was helping his journey. The sandbanks, he noted, were now nearly all covered as he journeyed across the river estuary at its widest point all the while heading for home.

For twenty minutes John rowed, and was surprised at his lack of progress. The tide wasn’t running as fast as it would in another hour and the wind in the middle of the river was stronger than it was at the shore. He was skimming across the tops of the sandbanks, but only just, and the boat’s progress was jerky as it stuck and released from the river bed.

Something didn’t feel quite right to John - the wind, the lack of progress, the middle of the river, and sandbanks. He brushed the feeling aside. There was not a soul in sight, just John and his belligerent determination, and a solitude that was beginning not to feel like the good kind. He knew the river, he knew its ways, he was a pro. John took a deep breath, and he relaxed himself. ‘Make a decision,’ he thought, ‘make a decision’. He begun to head directly across the river to the other side and decided he would make his way up river from there. The wind would be less strong, and he would be on the home side of the river. ‘Just to be on the safe side,’ he said to himself.

For ten further minutes he rowed through the tide and the wind heading for the other bank; slow minutes weighted with effort, as he wiped the perspiration with the back of his hand. He noticed that the boat was starting to take on water; it was a small boat; he was not a small man, and the water was lapping over the sternum. A tender is meant for getting from the shore to a larger boat that is moored further out, not for a mile long row down a choppy river. John should have known that; he was experienced in the ways of the river. He reached for the bailer and started throwing the water back where it came from, ‘Bugger’ he muttered under his breath clearing enough water to make progress again. John was the capable sort, a man to be relied on in a crisis – and he knew it. You’d get John’s opinion if you wanted it or not, and he would solve problems for you you didn’t even know you had.

When the boat ran aground John felt his strength properly diminish for the first time; he was weakening. He needed to get to the shore quickly so he decided that he would get out of the boat and wade, pulling the boat across the sand banks to the other side; his progress would be quicker he knew, and his decision made perfect sense. The tide was still low, so the main channel should be low as well. It was an area of the river difficult to navigate if you didn’t know it; very shallow in places at low tide with islands of sandbanks the larger boats could not easily negotiate. The channel was marked clearly with buoys guiding the way.
John slipped from the side of the boat, and hit the icy water losing his balance. His life jacket broke his fall, as did the sinking sand beneath his feet. John dragged himself upright, and waded forward.

To be continued tomorrow....

Monday, 14 October 2013

Manic Mondays - An Extract

A Manic Monday for Catherine Blake (Caz)

Here is an extract from the novel, Manic Mondays. Caz has just dropped her daughter at a new nursery and is about to have some time to herself for the first time in ages. It hasn't started so well....

Caz gave her hysterical daughter a quick kiss as Jo

scooped her up, and she hesitantly left. Feeling completely

dreadful for leaving her in such a state, Caz shut the door

behind herself and burst into tears. The wind whipped

noisily around her as she walked down the path crying into

a dirty tissue. My morning! My one Monday morning! To

do something for me! Caz had built up such expectations

for what she now thought of as a stupid half-day by herself.

She felt wretched and the grey cloud pounced, leaving her

with nothing but a feeling of bleakness. Caz didn’t notice

the bike pulling up by the railings outside the nursery.

‘Watch out!’ the cyclist yelled as, with head bent down,

Caz walked straight into the side of his bike and bashed her

knee on the revolving pedal as it tipped into her.

‘Ouch!’ she yelled, and continued snivelling.

‘You were lucky I had slowed down to park! You should

have been looking where you were going’.

‘Look I’m sorry, OK?’ Caz sniffled through tears as she

hobbled on her throbbing knee. ‘Just don’t give me any

hassle. I don’t think I could cope with it at the moment.’

‘Hey! It’s you... you’re the lady from the park, aren’t


Caz looked up - it was Mike.

‘Oh, hi,’ she sniffled at him with a half smile. Caz knew

she had mascara smeared across her face but didn’t care.

Mike smiled back at her, ‘Sorry to say it, but you look


‘You’re the second person to say that recently.’ She tried

to wipe the smeared mascara from her cheek, not convinced

that she wasn’t making it worse. She smiled a strained smile.

‘Seriously, are you OK?’ he asked, bending down to find

Caz somewhere under her mass of curls.

‘No. No I’m not OK.’ she said sniffling. ‘I’ve just left

my daughter at the nursery for the first time and she’s

howling louder than this bloody wind; it’s the first time I’ve

had to myself for weeks and now it’s ruined; I’ve just moved

here and I don’t know anyone – and I completely hate

Mondays anyway!’ She burst into tears again.

‘Sounds bad.’ Mike seemed to be struggling to keep the

humour out of his voice.

‘What? What’s funny?’

‘I dunno. Just the Monday thing, mostly,’ he said. ‘I

mean, all the rest sounds genuinely tough, but Mondays?

Ninety-nine percent of the population hate Mondays, so I

was wondering why you threw that one in.’ Caz couldn’t

help but smile back at him.

‘It’s a long story. My Monday thing is quite different to

most peoples though, I assure you.’ She licked a finger and

ran it under her bottom eyelids, to remove any last traces of

offending smears.

‘Come here,’ Mike said pulling a clean hanky from his

pocket. ‘You missed a bit.’ So there she stood like a four

year-old, while a virtual stranger wiped her eyes for her.


‘Look, give me a minute to sort out my bike and get

Leah out of this wind, into the nursery and then I’ll have a

look at that knee of yours and, who knows? Maybe we can

clear up this Monday thing too.’ Caz turned to go.

‘And don’t walk off, do you hear?’

Caz turned back. She felt embarrassed that Mike had

seen her in such a state, and she really wanted to go, but he

had been so nice, she just stood there. She watched him lock

his bike up and tried to compose herself. She smiled at Leah

who poked her tongue out. She felt like returning the gesture

but resisted the temptation. Caz watched Mike’s blonde hair

being made even more tousled by the wind. She wondered

if he just washed it and left it uncombed, because it didn’t

look like he did a lot with it (she thought of James’

slicked-back, tidy hair). It suited him though. He had big,

bright-blue eyes, and he looked laid back and carefree. She

imagined him to be an artist, or a writer, or a … Mike looked

up at her from his bike and smiled. Caz looked away

That's all for now . I hope your Monday starts off better than this one did for Caz.
Happy Monday xx

Monday, 7 October 2013

Manic Mondays New Cover!

Hello Everyone... welcome to another Manic Monday.

Woo hoo! Candy Jar publishing company had designed a new cover for my book. I hope you like it!  It has been designed by the lovely Nathan Hudson.

I have been researching other Monday books to see if I can find anything like Manic Mondays. There's not much around and nothing that has this book's focus - love them loath them we all do Mondays. It's the get up and go day, or for Catherine Blake the get up and go wrong day!

'Oooh! That's interesting,' I hear you shout. Yes.... exactly, which is why I shall tell you some more. This is what I found.....I found two crime books and a fantasy. Blue Monday by Nicci French, and Monday Mourning by Kathy Reich. Mister Monday by Garth Nix is one of seven that go right up to Lord Sunday. When people said I should write Toxic Tuesday, Winky Wednesday, Thirsty Thursday etc (you get the picture) I said 'are you for real? that would never work!' I stand corrected Nicci French - Tuesdays are Gone, and Waiting for Wednesday. I read Monday to Friday Man by Alice Peterson recently, and enjoyed it, but as far as Amazon goes on a Monday morning that's it my luvlies.

Back To Monday!!

Did you know that more arguments happen on a Monday morning than any other week day? Yes, it's true. Us human beings get all stressed out on a Monday morning. We've got to get out, on time, remember everything, work hard, look after our children, be nice... it's tough!

So, my message to you this Manic Monday is ...don't have a row, or snap at a loved one just because you can. Choose to see the good in them instead. Make Monday be to your week what a cup of tea can be to your day - a great start!

...And if you leave that in the middle of the kitchen floor for me to trip over again, I will scream.....!

See you next week xx

Monday, 30 September 2013

Opening of Manic Mondays

It's Monday Already!!

Is it my imagination or is it the case that the better your weekend, the quicker Monday arrives? It's like some cruel twist of nature! If the weekend is rubbish, Monday takes weeks to arrive!

I did have some ideas for Monday treats you could give yourselves, but I'm sure your imagination will work better if I don't tell you what they are. Throw off your duvet, smile before 11.16 today and prove the stats wrong.

I thought it was about time I put up an extract from my book which is due to be published in a week or so with This is how it begins....

Here is an extract from Manic Mondays
Chapter 1

After twenty minutes of indecision Caz reached the conclusion that she had to go, and if she ran it should be okay. She ought to be back in ten minutes, maximum. It didn’t occur to her there was another option. She wasn’t thinking straight.

Wrapping a bright pink scarf around the neck of her light blue jumper Caz grabbed her keys. She looked down at them to make doubly sure they were the right ones. She might be a prisoner now it had passed eight o’clock, but to not be able to get back in would be a disaster. She carefully closed the front door behind her with a barely perceptible click.

Once outside, Caz tip-toed across the front patio to the gateless gap.  Once on the pavement she began to feel like a criminal. She knew she wasn’t allowed out! She felt like the naughty kid who sneaks a chocolate biscuit from the kitchen tin, hoping no one will notice. Only worse. She could almost touch the gnawing guilt already. She suddenly felt ridiculous, creeping along the darkening city pavement like a war child. Caz broke into a run. Her new blue loafers pounded the pavement kicking aside a coke can, crisp wrappers, and a discarded fish and chip paper amongst the fallen autumn leaves.

The chill of the evening air hit the tears on her cheeks. For a few seconds, Caz was free. She felt exhilarated. Her shoulder length curly brown hair flew out behind her, and Caz ran faster. She hurtled ungainly down the street, and stumbling, nearly caused herself the injury she was trying so hard to avoid. She thought she was doing fine for time, as she arrived at the Spar shop in record speed.

Caz nodded a tense smile to the shopkeeper and headed for the fridge. She dived ahead of a teenager with red spiky hair who was dithering between the butter and Flora, and retrieved two litres of full fat milk, and a bottle of white wine. When Caz got to the counter the spiky teenager had got there before her. Obviously a regular, he was oblivious to her frustration as he began chatting to the shopkeeper in an idle, manner. ‘Been fine today, hasn’t it mate?’ Spiky said. ‘Aye that it has boy. Off anywhere nice tonight? Got a nice girlie to take out?’ The shopkeeper chuckled, and Spiky shuffled in embarrassment. Caz shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. ‘Yeah,’ he said with a little laugh, ‘my new girlfriend’. ‘Hey, congratulations lad, you have yourself a nice time.’ Spiky began to peruse the shelves behind the shopkeeper.

Time dragged, vital seconds seemed to last hours, and finally after selecting a packet of Rizla, he paid the bill and moved on. Caz was served. She sprinted, breathless, along the pavement back to the house, arriving at the front door as planned less than ten minutes after she had left.

Quietly easing the key into the lock, her heart thudding, Caz stepped inside, gently closed the door and stood listening. The silence slammed into her. She flopped onto the stairs, and let out a long, relieved breath.

Monday, 23 September 2013

Not just another Manic Monday!

Happy birthday to the eight and a half million UK dwellers who celebrate a birthday today!

Today is a very special Manic Monday for me. Seventeen years ago today I was licking an orange ice lolly in a boiling hot delivery suite in a failed attempt to cool down, and about to take my first foray into motherhood. All plans of homeopathic remedies thrown on the floor, the pethidine kicked in. Today my six foot baby will no doubt lose his wallet again and nearly miss the bus on his way to his A level classes!

When Catherine Blake, the hero of Manic Mondays went to an antenatal class she arrived in a sharp suit, shook the hand of the midwife, and opened her lap top to take notes much to the amusement of the other rotund women in the room, and her own embarrassment. At the end of the class she fell asleep in an exhausted heap and woke up with a crumpled suit and mascara streaking her face. Maybe that was her first taste of the enforced change of parenthood.

Our children arrive with suitcases full of love that tug at our heart strings on a daily basis. I read the other day that if they don’t say they hate you at least once during their childhood, then you are doing a poor job as a parent. Believe me, based on that, I am doing brilliantly!

When my son was about 8 the thought of him leaving home and going to university filled me with panic. Back then he had no intention of going anywhere. He wanted to stay forever. But they train us well these children. Do you really think the trip to PGL (Parents Get Lost) in the last year of primary school is for them? Or the bus that takes them to school alone? Or the trips to France for history? I don’t think so. I think it is part of parent training…. teaching us that we can and will survive without our little people.

In another two years I think I will be ready to deposit my son with his cases at a far flung university, and to Skype his birthday wishes. I do hope, though, that he’ll come home with his bags of dirty washing, and offer me a bit more training for when he finally leaves to make a home of his own.

But please excuse me. I have just heard a cry from upstairs…I’ve got a wallet to find in the next 60 seconds, and then some driving lessons to book!

Have a great day.

Sunday, 15 September 2013

Welcome to another Manic Monday!
Do you remember this?

Catherine Blake (the hero of Manic Mondays) used to have everything ready for work and the Monday ahead by 7 o clock Sunday evening. That was until her life got a lot more complicated and a whole lot more messy. She was a man down and a baby up, and the chaos we have all experienced struck like a bolt of Monday lightening.

Today, if any of you make it to:

Work, or the
School run, or
Coffee with your mate, or
Golf, or

Your nail appointment, or
……………………………………… (add your own)

… if you do that on time, looking your best, without forgetting anything, without a cross word, or kicking the dog/cat/goldfish*, with a car full of fuel, having made the bed (this is not a woman’s job, boys – you sleep in it too!), and done the dishes (ditto last comment).. then call me now this minute…quick – you are the Monday Consultant of my dreams and the world needs your wisdom and guidance!

If on the other hand you go home to face this morning’s cold porridge smiling at you (no Goldilocks for you!), get moaned at by your kids because you sleepily muddled up the cheese and ham sandwiches in the lunch boxes again, get moaned at by your boss/staff* just because they don’t like Mondays either, and realise you are sitting in the office hiding your odd shoes under the desk (they both looked black in the dimness of morning!)… then welcome my friends to another Manic Monday!

But wait, I hear you shout, Monday doesn’t have to be pants!! Today there will be over 7 million hugs occurring in the UK, 300 people will get promotions, and over a thousand people will lose their virginity. See! People even have sex on a Monday, but don’t let it get you down if you haven’t – there’s always next Monday!

Have a good day, and let me know how your Monday is.
Loves xx
* If you can be bothered – it’s Monday!

Monday, 9 September 2013

Just another Manic Monday?

Manic Monday
There is no such thing as just another Monday. So make the most of this one people.

I find it best to plan ahead to make Monday less Manic, less stressful, and the karma all round calmer. So as I was searching through untidy bedrooms last night for remnants of last weeks’ school uniform to throw belatedly into the washing machine I remembered, and wished I’d followed my own wise words! By morning though, peace was restored and I only had to get up at 5am to get the wet clothes into the tumble dryer. The children had nice warm clothes to put on for school, so that was a definite bonus. Shame about the electricity bill, but you can’t have everything!

So… is there ever just another Monday? Here are some Manic Mondays facts…..

….50% of workers are late on a Monday….. Were you one of them you little tinker? Come on, fess up…

…..Most people don’t smile until 11.16 on a Monday morning. This was according to a study by Marmite (a bit like Mondays, you love it or hate it! I love it!). The gloomiest people are in the East Midlands where first smiles dawn at 11.33, and the smiliest people are in the South East where smiles crack though at just 11.16. Aah, Happy Days!

….Most people moan about Monday for a full 12 minutes….

….Monday is the best day to buy a car, because a quiet day is expected, they are prepared to a deal, and they are probably still thinking about how they wished is was Sunday!....

….over 1.2 million people will say ‘I love you’ today. That’s not to you personally, sorry – no one has that many people love them! They will say it to each other.

Let’s make history and change the stats. If you live with family or great friends tell them you love them today. And if you live on your own, smile in the mirror when you clean your teeth, and tell yourself!                           

Let me know how Manic your Monday is on the 1-10 ManicScale! Have a good one.

Loves xx

Friday, 6 September 2013

Manic Mondays is a light-hearted novel with a serious edge. This is the synopsis on Candy Jar's website.....

Caz has got everything a modern girl needs – a successful business, idyllic family life and even an 'Aga' in the kitchen! However, that all changes one Monday, when her hubby decides to leave her for their cleaner. All of a sudden Caz is left to raise her baby daughter alone, rebuild a career in tatters all while trying to avoid the attentions of Mike, who is ‘Mr Lovely’ until Caz notices his wedding ring...

Having lost everything, Caz is determined to prove that she can make
it on her own: juggling career, family and love life – all with the support of her friends who will do whatever they can to help Caz get back on her feet. Mondays may never be the same for Caz, but they will definitely always be manic.

Inspired by a period of change in the author's own life, she decided to focus on what that change might mean for another woman in today’s world, and how her Mondays would be different.

Funny, moving and inspirational – Manic Mondays can be described as

Bridget Jones meets the Undomestic Goddess.

Visit to place your pre-order

Thursday, 5 September 2013


Welcome to Manic Mondays Blog
Manic Mondays will be published shortly with Candy Jar. Please place your pre-order for a copy on the web site and offer your support for Manic Mondays.
So, what is it all about…here’s a taster.
Catherine Blake is a successful business woman who has it all until her husband, James, abandons her with her baby. Taking courage and making a brave decision she leaves the business with her husband, and moves from the rolling country hills of home to a city two hundred miles away with her daughter, Madeleine.
What do you do when busy hectic Monday mornings are now a timeless void? How do you cope when your world has ended and you have to start again in a strange, faceless city as a lone parent?
Tears, laughter, hope and tough decisions make this heart warming story a must-read for anyone who has ever had a job and a family and balanced their needs like a crazy circus act.
On this site I will post extracts from the book and hope to give you feedback and updates to make your Mondays sparkle!
Many thanks

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