Tag Archives: marmite

500 Words a Day

I don’t always write 500 words, though I do normally find no difficulty in the 250 I set myself as a minimum for posting. Most of the time I could write more, but I try to have some consideration for the reader (that’s you) as a thousand words of me moaning about modern life would be too much, even for the most determined curmudgeon.

The germ of this post developed from reading about Philip Larkin, which took me on to read about Kingsley Amis. It appears that Amis gained his reputation for having a prodigious output by writing 500 words a day. This does not seem many. He also, it seems, had iron self-discipline, and would always write his 500 words in the morning before devoting the rest of the day to drinking and adultery. I’m not saying I like him, or have liked any of his books in the past, but you have to admire a man who knows his own mind.

I’m not being dismissive about 500 words a day, or 250 or 1,000, which have all been named as a daily target by various people. It’s not easy. It’s particularly not easy to write 500 useful words.

Here are some figures.

3,000 words a day: Anne Rice, Trollope, Conan Doyle, Erle Stanley Gardner, Frederick Forsythe.

1,000 words a day: J G Ballard, Sarah Waters, Sebastian Faulks, Somerset Maugham.

500 words a day: Ernest Hemingway, Graham Greene, Kingsley Amis.

There’s something there for everyone, and if you want to see more you can look here. The highest target I can find 10,000 words a day, from R F Delderfield and Michael Crichton.

That brings me up to 262 words. It’s ironic that I’m struggling to get the words done for a blog post about daily word targets.

If I was a proper writer I would have to plough on until 500, or 1,000 or even 10,000 words. On the other hand, if I was a proper writer I’d be getting paid for this.  I either need to get a grip or re-title the post ‘333 Words a Day’.

The photos for today’s post are part of the series ‘Things I’ve Photographed Whilst Sitting in my Chair in Front of the TV’. It’s one of the easier series of photographs I’ve done as it requires no travel, little thought and no duck food.

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Roses in close up

The roses are from Monday’s expedition to Aldi and are a delicate pink with a hint of lavender, or mauve. I’m not quite clear about the colours in that range.

I did do some research on the subject, but it ran to 200 words of gobbledygook and left me none the wiser. Bored, confused and none the wiser, to be honest, so I exercised my power to delete.

That, I suppose, leaves us with an important question.Would you rather have 500 words of Greene or Hemingway or 10,000 words of Delderfield or Crichton. There’s no right answer, of course, as I suspect Crichton has outsold all the others combined. It may not be a judgement on the quality of writing, but what’s the point in being the best writer in the world if nobody reads your writing?

That’s 511. It’s quite enough.

The final photo is not a jar of Marmite, it’s a novelty egg cup. When you go to a charity shop with books, it sometimes happens that you buy something…

Marmite - novelty egg cup

Marmite – novelty egg cup

 

 

The Big Day Off

It didn’t quite go to plan – we didn’t set off until 11am for one thing, though the plan had been to be on the road by nine.

The light wasn’t very good for photography so we didn’t get many photographs, and managed to miss three corkers. One was a yellowhammer on a stone gate post (it flew as we raised the camera), the second was an orange tip butterfly we spotted whilst driving down a narrow road (yes, it flew and settled a couple of times but I missed it, despite trying to track it for 10 minutes) and the third was a cormorant drying its wings on the edge of Scarborough Harbour. It would have been an easy shot, apart from the fact I’d left the camera in the car.

I did manage to get a few shots though, just to brighten up the slab of text.

On the other hand several things did go right. We stocked up on cake at Mrs Botham’s and had a couple of pork pies to fill the hole where lunch should have been. They were probably the second best pork pies I’ve ever had. The crust was well-flavoured and crispy and the meat had good taste and texture. With a little bit of jelly these could have reigned supreme. Beaten into second place by the thickness of an eighth of an inch of jelly!

Whitby was a bit of a bust, being pretty much one traffic jam from end to end. Fortunately we had called at Mrs B’s bakery, on the Scarborough side of town. If we’d tried for the tea room we would have been doomed.

After a detour  through some narrow country roads (missing the aforementioned pictures of yellowhammer and orange tip) we made it to Scarborough and the second part of the shopping trip. First, the Poundshop, which isn’t quite a pound shop any more. However, five pairs of reading glasses for £10 should do me for a while. Then the  cheap bookshop, which is better stocked than ever. I bought Julia a stick of Marmite flavoured rock there, because she likes Marmite. I’m one of the few people who seems to be able to take it or leave it. The rock was sweet with the occasional hint of Marmite, but the important thing is that all my teeth survived.

Finally we bought crabs on the seafront and started the hunt for fish and chips.

We resisted the lure of the Golden Grid because although it talks a good game we’ve always felt disappointed (and poor) at the end of the meal.

Winking Willy’s was very good last time we went (despite the name) but it was closed. The Fishpan seemed quite popular, so we chose that. The service was a bit chaotic but the staff were really pleasant and the food was excellent. When I ordered a large haddock they suggested we move onto a table for 4, as it was unlikely to fit onto the table for 2 where we were currently seated. They weren’t wrong. It’s the first time I’ve had a portion so large that it had to be measure in square yards rather than by weight.

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Kittiwakes nesting on the cliff below Scarborough Castle

Fish was succulent, batter was crisp, chips were good, peas could have been better, as could the bread and butter, but they were still more than adequate.

In my younger days I once ate the Harry Ramsden’s Challenge and still have the certificate to prove it. I was able to eat a pudding and custard after that, too. Yesterday I had to leave the last four chips because I simply couldn’t fit them in. I did put them on Julia’s plate though, as I didn’t want people thinking I was a wimp.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

seemed a bit disorganised, though they were very friendly and