Imay not have the time toblog quite as often now, asI am working on a novel.

Although I can just about walk and chew gum at the same time, I forget whereI am in a novel if I don't keep myself on track.

Thetitle for my new novel is: 'Red Emeralds'. Buried deeply in the recesses of my mind, I know why I've chosen this title andit's part ofa tangled thought process. It's to do with the Indian Army.I'll tell you moreanother time. Don't mean to be a tease, butno one writes in a vacuum.

This is whyit's pointless telling students to write what they know about. How cananyone write about what they don't know, whenit's hellish hardto write about the back of your hand, if you think about it, which you probably don't.

Misconceptions about writing abound:It'sa pass-time, something you do when you can't think ofany other way of fillinga couple of hours. The only thing that's stopping mostpeoplefrom being best-selling novelists is that they've got to work, ie: to earn money, as though writers don't have to, either.

Of course, if you are apublished novelist, you are considered to have made shedloads of cash. Never mind that only seven per cent of novelists make enough money to eat every day.

Thinking of the book title: 'The loneliness of the Long Distance Runner', I could substitute the word 'Writer'. Yes, it's lonely and you've got to believe you will make it to the end, with a few spurts left in you, otherwise no-one will spareyou a glance.

Onefriend saidI was fortunate in being able to write at any time. Technically, this is true,but I can think creatively only at night. (I must have been a cave dweller in some otherlife, sitting in darkenss most of the time.) 'Oh,but if you can write, you can write', she persisted.

A creative stimulus is having a reader who likes your work. (I wrote poetry for the MA course, because the poetry tutor happened to walk into a lessonand saw some poetry I'dwritten for another class and began reading it closely. I immediately decided not to write the proposed novel and swapped to poetry, not having written another poem before. (Weird, what?)

I listened to Alison Pearson, who has sold more than a million copies of 'How Does She Do It?'talking In Patrick's Restaurant, Mumbles.Alison said that when urged by friends to write a book, she hadto tell them she did not havea story to write about (until her runaway success, of course).

This is the problem. Success breeds success. You have a best-seller? What do you do? You write another, simple as that. (Alison did - as a teenager, sheloved David Cassidy, so hey presto! she put it all down on paper). This is how it works, though Eysenk said it works best like this: success, failure, success, but let's not go into that now.

I have a theory; the writer is like a musical conductor: your task is to keep the musicians together (the charactersin the story) and keep the beat going (the pace and the excitement). If you can, you might have a best-seller. Good luck!

I was twenty when Betty Friedian's 'The Feminine Mystique' was published. Fishguard library kept up with the times and I borrowed a copy of the book. I soon got the jist of it: if God intended women to wash dishes He would have given them steel hands.Betty forgot to mention that men weren't born with steel hands either, so perhapsshe wasexpecting the fairies to wash up for her.

I don't know why she banged on about dishes because I could have told her that after a day working on people's pay, tax, and sickness allowances, washing the dishes could be regarded as a treat.

Imentioned Betty toPeter.He didn't find heras amusing as I did.

There was no issue about dishesin our house: Peterdid the breakfastthings during the week because I was onthe 8.45am 'bus to Trecwn. In the evening, we did them together.

I'm letting the Chwiorydd (Sisterhood) downbysaying I've always thought it's the woman's job to wash the dishes if it's the man's job to earn the money.Sorry, but I do.

Perhaps it doesn't affect me like it does some people because Peter enjoys housework. Always has. Knows everything about shining brass, removing stainsand all that.

Having been married for ever and ever, I have decided views on some things. I worked for three years when I was first married, then I washome for ten years bringing up the girls and I worked again for twenty one years. Now, this may be beyond the pale, but I have never said to Peter that I am going to put air in the tyres, wash the car and fill it with fuel. Idon't wantto be shown how to, either.(I have put fuel in the car twice in the fifty years I have been driving).

Ilike tocook our food although, when Peter retired before me, he cooked every meal during the week (though he asked me what I'd like), saw to the dishes,cleaned the house, shopped, took the car for the MOT. As soon asI retired, Icooked again and we sort thehousework between us.

But whatI am coming to is this: if a man stays at home for a few years in order to bring up the children, his wife beingthe main earner, should she support him for the rest of her life if they split?Even if he is still under forty and perfectly able to work?

Someone I've heard of ispayingher husband, who has left her, a monthly allowance, although the children no longer need him. The wifehas given her husband hisshare of the house and is still supporting herself and the children.He will also want a share of her pension, even though he did not take out his ownpension whilstat home.

I also believe that a woman should not expect aman to bank roll her for life. If a woman marries a rich man, and it does not work out, she should not expect to leave the marriage with buckets full of cash.

My advice to a couple getting married is this: washing the dishesis easy compared tosorting thecash if the fairytale crashes.

WhenI was eight years old and a pupil in the Model School, Carmarthen, we were given the holiday task ofwriting downthe inscription on the monument to General Sir Thomas Picton, which stands at the western end of the town.A friend and Idiligently copiedthe details, none of which I remembered afterwards. (The monumentwas commissioned in 1823, the king contributing a hundred guineas towards its construction, I have since read.)

Thomas Picton was born in Poyston, Pembrokeshire, in 1758.

Regarded as a hero by those unaware ofhis background,a Haverfordwest school was named after him, calledSTP bythe pupils. My son-in-law, Neil, was the first Head Boy.

A brave soldier, Pictonbecame Governor of Trinidad. By all accounts, he was brutal with a foul temper.

'Let them hate, so long as they fear', was his motto.

In 1806, Picton appeared before Lord Ellenborough at the King's Bench, accused of torturing a fourteen year old girl, making her stand on a peg. She was suspected of assisting a lover to burgle the house of the man she lived with.

The jury decidedSpanish lawdid not allow the torture of suspects and, on the evidence given, found Picton guilty.

Picton sought a retrial and this time the jury reversed the earlier verdict but said that torture of a free person was distasteful to the laws of England and Picton must have known he should not have permitted it.

His reputation was tarnished.In England there was talk of his ill-treatment of slaves, including his own and his land profiteering.

Mortally wounded by a musket ballat the Battle of Waterloo on June 18, 1815, he was said to have been wearing civilian clothes and a top hat because his trunk, containing his uniform, had not arrived.

Picton's portrait hangs above the Judge's chair at Carmarthen Crown Court. A solicitor has objected, saying the court is a symbolof justice and Picton's portrait is highly objectionable.

One of the first things students of history learn isto judgea pastage bythe standards of that age. Ialways argued this pointin essays I wrote when in college and yet, I have some sympathy with the sentiments expressed.

Conversely,Ithink it is no bad thing to remember the atrocities of the past and endeavour not to repeat them, even if it means keeping General Picton's portrait in situ.

When I was in the grammar school during the fifities, we were discouragedfrom thinking about a careeruntil 'O' levels hadbeencompleted and 'A' levels decided on.This was to discourage us from the lure of jobs and the money that they provided.Oxford and Cambridge were the goals, or some otheruniversity,preferably in Wales.The role of the grammar school was to preparepupils for an academic career.

At a class reuniona few years ago, one of the 'girls', to everyone's delight,or amazement, anyway, had returned to teach in the school we had attended, retiring when she was sixty.Many of the others, after 'O' levels,hadbecomecounter clerks in banks.

I wondered ifthis would have been so if we'dreceived advice from a careers' adviser. (The year before 'O' levels someone came to talk about jobs butall I recall was a warningabout a 'bored' telephone operator, who wanted to retrain for somethingmore interesting.)

Although we did not realise it at the time, my classmates and Iwere on the cusp of a new era. Up until about 1960 it was widely assumed that a job was just a 'filler' until marriage, when womenexited the jobs market for ever. (The staff in our school were, on the whole, unmarried, proving women might need to work all their lives).We, the'baby boomers', showed thatmany women wantedmarriage and acareer.

I'll digress a little and forgive me, but I've been listening to some sixth formers talkng about their futures. They, too, are at a pivotal pointand they needguidance.

Until recently, the goal has been higher education for all,regardless of what jobs people eventually hope to have.There are many jobs I can think of, but will not mention, for fear ofoffending anyone, that simply do not need a degree,though it is possible to take a degree qualification in that particular area.

Two of the pupils I spoke to, were consideringstarting a 'sandwich' courses, where they can 'earn and learn', while studying fora part-time degree.

Anothertoyed with the idea oftaking any job to enable herto live at home andstudy for an 'Open University' degree, becauseshedid not want to be lumbered with thousands of pounds worth of debtsthroughout her twenties. (Although some government minister or other has just said thatdebts should be looked on as 'loans', they still have to be repaid, whatever they are called).

This could be the generation that turns its collective back on traditional modes of education, that questions the costof a broadeducation when, practically,subjects relevantto the intendedoccupation would be a more time and cost-effective way of achieving career goals.

'Extreme Couponing' is big in America, apparently. Families can lophuge amounts off their grocery bills.

$1,000 worth of stuff can be 'bought' for $17. (Am I living in the wrong country?)

Kate, who has visited friends there, says some people pack their garageswith detergents, toilet rolls, tins of fruit and various groceries.

I've just spent an absorbing time ordering magazines on-line and they have not cost me any actual money, because I have used tokens as payment.

We buy some of ourgroceries and most of the fuel for thecar in one particular store. Ihave a store card andreceive 'loyalty' voucher rewardsin the post.

Until recently, a voucher's face value could be exchanged for a 'reward' at four times the amount shown on the voucher.

Thus,a 10 voucher meant you couldtake out a magazine subscription worth 40 andthe magazine wouldbe sent to your home. I have most of my magazines 'free', thanks to this system.

The rewards have now gone down to three times the value: (credit crunch, I suppose), but they are still much better than that ofother stores.

Vouchers can be exchanged for nights in top hotels, air miles, pizza meals, jewellery and loads of other things, too, or they can buy groceries, but only at face value.

I havea good quality new bathroom suite, a new cloakroom suite plus a range of the best tiles, all 'paid' for with vouchers. No cash was needed. For one of the bedrooms, I 'bought' two large fitted wardrobes andagain, no money was involved.

I am sometimes asked to take out loyalty cards with other stores but always refuse, because none of the otherscan match these rewards.

As Keynes, the economist, might have said, 'the more you spend, the more you earn'.

A young boy was delivering fliers in our road and he gave me one. I askedif it was for the'Kinky KaBurger' cafe. He looked at me solemnly before saying slowly, 'King Kebab Burger'. I won't mix that one up again.

Giles Coren has been to Wales, not sure if he's visitedKing Kebab Burger, but Hooray! he just loves our food. (Why wouldn't he, it's good). AA Gill has crossed the border, too, buthe's a bit sniffy about theWelsh. (For the uninitiated, I am referring to two food critics who get paidto eat in restaurants before giving theiropinion of the food. I eat out, too, and sometimes give my verdict on what I've had, but I don't get paid for it).

Giles has eulogised about the bestpork pie he's had in years, costing 1.10 in a cattle market in Oswestry, (almost in Wales), before getting into Wales proper, Anglesey, (Mon, Mam Cymru) and you won't get much Welsher than that, where he had an even better pie, close to the Berwyn Mountains.The beef fromWelsh Black cattlewas amongst the best he'd ever tasted.

This made methink of the great culinary divide that exists nowadays. I'm not into Cordon Blah-de blah, snail porridge and, even if I didn't have a husband who likes to know at first glance what's on his plate, I don't want atasting menu with seventy or so spoonfuls of something unidentifiable. I want to eat successive forkfuls of food so that I have a feeling of satiation, repleteness, whicha daub of this and that would not provide.

It's not 'witty' food I want, 'four and twenty blackbirds' flying out from under a pie-crust, but honest-to-goodness, eat-it-all-up food.

Tomorrow is stir-up Sunday, when wemix our figgypuddingsin preparation for the biggest feast day of the year.We will pack away dried fruits, brandy, suet, lemon peel, cloves, spices from the Orient, cheeses, sausages, herbs and Gentlemen's Relish, root vegetables, brassicas, bread sauce, stuffing enough to float a battle ship but, in the midst of all this, I'm ready to return to Bara Te, or Siencyn (a slice of breadmixed into a cup of tea) a lettuce sandwich and honey on toast.

The great drama of the Victorian age was the spread of railways across vasttracks of the country, bringingsocial and economic change.On the 28th December, 1853, the Haverfordwest branch of the South Wales Railway was opened, widening the horizons of many people.

A sketch I have, torn from 'The London Illustrated News' of January 7th, 1854, shows crowds gathering on the station platform to greet the arrival of the first train. On a banner are written the words: 'Llwyddiant Yr Railffordd': 'Success of the Railway'.

Growth of therailwayswas aided by one man in particular,Isambard Kingdom Brunel, son ofthe French engineer, Sir Marc Brunel.

When he was twenty seven, Isambard became chief engineer to the Great Western Railway line. He introduced the broad gauge (seven feet and a quarter inch) to replace the previous standard gauge. Although Brunel proved that the broad gauge gave more stability to coaches, enabled engines to travel at a higher speed and providedmore comfort to passengers,there was muchopposition, partly because the standard gauge would need replacing.

The railway acted as a touchstone in the town, a punctuationof time: events were cataloguedas occurring before the line was opened andafterwards.

Geographically, anywhere east of Haverfordwest was referred to as 'up the line'.

London became possible in a day, instead of the three days it had previously taken by stage coach. Travel by train was quicker and cheaper .

Therailway providedwork, paying two shillings a day for a twelve hour day, which compared favourably with the five shillings a week a farm labourer earned.Conditions left a lot to be desired, though,and accidents were frequent.

Irish 'navvies' worked in shifts, night and day, on the Shoal's Hook Cutting, a treacherous place, where many were killed or maimed.

Brunel's vision was remarkable. He wantedto enable passengersto board the train at Paddington and travel to Neyland, where they would take the Great Western Steamship to New York.

Neyland honoured the memory of Brunel by commissioning a statue. A few years ago, the statue was stolenand has never been found.

I had a doll when Iwas a child. A large procelain doll that made a soundwhich was supposed to resemble 'Mamma'. I called her Jenni and she had two teeth which disappeared into her gums when I tried to clean them. My mother paid a dressmaker to sew some extra clothes for Jenni, (pink crepe de chine dresses). I gave her a wipe over when I was in the mood and walked her out in a pram.

Emma had a doll andpushchairand Kate had Suzy and a pram. Kate preferred stuffed animal toys to dolls soSuzy's popularity soon waned.

For some unknown reason, Kate and I were talking last week about people whocoo into babies prams. I said people in Fishguard liked babies and Kate said Carmarthenpeople do, too, remembering when Ffion was small.

Atthe weekend I stood aside for a middle aged woman with a small pram to come out of a shop. As she manoeuvered it carefully over the step I noticed what I thought was a baby, swaddled in frills, sleeping. 'Oh, a contented baby', I said brightly, but the woman went on her way.

Inside the shop, one assistant saidto the other: 'If she brings that doll in again, I'll be spooked. It's really weird'.

I was looking at some Christmas cards, when a thought flashed up. 'Was that adoll in the pram?'

The words had left my mouth before I'd had time to think. The assistants nodded. 'Shebought it on the internet. She's ordered another. The chest goes up and down as though it's sleeping'.

I wondered if the woman was returning to some part of her childhood when she'd not had toys. The assistants said that this person had grown-up children, but was spending a small fortune on these dolls (one dollcost eight hundred pounds).

I thought of men who collect dinky toy cars, model aeroplanes and toy trains and I saw some parallels with doll collectors.

Later, I spoke toEmmaabout it and I mentionedarrested development.We both know people who dress as though they are still twenty one, forty years later, because twenty one was the age they felt was their best and so these, too have a 'golden age'.

Emma said people who have lost their mothers at a young age often re-live that time with the sort of toys they would have had.

I could not let this woman andthe doll she treated as almost real, out of my mind. And the other thing was, why did this doll make us feel uncomfortable?

Ernst Jensch, the psychologist, said thatuncanny feelings arise when there isuncertainty if something is alive or not.

Masahiro Mori, the roboticist, said if something is obviously inanimate, its human characteristics will stand out and be endearing, but if the boundary between human and mechanistic is blurred, the ambiguity will createuncertainty.Thiswould explain ourunease.

Somewhere,I've read: 'Whatever you have lacked, you will do your utmost toput into your life' and this refers to our deepest emotional needs.I'll remember this if I see the 'baby' again.