housework - Debbie Young's Writing Life

Day 185 of my Duolingo Latin streak, and the little green owl, Duo, mascot of this popular language learning app, has just emailed me to say he sees a 186-day streak in my future.

He’s right. The concept of the streak plays a huge part in Duolingo’s success. Once you get going, you dare not miss a day of practice for fear of cutting your streak short, although if you practise a lot, you’ll earn a Streak Freeze allowing you to take a very occasional day off. The longer the streak, the harder it is to lapse, especially when Duo is constantly stalking you with reminders.

If the green owl graphic wasn’t so cute, he’d seem positively sinister.

This is the second time I’ve built up a long Duolingo Latin Streak. Over the years, I’ve spent so many hours with Duo that I’ve completed the Latin course several times over. However, it’s far from comprehensive. I know I’d learn much more if I spent the same amount of time studying the Cambridge Latin Course. I first came across this course at secondary school, and the course book is currently Amazon’s bestseller in Latin. Even so, I can’t seem to escape Duo’s clutches.

cover of first book in Cambridge Latin series showing Amazon bestseller orange flag — I was astonished to find my old school Latin textbook is currently a bestseller on Amazon – bestseller n the Latin category, anyway!

We all know that apps are designed to be addictive, applying streak mechanisms to keep you hooked. The concept of the streak was around long before the invention of the app. Inevitably at my age, my earliest experience of the grip of the streak is analogue: the yellow attendance card for Scripture Union club at primary school. The A6 card was ruled into neat squares, and each time we attended the after-school club, the kindly Mr Linton stamped a little star into the next blank square. A row of stars earned the cardholder a bookmark, a full card a book. Gaining stars was a powerful motivator for attendance, as was Mr Linton’s obvious pleasure at our progress.

Perhaps I should apply the same psychology to housework, never high on my list of priorities.

graphic of Duolingo owl — I need my own Duolingo as my personal cheerleader for housework

I could easily make up a Scripture Union style card and reward myself with a stamp for every completed task. But it wouldn’t feel as fulfilling without the personal endorsement of dear old Mr Linton or Duolingo’s winsome little green owl.

As Mr Linton retired to Norfolk when I was 11, I can’t look to him for help now. Clearly I need my own version of Duo. So, if you come across a small plump green owl with domineering tendencies in need of a good home, please send him my way.

In Other News

No sooner is my latest book done than I’m writing the next!

Death at the Old Curiosity Shop was launched last month and has been very well received, with a 4.4* average on Amazon and over 120 reviews and ratings so far. This book is the start in a brand new series, initially planned as a trilogy, set around Alice Carroll, the new proprietor of a derelict bric-a-brac shop in the Cotswold village of Little Pride. I had such fun creating the new setting and characters that as soon as that book was in production, I set to work on the sequel. Death at the Village Chess Club will be launched on 3rd March 2025, and is already available to preorder. I’ll share the cover here as soon as I can.

graphic showing some endorsements from the blog tour — Just some of the kind reviews of my latest book so far

In the meantime, I’m getting in festive mood as I organise the next Hawkesbury Upton Village Literature Festival event – the now traditional Christmas Special. This will include readings of classic favourite Christmas poetry and prose, as well as readings and talks by local authors. Three of the guest speakers will be sharing stories written for this occasion. The Festival is very honoured! For more information and to book tickets, visit the HULF website at www.hulitfest.com, or book your tickets online via Eventbrite here. Advance booking is essential to make sure we’ve got enough refreshments and chairs to go around!

Ironing Board as a Bookshelf - Powder Coat it! — Image by ninahale via Flickr

The ironing board is on the landing. This may seem an odd place to keep it, but it’s solving a long-standing problem: the apparently bottomless ironing basket.

It’s not that I dislike ironing: in the right frame of mind, it’s very soothing. Research shows that repetitive tasks provide similar benefits to meditation. Knitting and jogging also qualify. But lately the view from my utility room of a dreary, browning, post-snow garden has deterred me from taking up my post at the ironing board. And the distinctive aroma of over-wintering guinea pig, which decamped to the adjacent worktop during the cold snap, is a further disincentive.

As I hovered in the utility room the day before spring term began, trying to summon up the energy to tackle a week’s worth of school uniforms, an inspiration flashed into my head. For this I must thank the author Susan Hill. At Tetbury’s Yellow-Lighted Bookshop’s wonderful Book Festival last summer, she talked about her latest book Howard’s End is on the Landing which describes the year she spent rereading books stashed around her house.

Like her, I have many books on my landing, which my husband recently redecorated. I took the opportunity to reorganise the bookshelves, showing the contents off to best advantage. Now at the top are decades of diaries, the earliest dating from when I was 8. Below are displayed precious and obscure books from my childhood (anyone else remember Torchy the Battery Boy?), through to the bittersweet teenage comforters such as Dodie Smith’s I Capture the Castle. Next come the dog-eared favourites from my university days. Well, some are less dog-eared than others: one day I really will read all four volumes of Richardson’s Clarissa, bought at vast expense in a wild moment of undergraduate optimism. Then there’s the vast collection of hobby-related guides acquired in my leisure-rich child-free days. These haven’t seen much action since I acquired a child, whose own bedroom is now bursting at the seams with books.

I never tire of looking at my bookshelves. The display on the landing will be a lovely backdrop to my ironing. The location offers other conveniences: a thick, warm Indian rug under foot; the adjoining bathroom where I can easily top up the iron’s water chamber; nearby wardrobes for immediately hanging up the ironed clothes (far better than turning the kitchen into a holding bay). I’m convinced that on the landing, I’ll make great headway through the ironing basket – at least as long as I can ignore the comfy rocking chair in the corner, an ideal place to curl up with a book.

But for now I’m determined that this refreshing change of scene will restore momentum to the task in hand. What’s more, I’m thinking of applying the same principle to other stalled proceedings. So once I’ve finished typing this, I’m off to do my tax return in the bath. Must press on….

(This post originally appeared in The Tetbury Advertiser, February 2011)

Tag: housework

The Power of the Streak

In Other News

How to Get to the Bottom of the Ironing Basket