The mysteries of Boris & Horace and a dance extravaganza

Had our first puzzle card of the season yesterday – we do always seem to get one we can’t interpret, at least for a while. Is this just me or does everyone have this problem?? Anyway, the card in question appeared to be from someone called “Sulele” and the note inside read “I’m still working on Boris & Horace. Enjoying it very much.” The plot was thickening in a suitably mysterious manner so I asked Lord H. He read the card, put on his best Russian accent and said: Ah, I am working on Boris & Horace, but I believe they will crack soon and tell me everything they know. Hmm, it’s this sort of response that makes me wonder about my husband sometimes … Thankfully, I’ve now worked out who it’s from – one of my friends who writes children’s books (hello, Angela! – what wild writing you’ve got!) – so MI5 are unlikely to be calling round. Yet.

Today, it’s so ridiculously cold that I’m wearing a jumper, a fleece and a coat. In the office, I’ve only removed the coat. I’m keeping the rest on – I want to hang on to all my extremities for as long as I can. I’m also being super-brave and starting to look at updating our Personal Tutors’ Handbook, even though I have no real idea what is wanted or how it should be changed. Still, ignorance has never stopped me before, eh … I’m a great fan of the “let’s have a go and see what happens” style of working. In the meantime, a man with a mower is walking up and down the concrete walkway and patio area mowing it. Are we in the twilight zone?? There is no grass, people. I accept that we need to provide employment for the masses, but this might be going a little too far.

This lunchtime, I’m wrapping up well and off into town to pay in my cheque from Writers’ News – the third prize of £25 in the space poetry competition. I shall spend it wisely and well, ho ho.

Talking of poetry, here’s one:

Certain days

are blank; they arrive
wrapped in light
and promise

but are soon
revealed
as clouds

without substance,
a medley
of emptiness

and mist -
so there is nothing
to do but sit

waiting
for the night
to swallow them up

again.


This afternoon, Carol and I have hand-delivered the papers for the Mentoring Board meeting next week as there are so many of them in different colour combinations (all coded of course …) that if we send it by email, it’ll just confuse everyone. There is something charmingly 1950s about it though. Take a letter, Miss Jones …

Tonight, it’s the last session of the Scottish country dancing class, so I’m taking drinks and nibbles for afterwards and I’ve even invited one or two friends to come along and laugh at me. And maybe have a dance as well – you never know! I did invite Lord H too, but he’s very reluctant to be dragged into an actual dance so I suspect he’ll stay at home. I’ll have to bring him back a mince pie or several.

I’m also beginning to need the year to be over. It’s been way too long and this term is (always) way way too long and I just want to stop and get some rest. Soon, please God!

I've also just finished reading Val McDermid's The Mermaids Singing. Um, yes well, nothing wrong with the writing, but there was far too much unnecessary violence and I didn't really like the main man that much. I thought he was a total prat, though the woman was nice. Have no idea what she saw in him though. My sympathies were (apart from the violence) with the serial killer. The only thing is I wish he'd managed to get the main man earlier and kill him off entirely. That would have been good. Deep sigh. I don't think I'll be getting another McDermid then.

Finally, we have yet another strange Christmas card - the downstairs neighbour has sent us one with a little note, saying he hopes we have a good Christmas, even though 2008 will be very unpleasant and bring lots of crises for us all. Eh??? Does he know something we don't?? Should we be battening down the hatches and waiting for the nuclear age?!? Or simply moving? Answers on a postcard please. But don't use a Christmas card, as it's just too scary ...

Today’s nice things:

1. Boris & Horace
2. Earning £25 from writing – hurrah!
3. Dancing.

Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Goldenford Publishers