Ruth has bravely struggled into work today, but is still suffering, poor thing. I’m not sure she’ll make the first night of Pirates of Penzance tonight, or at least not much of it, which is such a shame. We shall go on Thursday and fly the flag whether or not she’s there. Naturally. But I do hope she gets better soon.
Meanwhile I’ve spent the morning continuing to try to beat yesterday’s minutes into submission. The jury’s out on who might win, I have to say. I suspect in the end nobody will be able to tell the victor. Lunchtime saw me at the Writers’ Group meeting. It was the first one where new students might be able to come along too, and we had two or three which was nice. People seemed to enjoy the exercises as well, so that was good, though I don’t think I was quite as on top of it all as I was last month. However I did remember to take my calming pills this morning, and top up the effects with my relaxation spray, so at least I sounded less like a gazelle on speed than usual. One hopes. Really my fellow University writers must imagine I take life at such a hectic pace but it’s pure nerves, my dears, pure nerves. And outside the meeting, I think I managed to help Rosemary with her plot problem a little, so maybe I did some good somewhere after all! There’s always hope. And here’s the piece I wrote during the hour. The start of something but Lordy knows what ... It was based on things we love and things we hate. My hates are unexpected visitors and grey cars (even though Lord H’s grey car is lovely of course …), and my loves are free time and Midsomer Murders. Amongst other things.
Barry's Worst Nightmare
Barry’s worst nightmare was unexpected visitors arriving in grey cars. After all, grey cars didn’t go with his freshly-painted garage. They made it look dull. Worst of all was if the visitors arrived while he was sitting down with his weekly glass of vodka and tonic, watching Midsomer Murders. That was his sacrosanct time. A time when he could revel in his own company and be answerable to nobody else.
So, that particular Sunday evening at 9.30pm, just when the good Inspector was discovering the first body – or two, the clarion call of the front doorbell was not received with joy.
Peering out of the window, the sight of a dirty grey Vauxhall made him groan. He knew its owner very well and there was no gainsaying her. Resigned therefore to the inevitable, he padded to the door and pulled it open, plastering an almost-welcoming smile on his face.
‘Great-Aunt Edith!’ he cried. ‘How lovely. And how very unexpected. Do come in.’
Ooh, and I was pleased to get an email from one of my MySpace contacts wanting to know how to get hold of either A Dangerous Man or Maloney’s Law so I was able to help her with that, hurrah. Thank you so much, Kellie – that’s cheered me greatly!
Tonight, I shall pop into see Gladys on the way back from work and refill that bird table. UPDATE: She seemed much calmer, thank goodness. The nurse said they'd changed the medication so that was helping. Here's hoping it continues ... And then I might even try to do a little more to Hallsfoot’s Battle as well. If the mood is upon me. Though the ironing basket is also calling, I fear …
Today’s nice things:
1. Writers’ Group
2. A request for my books – well, gosh!
3. Writing.
Anne Brooke
Anne's website - which occasionally gets requests!
2 comments:
Barry sounds like a creature of habit and an ideal character for a murder story!
There's a thought for sure!
:))
Axxx
Post a Comment