Do odd things happen to you? They seem to happen to me a lot. Take for example the following incident… If you remember I bought the good Mr T a special carpet cleaner for Christmas as his penchant for cleaning is one I am eager to encourage (so long as it doesn’t involve my participation). It was a special carpet cleaner that could get into all the nooks and crannies and being a sucker diligent husband the good Mr T duly cleaned the stair carpet and landing over the vacations. The result was I had a lovely clean carpet without so much as lifting a finger except for having to press the Add to Basket on Amazon. What could be better for a woman as dedicated to housework as I am? So on Monday morning I made a nice hot cup of  steaming coffee and I went upstairs to see Master Benedict who had a

New Year is often a time to reflect on the past and look forward to the possibilities of what lies ahead. Normally, I write about what barking mad diet I intend to follow but this year I’ve decided to reflect on my writing journey and if you read my last post The Journalist you will discover how it came to be written. Many moons ago, at the outset of this blog, I posted the opening chapter to my first attempt at a novel. I wrote it sometime before I started this blog and long before I had gained any other writing experience. In fact, it was the first piece of fiction I’d written since I was at school. The novel was called Capital Crusader and my initial intention was to write a literary-style thriller which had been my preferred choice of reading material since a teenager. In the course of time, I duly sent three opening chapters and a synopsis to a critique agency. The

I go to get the eggs out of the chickens’ nesting boxes. There are three eggs. As I pick them out my reading glasses fall off my head and down in between the nesting box and the lid of the hutch onto the floor of the cage.  So I balance the eggs on the plastic corrugated cover under the blue exterior sheeting and reach down: but there’s no way I can reach my glasses. Humph. I go inside and get the barbecue tongs. I come back out, remove the bricks and wood that are weighing down the blue plastic exterior sheeting and roll it back up over the nesting boxes. Then I remove the plastic corrugated cover underneath the blue exterior sheeting. The eggs which I’d forgotten about fall off the corrugated sheeting down alongside my glasses and then blue plastic sheeting unfolds and drops down covering my glasses with snow. Humph. I finally lift up

I’ve been feeling a bit bored today. I have plenty to do though. In fact, too much to do which is why I probably can’t settle down to do anything in particular. The laundry, the ironing and the general  cleaning is screaming out at me as well as the possibility of a search and rescue mission for some old underpants in Master Jacob’s room which smells distinctly of vinegar. Curious. There’s also my book to continue which is now over 50,000 words. However, I just can’t settle to anything at all.  Nope. No can do. To use an English expression: I kinda have ants in my pants but due to boredom not excitement. Anyway, boredom usually leads in my case to depression. Not bi-polar which is for the celebs but the kind of depression that lead to chocolate digestives and strong cups of coffee laced with whiskey. Maybe even a doughnut or two. Or if I’m feeling really suicidal – filing my nails and actually