Monday, 9 May 2011

nobody steals my pumpkin

I called round to get some quotes for putting blinds up in the conservatory roof. It gets so hot in there, it’s impossible to use the space. The only plants I can put out there are cacti.
Two people are coming tomorrow to give me a quote and two on Friday. One said it could be as much as two thousand pounds, if it is, I’ll have to carry on boiling!
I’m hoping I can get away for a few days next week, hopefully to Liverpool. National are running a short trip which leaves on Monday and comes back Wednesday but I need to wait a couple of days in case I get called up for The Chase as I’m still on the shortlist.
Carole popped round with the application form for the dog boarding licence. I had to look up all the terms and conditions of the internet so I knew what I was signing for. I couldn’t’ believe this list of things you had to have – smoke alarms, a friend or neighbour with keys, a pet first aid kit, a clean house (!), insurance, the works. There were pages of it. I’m pretty sure I’ve covered everything but I’m sure if they wanted to find something, they could especially as I’m definitely not the world’s best housekeeper. I’m sure it’s all designed to stop unscrupulous people boarding six dogs in one room, but it does seem a bit over the top.
Carole had spoken to people at another agency about the man who caused the trouble in the first place. Apparently his dog doesn’t just need to go out in the middle of the night, it’s also incontinent.
I’m  a great worrier when it comes to following the letter of the law so I’ll be glad when the inspection is over.
The entries for the NAWG last line short story competition arrived today and I’ve made a start reading them. So far I’m very impressed with the variety of plots especially as the last line the entrants are lumbered with is this
        nobody steals my pumpkin.
I was going to go to the Writers Club tonight but the weather, hail stones and rain, has conspired to put me off. Plus I seem to have hurt my back. I’m hobbling about like an old crone.

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