I had to get up early this morning in case the British Gas engineer arrived early. In the end he came at eleven. It turned out to be a washer that had died. Quite a relief as I’d rather not have to fork out for a new boiler.
He’d just gone when Christine came round to tell me that one of her greyhounds (that I’ve looked after a couple of times) had died, and that within 24 hours she’d also lost a close friend to cancer. She wanted to know if I could look after the remaining dog if she went to the funeral. The problem is she doesn’t have a date yet and Louis, my favourite Labrador, arrives on the 1st of October. If necessary, I can work something out I’m sure.
I chased the fiction editor at The Weekly News yesterday about the stories I had outstanding and she’s just replied to me and bought three of them. Now all I need is for Norah McGrath of Take a break fame to buy four and I can relax on my laurels for a week.
Now to get organised. I’m going away for the weekend, it’s just one night, more’s the pity. I’m going to outline plan my next writing book on the coach, at least that’s the idea. I won’t be writing the blog for a couple of days as I’m still laptop less. One day, when they’re just a tiny bit cheaper…
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