Getting there
So,it's Easter Bank Holiday Monday, is it? And of course this weekend is the traditional gardening weekend and, of course, I didn't do any.
It looks, though, that my friend who helped me last year is going to be staying with me for a few weeks soon, as she's coming back from Spain, again, to earn some money. She's willing to do some work for her bed and board - an excellent state of affairs. God knows I need the help.
Yesterday I set-to with a will to work on my Spangel story, Taking the Initiative which I would really like to get finished and posted. I did, indeed, add around 700 words, unfortunately within what was already written. I was reading through it from the beginning to get the feel of the story and get myself in the right frame of mind but spent all afternoon changing sentences, words and structure and just adding bits to the scenes already there.
I'm confident that it's improved(for one thing, I noticed that I'd had 'dowsing' instead of 'dousing'!) but it would have been nice to have had 600 words at the end, carrying the story forward, and not just adding details to what I'd written previously.
I was listening to an absolutely brilliant radio play last night called I Love Stephen Fry about a woman whose marriage is growing stale and boring and fancies herself in love with Mr Fry. As I would be willing to marry the man tomorrow, I could quite sympathise - and I love him even more because he actually played himself. That must have seemed a bit weird.
In one scene, at a book-signing where she declares her love to Stephen, her husband barrels up and says his piece, finishing with something along the lines of:
"After all, she doesn't even know you. You're just that gay guy off the telly. Er, that is, I mean, I'm sorry..."
Fry: "Please, don't apologise. After all, it's not insulting to describe a man as being gay and being off the telly, while crass, is merely factual."
I caught up with Kingdom, the other day, which I recorded a couple of weeks or so ago. Unfortunately I didn't set the recording of the entire series so I had only two episodes. What a wonderful piece of television. Of course, it was so good it was cancelled. I have to get my hands on the DVDs when I get some money to spare.
Oh, and Sheba came back. Two days is the longest she goes without paying a visit; so much for having a home to go to. She is so affectionate and confident though - she'll let me pick her up and often the first I know about her being there is having her head-butt my leg, imperious little bugger. She must have a home close-by. I just wish she'd do all her eating there.
It looks, though, that my friend who helped me last year is going to be staying with me for a few weeks soon, as she's coming back from Spain, again, to earn some money. She's willing to do some work for her bed and board - an excellent state of affairs. God knows I need the help.
Yesterday I set-to with a will to work on my Spangel story, Taking the Initiative which I would really like to get finished and posted. I did, indeed, add around 700 words, unfortunately within what was already written. I was reading through it from the beginning to get the feel of the story and get myself in the right frame of mind but spent all afternoon changing sentences, words and structure and just adding bits to the scenes already there.
I'm confident that it's improved(for one thing, I noticed that I'd had 'dowsing' instead of 'dousing'!) but it would have been nice to have had 600 words at the end, carrying the story forward, and not just adding details to what I'd written previously.
I was listening to an absolutely brilliant radio play last night called I Love Stephen Fry about a woman whose marriage is growing stale and boring and fancies herself in love with Mr Fry. As I would be willing to marry the man tomorrow, I could quite sympathise - and I love him even more because he actually played himself. That must have seemed a bit weird.
In one scene, at a book-signing where she declares her love to Stephen, her husband barrels up and says his piece, finishing with something along the lines of:
"After all, she doesn't even know you. You're just that gay guy off the telly. Er, that is, I mean, I'm sorry..."
Fry: "Please, don't apologise. After all, it's not insulting to describe a man as being gay and being off the telly, while crass, is merely factual."
I caught up with Kingdom, the other day, which I recorded a couple of weeks or so ago. Unfortunately I didn't set the recording of the entire series so I had only two episodes. What a wonderful piece of television. Of course, it was so good it was cancelled. I have to get my hands on the DVDs when I get some money to spare.
Oh, and Sheba came back. Two days is the longest she goes without paying a visit; so much for having a home to go to. She is so affectionate and confident though - she'll let me pick her up and often the first I know about her being there is having her head-butt my leg, imperious little bugger. She must have a home close-by. I just wish she'd do all her eating there.