How kind are some people?
The lovely folk over at AOS have put my book on their blog's list of ten for this month. If enough people vote for it I could get a professional review after all!

Not a lot to blog about this time. Read another couple of Ian Rankin's Rebus series. Great stuff!
I've been trying serious poetry. Specifically sonnets. Watch the site, once I'm happy with them I'll post a few up here.

If you do want to vote for SDMW  - here's the link.
Today, for your entertainment, I shall keep a diary to log the excitement of
my daily life.


I climbed out of bed reluctantly at 5.30am, and groped my way to the shower.
(My eyes don't function at that time in the morning.) Emerging from the
bathroom (in yellow fluffy bathrobe), my beloved husband handed me a cup of
coffee and a bowl of Weetabix. The coffee was gorgeous; we'll gloss over the
cereal on the grounds that beggars can't be choosers. I ate my breakfast in
front of breakfast TV. (Dear Lord, whoever thought of that idea? They should
be shot.) Then the fun began. The highlight of my morning is taking my
'meds'. First, I inject 52 Units of Insulin into any "fatty" area of my
body. At least I have no shortage of sites to choose from; it all depends on
how much twisting I want to do. This morning I chose my right thigh which
has been somewhat neglected of late. This also meant I could remain seated.
By this time we'd switched to Fox News where some guy was slagging off
President Obama. I have a real problem with the fact that I think Barack
Obama is very tasty and I don't think politicians should be. Anyway, then I
lined up the tablets : anticoagulants, ace inhibitors, beta blockers,
diuretics, metformin and the lovely little capsule that stops all this lot
damaging my stomach lining! I washed it all down with a soluble aspirin,
dissolved (out of sheer devilment) in diet pepsi, and wondered for the
umpteenth time how many beta blockers it would take to put me out of my

I have now been sitting for an hour waiting for the phone to ring. My CRB
and passport are in my handbag along with the agency's 'photo ID' badge. My
'schoolbag' is packed with timesheets and other garbage to make it look like
I have a purpose. If the call comes through, my trusty assistant will make a
cheese sandwich for my lunch and throw it into my bag with the last
remaining apple and two teabags, while I find out where I'm going and and
access the online bus timetables. However, the later it gets, the less
likely it is that Laurence or Dave (my rival pimps) will call, so by 9.30 I
could be sitting here thinking that I could have spent 4 more hours in bed
and still been up quite early!

The Lunchtime Update.  

No calls were forthcoming this morning. Around 9.30, when I had given up hope for the day, I glanced across at my cell-mate,(I mean 'soul mate') and realised that he was falling asleep in his chair. Drastic measures were called for so I suggested that we should go out.
"Where to?"
"We could go and visit Uncle Frank."
"But it's two buses."
"I know, but we have all day and even on 2 buses it's only an hour away."
"Why today?"
"Because I haven't got any work, because we told him we'd go soon and that was a month ago, because Auntie Barb makes a great cuppa...."  I wanted to go on about how Uncle Frank makes me laugh because he's so witty and how he reminds me of Dad and how well we all get on, but the glazed over eyes told me I was fighting a losing battle.  

"We" decided to settle for Sainsbury's and a walk in the park, but halfway to the High Street, we passed the corner shop and they had a special offer on tins of corned beef, rendering Sainsbury's unnecessary. The park was also made redundant by the cold breeze. (He worries about my health when the weather's cold, bless him. How would I cope if I had no-one to look after me?)   Back home once more, away from the dangers of the outside world I made tea and toast for elevenses and he went to bed for a rest. I checked in on Authonomy and saw that the same arrogant fools were dominating the forum and that my mojo is still not working, so I decided to continue my 'diary'. Who knows, maybe one day when I die of boredom, these ramblings will serve as an explanation - maybe even a warning for future generations.  


Well, there was no work, and if I gave you a detailed account of the afternoon I don't think you would cope with the excitement. At one point, it was so thrilling I was tempted to pour water on the front path and watch it dry. I resisted the urge and feel stronger for having done so.
Tomorrow is a mystery, I shall get up and await the elusive phone call again but if I don't get one I have decided to create my own adventure.
I bought a bus pass this week and I'm damn well going to use it. I shall catch the bus down to Cannon Hill Park tomorrow evening and watch several women I know, including my own daughter, taking part in the Race for Life to raise money for Cancer research.
This is a great thing to do, and I wish I was fit enough to join them. Especially as cancer has impacted on the lives of people that I love and have loved.
As I watch the race I shall be thinking of my mother and my father-in-law who both died of cancer.

Above all, I shall be thanking God for my sister who is recovering from a mastectomy.

Jeez !  - And all I've got to complain about is boredom?