For some reason I wasn't
feeling one hundred per cent this morning. Some days are better than
others, and this morning wasn't one of the good ones. For all that I
was having a grumble it was good to see the most recent fruit of my
loin. It seemed odd not seeing her over the weekend.
There
is only so much sulking that one can do, and I got my paints out.
I've got the offer of running a stall at a craft
fair on Sunday,
and so I thought I'd put together some smaller paintings that might
be more likely to be snapped up by the punters. I quite had the muse
on me as I got going, and I painted for over three hours. With eight
small paintings done I was quite pleased with the morning's efforts.
It's a shame that the photos don't do justice to the paintings. But
then photos of paintings rarely do.
"My
Boy TM"
and Cheryl popped in. They'd been to the dentist, and were squabbling
about fishing trips and EuroDisney. And once they'd set off on their
way I watched the second half of the documentary about Hitler that
I'd started watching last week. And I fell asleep during it. I hate
that. I woke up to see it was raining; so I made a quick dash outside
to get the laundry in. Bearing in mind how good the weather was this
morning, I'd had a vague idea to pootle in the garden for the
afternoon. But rain put paid to that idea. Which was a shame. Instead
I got literary and wrote another seven thousand words of novel. It's
now over thirty thousand words long. I really need to go back to the
plan and write paragraphs which are in keeping with the story. Rather
than randomly writing what seems a good idea at the time and popping
it in.
I then wrote the review below for basketball tickets. It's not an especially loquacious article; perhaps I could have done better. But I only had three days to respond to the advertiser; and having been working for the last two days, I think I did leave checking my emails to the last minute. I really must make a point of checking them more often. I then did some more surveys and applied for more advertising commissions. Something might come of it. One lives in hope.
My mobile rang. There was
no caller number displayed. And no one on the other end. I hung up,
and the same think happened with the house phone. No called I.D., no
one on the other end. I wonder what that was all about? I'm
suspecting the worst.... It's odd how a missed phone call can set me
worrying....
And then the
Folkestonians visited. Which was good. For all that I like having
non-working days in the week, they can get lonely at times...
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