Has Storm Christoph hit you yet?
We’ve got the tail of it, or maybe the fingernails or split ends, but it’s still lashing the windows and sending the yew tree into a spin and the rooks in next door’s ash tree huddling for cover.
I love the wind but I’m not too keen on the rain. I’ve abandoned a day in The Shed of Dreams for a nest on the sofa. I didn’t fancy getting soaked on the short walk to my writing den and my dogs didn’t, either.
I’ve got my laptop on my knee, pen and paper by my side and books for the interval. I’m going to spend the day writing creatively, as well as copy editing for the Somerset and Dorset Family History Society magazine, compiling the Lush Places parish newsletter and penning my weekly column for The People’s Friend.
There’s a freshly brewed cup of Miles loose leaf tea on the side and Ruby at my feet.
I’m going for it.
And then Mr Grigg announces from the kitchen table that he’s bidding online for furniture from Lawrences, our local (and best) auction house.
Which is fine but he’s in a blooming two-way shouting conversation with Mr Brogue Boots on the phone, who is also bidding for stuff. It seems they’re trying to establish a co-ordinated approach.
It’s like a game of happy families.
‘I’ll give you the gilt mirror if you let me bid for the tall chest of drawers.’
‘But how will I know when you’ve stopped bidding? I might be happy to pay more than you would.’
For goodness sake, chaps, get your blooming act together.
So on go the headphones and loud ambient music by Polynation with plenty of bass. This may affect my writing but to hell with it, needs must.
That’s about it.
Love Maddie x
