The weather is getting a bit silly now, those appalling temperatures in America and the rain and high winds over this way...we had little sleep last night with rain lashing against the windowpanes...sounded as though there was a small tribe of hobgoblins throwing pebbles at the glass...I kept wondering whether it was worth the effort to get up and make a hot drink but then I've have needed another pee...so I didn't bother.
Before attempting sleep I'd gobbled the last chapter of a thriller I've been reading...it was excellent all the way through actually but the ending didn't make any sense...just how did Tessa end up dead in the river...and apparently dead for several days...when in the previous chapter she'd been walking along the road towards home...all the baddies had been dispensed with so none of them had crept up on her...
So I lay there thinking it through...and couldn't reach a satisfactory conclusion other than the author was fed up to the back teeth with Tessa...she was quite self-absorbed after all...and just drowned her to get rid of her...
Had a look on Amazon this afternoon and found the brand new Donna Tartt novel...Goldfinch...it was only 2.99 so I'll have that to read later.
Himself brought my sewing machine up to the cottage this morning...I'd been going to try and wake myself up by doing something but failed miserably...couldn't concentrate for longer than a minute or two at a time. I'll have to go back to the surgery on Thursday...the magic pills just haven't worked. I'll take the last ones tomorrow but it'd be a miracle if they kicked in at this late stage.
I remember what I was going to tell you now...you know Tom's bull...the one who is wicked and keeps escaping? He got his great old head caught between the bars of the silage feeder the other day...poor old chap...and he was walking about with this thing round his neck while his cows stood there looking at him with their mouths open. Silage feeders are made of a light steel piping in a circular shape...there are big enough gaps between the bars for the cattle to get their heads through in comfort to eat but the bull shoved his head in and it wouldn't come out again.
So Tom and one of his sons had to tie ropes to two tractors to pull the bars apart enough for the bull to get free...Tom's language when he's happy is enough to make your toes curl...when he's cross it'd put a navvy to shame, so Himself...a witness to this going on...slunk away quietly and left them to it.
Someone left twenty-four assorted horses and ponies in forestry land not far from us over the weekend...an appeal went out on the local radio for anyone who fancied a free equine to please go and choose one...or two. A case of you catch it, you can have it. The Government have stopped the headage payment now so many people are struggling to get rid of horses they can't afford to keep...dumping them into the many forestry plantations seems to be the answer.
Having once spent a memorable boiling hot summers day trawling through a plantation in search of seven donkeys accompanied by a dozy bat from the donkey rescue place who was as useless as a wet paper bag...I didn't immediately volunteer to go after straying horses.
She drove one of those incredibly expensive 4x4's plastered with donkey rescue logos and didn't even have a feckin' bit of rope or a head collar, never mind a bag of carrots as bribery...and she was wearing spotless white runners. And she wouldn't go and talk to the forestry workers...said they looked a bit iffy. They were only sitting on a log having their dinner. And she has the most stupid name ever. But she did get ticks on her ankles and I was ever so pleased...
I could never write a book you know...I'd be hauled before the judge before the ink was dry accused of libel and slander and everything in between...I don't think it makes a difference if it's actually true. Might have to look that up and see...or get a dodgy and sharp lawyer first.
We used to have an Accountant you know...back in the days when we were self-employed. No computers then, so you needed to physically keep every single last receipt...as I had as much idea about keeping books as I do about deep space exploration I just shoved everything into plastic bags and hoped for the best. The first time we loaded the car with bills and cheques and receipts for everything under the sun I was seriously worried about what the accountant would say. No need, he had the tiniest office you've ever seen...no more than a very small broom cupboard really...and I swear every surface was simply crammed with other peoples plastic carrier bags bulging with their receipts etc...the floor was a danger zone...his desk was barely visible and there were so many bags piled on the small windowsill you could barely see daylight.
He was sort of crouched behind his desk with half-moon specs on the end of his nose...clutching a mug of Bovril and sniffling...'Put them there' he said...'It'll be sorted'...then he waved his hands at us in dismissal and the next time we had any contact at all was when he sent a modest bill for his services...we paid no tax that year. In fact, we paid twenty pounds sterling the following year and after that...nothing at all.
Couldn't possibly put him in a book...everyone would want to know who he is...or was.