Sunday, Bloody Sunday

A non-event of a day, since the OH, or the OM, whichever you prefer went off to an unfinished job, before I was even out of bed this morning.

Chaos reigned when I got up, the dishwasher had to be emptied and last night's additional bits of washing up, washed up.

I did managed to have an uninterrupted listen to the Archers and ponder on the unlikely love affair between Ruth and Sam. I also finished off re-edits of my latest story entry for Writers' News and put it ready for posting tomorrow. No more luxury of unfolded sheets that now qualify as a 'large letter'. Extravagances such as that will only be reserved for the first three chapters of my novel when it's ready for another excursion into the wilds.

It was pouring with rain all day, which was a shame, because yesterday was such a beautiful autumn day and I didn't go out. I was tempted to collect some apples in, because they are now rosy and beautiful. I am accruing packs of stewed apple in the freezer. Very useful later on in the year, when I need a speedy dessert. The view from the window is not quite as good as some years, when the berberis has been a brilliant shade of red. Too much rain recently, and so the two or three shrubs are dark in colour. But the copper beech is magnificent.

As part of my resolution to try out several things, I reviewed some chapters on the Youwriteon website, and will at some time upload my own chapters. Not being on broadband yet, this is a costly exercise. I am waiting for my neighbour's teething problems to be resolved, before I subject myself to this. We think our overhead cables may be a problem. That's the problem with living in a wood.