Between the showers

Friday

A most horrendous trip out this morning. I heard the thunder directly overhead when I was in the shower and in the spare room bathroom, which has a flat roof, it was as if someone was emptying buckets of water down from the sky. I wouldn’t have voluntarily gone out on a day like this, but I had to take M to the hospital for dressings. A fifteen minute trip took half an hour, as I crawled along at 20 mph in the middle of the road, trying to avoid lakes of water inches deep, throwing up great swathes of water on either side at times. I hear on the radio that many roads are closed in the south. The nurse was rather dithery, but M’s had his toes re-dressed and I’ll have to do it for the next few days.

Last week I went to a meeting of the reading circle. We’d been reading Pride and Prejudice. The majority of us loved returning to it. Coincidentally, yesterday, I heard that 17 out of 18 publishers rejected it when a slightly adulterated version was sent to them, purporting to be a new novel.

Later today, when checking my emails, I found one from a journalist at the Evening Standard, asking if I’d like to comment on an article in tonight’s Standard regarding the Pride and Prejudice episode. He wanted a reply by 6.00 pm, and it was already just after five. Stupidly I gave my comments and then asked to see the article. Stupid, because he’d already sent it to me – I just hadn’t noticed. Then I made some more comments and sent them at 5.57, congratulating myself on getting in under the wire. Five minutes later, I looked again, and realised to my horror that I’d sent the email to myself. Doubly stupid. So whether my words of wisdom will get into Monday’s paper remains to be seen. It was flattering, though, to be asked – on the basis of a letter I wrote to the Standard early in 2006.

I’ve been asked to help promote www.toowrite.com/youngwriters - a web-based competition open to writers aged 16 and under. It's free to enter and all stories are published instantly.

The winner of the aged 10 and under category will win their height in children's books. In the 11-13-year-old category the prize is the length of the winner's foot in CDs, and in the 14-16-year-old category the winner will receive their age in DVDs.

Entrants can submit up to five true or fictional short stories that are no longer than 1,500 words.

Visitors to the site are invited to vote for their favourite stories. A shortlist of the 10 most popular entries from each category will be drawn up and the three winners will be based on the quality of the writing.

They have a mirror site for adults too, called www.toowrite.com which offers a £1,000 first prize. I’ll be having a look at that when things have calmed down in the Luben abode.

Monday

Since Friday, the horrendous flooding is front page news and my trip out on Friday morning is trivial compared with what people are having to endure in the Midlands, Wales, Gloucestershire, etc. Now we hear that the flooding will reach Oxfordshire, soon. This is like a monsoon, only instead of rice fields being swept away, it is people’s brick built homes that are being invaded and their carpets, TVs, fridges and food and drink that’s being destroyed. It is no less tragic for people, though, who have built up homes over a life time.

The latest episode of my tooth saga is that the temporary filling proved very temporary, and fell out after an encounter with a corn-flake on Saturday morning. The dentist is scheduled for tomorrow. He’s off on holiday on Wednesday – I think he’s going away to escape me. He’s seen more of me in the last four months than in the previous four years.

M & I acted as host and hostess at a party at our house for a group that we’re involved with. This meant non-stop cooking and preparing on Sunday, plus two emergency trips to the shops – one on Sunday and one on Saturday, when I bought cream, strawberries, napkins and things I’d forgotten earlier. In the end, there was miles too much food, and we spent an hour and a half finding homes for the surplus in the freezer. It was a very good party, and remarkably we were able to sit out before it got too cold. It wouldn’t, of course, have been remarkable in another year. Two years ago, M was sitting out in the garden at ten in the evening, when a group of hornets appeared on the scene. But this year, we have had the heating on at least half a dozen times, during either June or July.

I was so tired today, that I forgot completely about buying an Evening Standard to see if I’d made an appearance in their article. That despite a quick trip to Knaphill to buy additional dressings for M’s toes. They are still sore, but tomorrow he will see the doctor. He was very frustrated at staying home, so we did some invoicing, which made him feel at least that something useful was happening. Now after the busy weekend, I’m once again behind with washing, ironing, tidying up kitchen and paperwork, though I have sent off my tax return to the accountant. When I’ve sorted out the mess, it’ll be time for the VAT. And tonight I volunteered to do a short newsletter for the above-mentioned group. Bad mistake. I shall regret it, without a doubt.