Ha! Have finally started new 'Joe's Nan' buch, called (after mucho thought, well, ten minutes, and it is a bit about a dog, well, there's a dog in it): Joe's Dog. Huzzah for me, eh?
Admittedly only 4 pages in but is mucho relieving to get going again.
I've beem emming and awwing about whether to write another one for aeons now cos still no definitive word from Ms. Reid. But finally decided, bugger it, I fancy writing another one anyhow. AND it will save me moping about the house with a face like the dog died (me, that is, not the house - didn't use the Oxford comma there, sorry).
My sister reckons they grow the most apples in China. I don't think they have the same apples as us tho'; the only one I ever tasted was more of a pear; and you can't have an 'apple' that tastes like a 'pear', can you now: makes a mockery of the phrase 'like comparing apples and pears'.
Having just written the above, I think the phrase is: 'like comparing apples and oranges'.
James II and young Dan are recording vocals in the bedroom with MF in Mission Control mode. The windows and back door are draped in duvets and the better part of my cardigan collection. The room is boiling, humidity high and the smell could be bottled and labelled: 'Midnight in King's Cross'.
When they finally finish, there's going to be some open doors and windows and plenty of the old 'power of Christ compels you' to dispel the miasmas.
Am going for a short troll along the front of the estate tomorrow with Esther and Henry (the dog). I expect to be also accompanied by MF, Connie Brix (my dog) and my sholley. We will no doubt bump into Melvis and Miss Gladiola. All we need is the kids from the cake shop to turn up and we'll look like a 'cutting-room floor' slow motion from Oliver.
Dog, dog for sale! Going cheap, only seven guineas!
p.s. don't really know what this blog was about