I’ve spent most of today staring at my computer screen, trying not to bash my head against it repeatedly.
The only thing worse than writer’s block is editing block.
I went for a head-clearing walk and found the most gorgeous navy blue silk square with white polka dots in my favourite local vintage dress agency, The Wardrobe. My favourite navy scarf is falling to bits, so this will be my new hero accessory.
Mel, the lovely proprietor, gave me a generous donation for the Save Ecclesbourne Glen campaign.
For the past five years I have been nagging my Australian-passported husband, who lives in the UK on a ‘right to remain’ visa, to go for his citizenship.
If the ghastly UKIP get as many seats at the general election next year as people are starting to fear, the immigration laws could change terrifyingly. I don’t want him to be transported.
He has to do a Life in the UK test to make sure he knows when Bonfire Night is and what year the Magna Carta was signed and he’s had a weird mental block about it.
On Sunday afternoon I downloaded an app of practice tests. He immediately became addicted and clocked his first 100% by 2pm the next day.
He’s now sitting next door obsessively going through a whole book of trial tests. So far he’s scored sixteen 100% scores out of seventeen tests.
This is why I call him Mr All or Nothing.
He has a new work contract so I now have to take our daughter to her Tuesday night gym training which used to be his job.
To pass the hour and a half (not long enough to go home, too long to sit and wait…) I went to Sainsburys and read Private Eye standing up.
Craig Brown’s satire of Oprah Winfrey made me cry laughing. ‘This I know to be true.’
The shop was deserted like a scene from a zombie movie, just before the zombies get there, and I was wearing leather-soled shoes, so it was perfect trolley slide conditions.
That’s where you get up speed with a little run and then let the trolley pull you along the aisle.
I hope someone was watching the CCTV.