General Musings

Beau the psycho pup is being quiet... he's wandered off so technically I should get up and go and see what he's doing, but instead I'm here. Writing about nothing. I should also be working on The Barbarians' Key, the third book in the Power of Malinas trilogy. I should be working on it... but I'm not.

Instead I'm messing about online and pondering my likes and dislikes.

• I like chocolate brownies. Especially home made gooey ones.
• I like frilly tops and shoes with bows on.
• I like biscuits. Any biscuits. Apart from ginger nuts.
• I like gardening.
• I like eating. 
• I like sleeping.
• I like it when Beau is sleeping and I can write nonsensical blog posts which nobody will read.
• I like it when people say my writing is fantastic
• I like rats.
• I like Ben Barnes.
• I like really weird music. The weirder the better. Strange instruments are the best.
• I like Hayao Miyazaki. But not in that way.

 What I do not like:

• Cheese.
• Wine. Well, any alcohol really, but wine especially.
• Drunk people.
• Coriander.
• Baby carrots.
• Babies crying.
• Poor grammar.
• Beau eating my shoes.
• Monobrows.

I'm sure there is a lot more in both categories, but really, I can't be arsed to write any more. I'll finish with my favourite joke.

What's the boss of the hankies called?

The hanky-chief.

In the words of Samwise Gamgee: Get off the road!

Seriously, tractors, bikes, horses, cows, chicken chasers... Basically anything slower than me, should get the hell off the road. I'm trying to drive here, people!

I drive a Rover. As anybody who drives a Rover will know, we lack the ability to accelerate. Therefore, unless we have a long run up, overtaking is difficult. I do not appreciate being stuck behind something slow moving because I can't put my foot down to get past it.

I need a sign in the back of my car. "Warning: no acceleration." I swear people think I'm driving slowly on purpose. You should see the looks I get.

The looks I get when driving through a couple of my local towns when I'm playing my music loudly is also worth a mention. Because they're great. The look of total confusion on the people's faces when they hear the 1950s version of 'In da club,' or the 1920s version of 'sex bomb' or even the operatic thrash metal of Diablo Swing Orchestra, or the good old fashioned classical Waltz played extremely loudly, is hilarious. 

What is this? No R&B? No drum and bass? No dance music or cheesy pop? I can hear... what's that? Violins? Washboards?! An accordion??

I once got out of my car and had a guy ask me for a light. When I said I didn't have one, he called me a liar. "You can't listen to music like that and not have a light."

I'm not quite sure what he was getting at.

Beauregard

Beauregard, AKA Beau, Beau-dog, Bodelay, Beau Jangles, Bo-face, Poodlehead, LeBeau, Git and Little Sod, is my Jack Russell cross Poodle puppy.

He's smart but God he's annoying sometimes! Puppy classes for us! I can't write a longer blog about the ins and outs of a jackapoo because I currently have one sleeping on my feet and I need to somehow remove him so that I can get up to pee. But, I will post a photo.

Spread the cuteness.

Stuff... and that.

I feel like I should be writing. I've had Beau, the pup, for just over a week now. I'm existing on very little sleep. My life revolves around when the pup sleeps. When he sleeps I can get things done.

He's sleeping now.

And I'm not doing anything productive. My head's got that 'writer' thing going on. I can feel it. Half formed sentences and ideas keep drifting into my brain and then drifting out again. I should be working on my third novel. Or a short story. Or a poem even. I should be submitting stories to magazines or chasing things already submitted. I should be doing something.

I'm listening to the radio and getting distracted by songs that aren't even very good. I'm dancing as there's nobody home.

It's possible that I've gone a bit mad.

In other news, I went to Hampton Court Palace flower show on Sunday and someone stole my camera. I hope they're very happy with it.

Actually, I hope they take a self portrait and the camera steals their soul.