The poet was back from his almost-week-long business trip (yay!), but he had his usual Friday morning meetings via Teams, so I had to find something to do that (a) was quiet, (b) didn’t require much concentration, of (c) could be done with my earphones in. I was awaiting a delivery, so kept half an eye on the tracker.
I had a quick look around the new writing community I joined this week, then I revived another one I haven’t been active in for many years. There was one story of mine on there still, with loads and loads of comments. As it was so long ago, I read the comments, digested them, and deleted the story. It’s been published since then, so it shouldn’t be on there anyway.
Moving forward, when I finally get into the proper swing of writing a story over several weeks, I might start posting them to both places for comment, and, of course, I’ll be restarting my 12 Stories in 12 Months in January, as it was so successful at getting me to write and finish new material.
As the poet was on another Teams call (despite Teams being down in much of the UK, apparently), I did some more housekeeping. First on MeWe (now empty), then CounterSocial (we can only delete 30 at a time), then Twitter, and then Facebook.
Over dinner, I caught up on blogs and I entered a few competitions. Right after dinner, I went through our last will and testaments and lasting power of attorneys and used sticky tabs to depict where we have to sign and where our witnesses have to sign. Monkey Dust had a gig Friday night, and we’d asked two members to be our witnesses.
I turned around a quick editing job, then raised and sent the invoice for the additional material on the nasty job I submitted the other week. And I did my weekly backup.
I spent a lot of time trying to work out how to backup three Kindle books that aren’t opening in my older version of Kindle for PC. But I gave up on that in the end. I’ll try and read them all next (one is an 8-book collection), but I’m annoyed that Amazon seems to be leaning towards not allowing anyone to backup their library. Yet another strike.
Then I faffed for a bit because we had an early finish due to the gig. We went and got a quick takeaway, then I dropped the poet off at the venue, armed with our wills and lasting powers of attorney. We did the signing, our witnesses did the signing, then I went home to have another hour with the dog before heading back.
Saturday morning the dog was at the vet, so that was an early start for us. Saturday afternoon, I did the meal plan and the shopping list, and we went shopping. I was delighted when the weekly bill came in at £60 under budget. And folk truly do believe that cooking from scratch and eating healthily is expensive.
I started to get the signs of another cold after tea on Saturday and I had a rubbish night, and on Sunday the poet baked, while I chilled, we went to visit his mother, and he made our Sunday dinner.
I have a lot to do today, diary wise. The dog’s back at the vet again on Thursday morning for another blood test, so I have to plan the week around that. I also have a novella to write and a history book to edit this week.
The Secret of Whitehorse Farm