I thought that today might be a productive kind of day. Emma had to go to work this morning and then be on call for the rest of the weekend, so it was always going to be the quieter kind of around-the-house kind of time. To this end, I got up with Emma, and made breakfast before she headed off to work, but then I kind of remained on the sofa for a bit longer doing a bit of Open Day-relatated social mediaing. And then the rain started, so I had went and showered dressed and headed out to feed the chickens and the bunnies. Even though I had my waterproofs on by the time I came in the rain had  been so heavy I was wet through. There was also a text waiting for me from Emma suggesting that, in this weather, it was maybe best if I didn’t do the cycle Tour de Bicester to go to the butchers and get veg from the market.

By the time Emma got back from work it was actually clearing up, but she came with to Launton and town anyway. I love it now, when I pitch up the butchers towards closing time on a Saturday, Lotte and John know in the butchers that I haven’t been in yet, and also what it is I’m likely to be wanting and so haven’t put it away yet.

Because it was getting late we got scrummy things for lunch Nash’s bakery, and had a late lunch. I wanted to spend time sorting out my novel for the unsolicited submission month at Jonathon Cape, and read some more of my book, but instead spent more time than is healthy for me trying to persuade my 4½-year old laptop to access the internet with the same speed that our Kindles do. I hate computers when they don’t do what I want them to do when I want them to. They are fantastic tools when they are doing the job in hand, but otherwise they are a pain in the bleedin’, soddin’ kneck… *mutter mutter grumble grumble*

I did do *something* to make the laptop situation improved, I think (maybe, possibly, in a fair wind…) so put it away (in possibly a small amount of a strop), made a nice pot of tea and sat out in the garden to read some of Alan Garner’s The Voice of Thunder. This is a book of essays/lectures he has given over the years about his writing, work, and research and is for the most part really accessible (I had been concerned that it might be, as sometimes his novels can be, although technically brilliant, a bit on the confusing side). I shall be reviewing this soon, maybe this week.

So dinner, spaghetti bolognaise – Emma’s favourite on-call meal – was a bit late. We caught up Friday’s Springwatch Unsprung, and Episodes, and that, was about it. So I did salvage something from a wet and frustrating day.

Originally published at shepline: the journal. You can comment here or there.