I’ve been a right old Grotbags this week. After the excitement of an imminent offer on our house at the end of last week which failed to materialise after our prospective buyer’s sale fell through, it was back to the trauma of showing folks round. ‘Oh, we’re cool about the social housing opposite,’ say the latest couple. I point out that the ‘social’ houses are affordable homes for key workers namely one teacher, one deputy head and a local government officer, but I can see they’re not convinced. A little later the estate agent phones to tell me that the couple like the house but ‘can’t say’ why it’s not for them. Well, I can. People, do your homework first and get real! The fact is that even in this part of the world you will not get a house this size and six acres of land in the middle of nowhere unless you have a much bigger budget or a time machine. Grrr!
Key worker homes are out then. But what about chickens? Surely it’s nice to have a few chickens in the garden? Well, yes – but not if the chickens don’t belong to you. Next-door’s hens have worked out that there’s a gap in the wire which leads to the paradise that is our garden. Whilst I don’t mind a few hens clucking about the place, Tom absolutely loathes them. But what I’m not terribly keen on is the amount of chicken-poo piling up around the place. I particularly don’t like it when I scoop some up on my skipping rope whilst having a little work out. Skipping is quite enough exercise on its own so I can do without the extra excitement of dodging flying chicken muck.
And talking of poo, I’m currently at that really horrid stage with novel#2 when it feels like our wormery. You add lots of good ingredients in anticipation of a glorious end product and forget you have to go through the stage where all you’ve got is the most disgusting mess. The only answer is to keep the process going. Sooner or later some alchemy starts to work and you get a tiny glimpse of magic and, in my case, cheer up immediately and feel wonderful. So, for Tom’s sake, I’d better get back to it...
Before I go we’re blogging on the subject of research over at Choc Lit’s Author Corner this week for anyone who’s ever wondered what you have to do to make your book feel real!
Painting is 'Coast near Dinas' by Tom Tomos
Comments
Thank you for popping by to my blog recently I do appreciate it and thank you for your lovely comments.
CKx
I can empathise over the chicken poo, except in our case is the farm cats who have discovered that the playbark under the swings and slide makes a perfect litter tray. At least you've got the possibility of free eggs from your poopers!
As for the novel Hemingway said his were always sh*t for the first draft, so you're in excellent company. To get gorgeous blooms you need good old manure!
How frustrating about the offer. People are very strange when they view houses aren't they - brings out the worst in people's social aspirations!
I sympathise with the chicken poo thing - but you do make me laugh Chris! Hope some creative juices are flowing today.
Jeanne x
I have the chicken poo under control but why are the sheep currently at home in the field so keen to break into the hen pen. Reassembling an electric fence in rain at twilight is not fun.
Maybe your neighbors can fix that chicken fence?
Please pass along more compliments to Tom on another fine picture.
xo
Poor you having chicken poo on your skipping rope. Naughty pooey chickens.
Off to see the Author blog now.
As for the house sale, with my Mystic Meg hat on, I'll just say Expect the Unexpected. ((cue Enigmatic Expression and Knowing Wink))
Off to check how to make my book real. Currently, the only 'real' thing about my book is that I'm with the (hypothetical, at this stage) reader, in that I haven't a clue what the ending's going to be. Hope they're gonna be able to help me out here... ;-]
Well, Mrs Commando, it's a tad draughty on this side of the Preseli so I'll be keeping my drawers on. Sooo hope you are right about sh*t first draughts!
Jeanne, good to see you fresh from your break. I do love your Monday poetry - it's a treat to start the week.
Mountainear - I wonder why the sheep want to get in with the hens? But, mending fences at twilight sounds as unattractive as flying chicken muck - so that's sheep off my list too!
Helen, thank you - I'm in a better mood tonight. I think it's called Tesco Cheapo Winebox!
Frances - they got half way along with the fence then gave up. To be fair it fooled the chickens for quite a long time... although the dog saw through it pretty quickly. But that's another story!
Pondside - you keep tempting us with the offer a bench to sit on and a lovely view. Much more soothing than berludy timewasters that's for sure.
Fp, thanks for sharing the book pains! It's amazing how many things you can think of that need doing when you're in the sticky bit. Had a good day today though!
Debs, I'm very consoled by the thought of how long it took you to sell. So many of the viewers have such unrealistic expectations of what they'll get for their money it just leads to disappointment all round. Be nice to think that sooner or later it will fall into place.
Brown Dog - yes definitely a case of too much B.E.F (Beady Eye Factor according to the Cute Overload glossary... although that doesn't sound very cute to me). And such good news on the Mystic Meg front... do you think that falling chicken mucy is lucky as well as nutritious??
Sally, oh wise one, I shall set to it. Clever girl, thank you - hope you are feeling better.
I hope the magic's beginning to happen and you're feeling less grumpy.
Lampie, thanks - just a matter in both cases of hanging on in there!
Fennie, yes it's a lovely home in a lovely spot... I don't know why we want to sell it really :(
Leigh, it was a great interview and most heartening to read that you write because you enjoy it - I'll remind myself of that whilst I'm in the horrid bit!! Cupboards... don't!
JJ - had a little flash of magic yesterday! Phew!!
HAH - I love that one too. I hope that the forever house is waiting out there - can't face all this again.
Good luck with the house selling, and LOL re the chicken poo. We used to have a similar problem with the neighbour's fowls, but they (the chickens) probably got sick of hearing my mother screeching about the destruction to her garden, so they don't come through any more.
I'm afraid to ask what a wormery is.
Liane, Thanks very much for your kind comments about Tom's work. After his outburst just now, I wonder whether the chickens will have got the message!