What another fantastic weekend we’ve had here in Baggins Bottom. It all went by in such a whirl, though, I hardly know where to start.
The poet was working from home for part of Friday, so that’s always nice, and during our lunch break he took me to the dentist. After work, we did the shopping. Then Friday evening we ventured out to have a look at Doncaster Live.
We personally thought the event itself was very poor. We caught the tail end of one band and watched another all the way through, which was great. But then some disco-diva has-been came on and started singing and dancing along to backing tracks. As if that isn’t not-live enough (we thought the clue might be in the event title – Doncaster LIVE), the next act was a flipping DJ. Playing records. Where’s the live in that? So Doncaster Live wasn’t really this year, and we decided not to go back the next day either.
However, we did instead do a bit of a pub-crawl of Doncaster and the poet was able to show me some of his stomping grounds of old, including a pub he’s never, ever taken a partner to before, mostly because it was a bit of a taboo, him and friends only. But he enjoyed taking me there because he knew I’d like it. They call it the Vintage Rock Bar now, but in those days it was Beethams. And it really reminded me of my own rock “local” in Birmingham, the Costermonger.
So that turned out well in the end.
On Saturday we were supposed to be going to Birmingham to see my parents, but the poet’s son #1 asked us to help him move some furniture with him, so we moved Birmingham to Sunday and awaited his call. When it came it was to say he couldn’t afford the van hire this week, and could we do it another time, to which we said “of course”.
That left us at a bit of a loose end, so when I was asked what I’d like to do instead, I said I’d like to see the sea. And so we drove to Flamborough Head, initially to see the puffins as well. We saw lots of gannets, a few kittiwakes and, of course, the sea. But the puffins didn’t show for us. We had a lovely walk along Bempton Cliffs, though.
On Sunday we did manage to get along to see my parents, and we had a really nice visit with them. On the way back, however, we received an SOS from son #2 who had broken down on the M62. We were a few hours away at the time, but by the time we got closer he was still stranded, so we helped him to get home. Unfortunately, his car hasn’t fared quite so well.
Then the poet got to do some more fishing, back at one of his personal favourites, Hayfield Fisheries. He had a slow start but once he started catching, they were whoppers. He lost a couple too (naturally), but he had a nice time and I was able to do some work.
I took a writing bag with me which, this week, currently consists of the following:
- 1 non-fiction history book to edit (in the black folder)
- #2 of a short story to write (in the green shorthand notebook)
- #3 of an article to write (in the orange A4 notebook)
- 1 article to edit (in the pink A4 folder)
- my WiP progress/outlines/market information (in the A5 Pukka notebook)
- highlighter pens
- pencil tin
I’ll also keep the Kindle in there and one magazine to read.
The poet worked at home again yesterday, but today he’s left us – again. He’ll be back on Friday. We picked my car up from the garage last night after work. It’s nice to have it back.
I heard from 2 clients this morning – one is a new client and the other is a repeat client. Both have lots of work for me to do, which will keep me busy, along with what I already have in, for the next 3 weeks at least. I also have a nice little cheque to bank at some point. (Hurrah!)
Have a great week.