So, I'm writing now. The final part of the beginning, and revision of the beginning. One problem I have is that the settings are, in the main, real places, and one of them closes at night so I can't go in when it's dark. I can look inside at night, but there's no substitute for actually being inside the place. Still, I've been there during the day, so I just gotta use my imagination.
Having been off work for a week, I realise I haven't been watching my diet, with the inevitable result that I don't feel too good. I've got a load of stuff in that should ensure the disappearance of any yukky feelings. I have to stick to what I've got. Chips are out lol
Anyway, after my latest bout of food shopping, I stopped off at a small copse not far from my new place. There lives a little fox. The poor fella seems to be starving and his coat is rather raggy and mottled. In the absence of any knowledge of foxy food, I'd got him some scotch eggs (don't ask!) Now, a good friend of mine, David Hartmann, once told me that if you gave a fox some eggs the fox would immediately start sniffing around, looking for the chickens! Ha, after biting into the scotch eggs, that was exactly what the fox did! Then he wolfed (!) the lot down. Good!
Feeling better...
1 comment:
I have this image of all these birds perching on your shoulders. Hey, good for you Esy. Looking forward to reading your opening! And I like your fox anecdote; although urban foxes are a right pain when they latch onto the scent of chicken in your wheely bin. And sometimes I startle one (and it me) and we're held in this kind of stand off and I think how peculiar a triangular face is. No idea what the fox is thinking.
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