Toppled
Up to make a cup of tea, pausing only to clean up a pool of cat urine next to the litter tray, and back into bed. Sipping tea in bed, I opened my email from Live Cannon to say my manuscript Man Up had not won the prize for which I was shortlisted. I had tried not got my hopes up over the last six months, but still a disappointment. All is not lost, however, as I was told they were big fans of my work and would I be up for meeting to discuss it? But it took me a while to reach this point of seeing this gleam of optimism. I have failed at the last fence so many times it is hard to bear. Shortly after, Brian arrived with his chainsaw -- which he has been trained and licenced to use -- bright as a button having already been for a swim in the sea to help us out in the garden. He proceeded to cut down the small dead conifer, the diseased crab apple tree, and pollarded the sycamores, which I learn are unwelcome trees. Although I had agreed all this with Lorraine, I fo...