dorothystewartblog

about writing and life and God

Anything could happen

on December 5, 2012

Digital Image

What’s the connection between snow and poached eggs? That’s man-eating poached eggs, by the way.

Long ago when I was young, a couple of girlfriends and I went, giggling, to the local small-town cinema to see a horror movie. The man-eating aliens looked like poached eggs. They oozed up to their prey, then up and over them, engulfing them and sucking out all their life, leaving behind an empty shell.

The action took place in one of those nameless American small towns on the edge of the desert and you could hear the sizzle of heat. I’m convinced the cinema turned up the heating to add to the effect.

My friends and I had walked to the cinema on a fine spring evening. We exited to several inches of snow which had fallen while we were engrossed in the movie.

Today’s weather forecast is for snow. Essex got quite lot in the early hours of this morning. A friend is coming round this evening and we’re going to the cinema. To watch Salmon Fishing in the Yemen.

I don’t know if there are any poached eggs in it, but it is a desert location, so I think I’m expecting snow before we come out. I’m considering making up the spare bed in case she can’t get home. And I suppose I could serve poached eggs for breakfast.

 

The Book Progress report

As no doubt the writers among you can tell from the nature of the post, I’m doing a great job of frittering away time.

I started off today selecting the perfect hymns for Sunday morning’s service (must ring the organist and discuss tunes) then, realising I’d run out of catfood, took myself to a nearby town and spent too long choosing (wisely?unwisely?) glad rags for the coming parties and lunches, then came home ravenous… I’ll draw a veil over the accidental flapjacks that came home along with the catfood. The sugar buzz was not helpful for settling down to serious non-fiction writing. That’s my excuse. For today.

But I’ve made a start. Typed up the Contents, inserted what I’ve got already, then wrote a whole new page…

and deleted it in disgust.

I can feel the incipient panic.

But… tomorrow is another day!

 

 

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