Vicars Egg

I haven't the first clue where that phrase comes from, but I do know the vicar's boiled egg was 'good in parts' and in our odd family at least it has become a synonym for a day of mixed blessings.

Really good news - I joined Fanstory.com before Christmas and entered all the competitions. Not with any hope of winning, but because I am not very creative and prefer to be given a starting point, something to set the squeaky little cogs moving. All the contests are along the lines of 'write a story/poem about this picture/starting with this line' and its like being back at school - there is a goal and no need to stare at an empty sheet of paper. Anyhoo, the nice thing is that my first ever stab at a short story has made it into the list of competition finalists. Its not going to win, but thats not the point, it got picked. I am (to coin another English phrase) well chuffed.

Really bad news - It snowed last night (so what else is new?) and the boiler upped and died, so no hot water, no heating and a family like warring ice-lollies first thing this morning - particularly my husband who has to get up first and took the opportunity to eff, blind and thoroughly enjoy being the poor, hard-done-by martyr. Not quite a burning martyr, mind, it was too cold, but unless he has cheered up by tonight I may well start collecting dry straw.

Quite good news - I finally got through to the boiler repair people, they are already booked to the hilt but will squeeze in a visit probably near the end of the day. No guarantee of a repair mind, but a visit, and it gives me all day to play hunt the carpet.

Rather revolting news - I am going to have to cut myself free from the addiction that is the net and go play housewife. More than that, I've had a rotten cold, straight after nursing the rest of the family through colds and things have piled up. There doesnt seem to be a single surface (floor included) that doesnt have a mish mash of essential and unneeded paperwork, combs, kids toys and general odds and sods that would take an hour per pile to properly sort, so I am going to have to spend this morning separating things into vague sorts, tying them up in carrier bags and throwing them towards their respective owners' wardrobes. This is not a good idea, in this house.

See-saws - She Weevil gave me some really decent questions to answer for a site that I don't know my own way round yet, and I am very grateful, but will have to tear myself away from the fun of setting about answering them. Ditto the promised critique to a friend on fan story (even though she's waiting for it, and that makes me feel mean). I also kept an appointment this morning to run off 500 flyers for local letterboxes and they too will have to remain in a pile until I can fold them and get out to post them, which rather puts my own income on the back burner.

And thats it. I have rambled about the paltry, small stuff that is my life today and I still can't work out whether to be totally peed off, or nauseatingly Pollyanna about it all. Thats even taking into account that this whole post has done no-one any good but me.

Sorry about that, particularly to you BadAunt, I know you can't stand 'boring day' blogs. But hey, thanks guys, its been cathartic.