Slight hitch in my search for literary fame and fortune.

I wrote the first chapter of my novel and although I say it myself, it was pretty damn good. A punchy, witty start to what is clearly going to be a best seller - ha ha!

The children were curious to know what I was writing about and so feeling a bit coy I decided to password protect the document. Very busy for the next couple of weeks so no chance to get any more writing done. Last night I sit down to start chapter 2, and I can't remember the password! I've tried practically every word in the english language - and a fair few that aren't.

So if there is a method of breaking a password on a word document please please tell me...

It's Sunday afternoon and has just started to rain - again.

I don't want to trouble myself with the official statistics but in my world this has been the wettest June since records began.

The Glastonbury festival is in full swing - well nearly swung now - and I think I read in the paper that 1000 people have been treated for injuries caused by slipping in the mud. My two nephews are there. Poor boys seem to have inherited my brother's organisational skills - they turned up and started pitching their tent only to find that the bag of "tent" they brought with them was in fact a random collection of tent poles and nothing else.

It's stopped raining here now - looks like it is gearing up to be a sunny night - ho hum..

Bag Free Zone

I've decided to go green and dispense with the evil plastic bag. I've been working towards this great day for ages - and I'm the proud owner of countless "bags for life" that seem to have had a life of one shopping trip, as I forget them at home or leave them in the boot of the car. But yesterday I was given a particularly lovely hessian bag to spur me on.


This morning I set off round town with my lovely (if a bit scratchy - no pain no gain) bag stuffed full of my quite extensive collection of "bags for life".


I did the weekly shop and sent it off to customer collect and then went around town to get a few bit and pieces I needed.


At the first shop I bought a couple of tops - smuggly putting them straight into my bag. At second shop, I bought a book - straight into bag.

But this was where unease started to grow - the sales assistant in the third shop eyed me up and down as they added a CD to my haul. I felt I needed to go round showing them receipts to prove I wasn't some sort of dare devil shoplifter, challenging them to ask me if I'd paid for all those goods they could see languishing in my bag....