Tomorrow starts the long trek to Harrogate – eight hours on four separate trains, changing at Aberdeen, Edinburgh and York – so today is PICNIC DAY! Yay! Off to Tesco in Inverurie (though they are utter bastards and haven’t the slightest notion what reciprocity means – She Who Must Be Fed Only On The Finest Shrew Pâté And Larks’ Tongue Mousse and I have spent a small fortune in that place over the last two and a half years, and do they stock my book? Do they hairy monkey bollocks.) to purchase some eatables to help pass the time. Some fine caviar? Nope. Don’t like caviar, it’s like eating nasty little fishy egg things – not nice. Instead I shall get some chicken and pickles and cheese and other such tasty treats. The sort of thing that will go well with a couple of crime novels and maybe a bit of plot planning.
I have no laptop any more – never got round to buying one – so I’m a bit stumped on the working front. Can’t stand to write longhand these days, as I’m invariably incapable of reading my own handwriting afterwards, so no keyboard equals no writing. Which makes for a grumpy Stuart. Hence the need for food as a distraction. Maybe that’s why I’ve put on weight during this edit?
Anyway, rambling to a close seems like the best option for this post, except perhaps to ask for people’s favourite picnic things. And you’re not allowed to say ‘ants’.