Moniack Mhor

This blog is a traditional diary really. On the Pepys model. Except not in shorthand. Not really intended to be read as entertainment. Part aide memoire, part writing practise. Like doing my scales. A way to limber up of a morning.

Today is Caron's birthday and she got a short dress, a short skirt, some bangles, a ring, some brightly coloured tights. Jill Dawson's A Great Lover... (Caron is a fan of her work...). 7 was worried (really worried, crying worried) he hadn't got her a present, so he gave her the tights...

And then I fought with the child tax credit people... like a million others. Very brusque, exasperated Glaswegian lady. Not a great day for her... This was a typical Gordon Brown scheme. Over complicated, fussy but also somehow fuzzy too... well intentioned but paranoid... and bureaucratic, trying to cover all angles and somehow satisfying nobody...

Just back from Inverness where I was reading at Moniack. Lovely group. I knew three from Lumb. Jane who has come a few times. Steph and the Canadian PR man - Ryan. Who used to do PR for New York City and now does it for Poundland. And here's the twist - Poundland pay more for their PR than the City of new York. Ryan was responsible for that whole 'best job in the world' thing which was actually a PR stunt for the queensland tourist board... or similar...

Lots of intelligent questions and a responsive crowd. Spent some time talking to a stylish, skinny indie-chick who turned out to be a Farsi and Arabic speaker who was just starting work at the Foreign Office. Our spooks have changed... for the better...

Today I've got to catch up on the writing. Gonna start with a shave...