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I, Writer … #26

This is a post from over at Routine Matters …

Routine Matters

I, Writer … #26

Things are going fairly swimmingly over here in Fulltimeness  at present, although I did have a slight problem earlier this morning.  It came in the form of these jibbering idiots …

There is nothing quite so annoying as a group of skeletons dancing around your bed at 4 am.

They duly informed me that their names were Winterbones, SleepybonesLazybones and … Dave.  And collectively they were known as The Four Skeletons of Writerly Suffering. More like the Drab Four if you ask me.

And, as they danced, they absolutely insisted on speaking their truths. Their truths at 4 am. 

Winterbones said … Come on you chaps. Keep dancing and let’s try going a bit faster. Try and work up a bit of a sweat.

Sleepybonessaid ...  I could just lie down right here and fall into the arms of…

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Meanwhile, in a Parallel Universe …

It seems that the 1951 Club may well move in mysterious ways if today’s wonderful news is true. This is a post from last year. And in the true spirit of peace and friendship, I will waive my usual introduction fee.

1951 Club

September 2017

Meanwhile, in a parallel universe …

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Ian Fleming … from Goldeneye to Casino Royale

Hello there. This is the latest post from my second blog over at Routine Matters. Please join and follow me there if you enjoy it. I so appreciate all your comments and support. All the best. Chris.

Routine Matters

Ian Fleming … from Goldeneye to Casino Royale

In 1946, the author Ian Fleming (1908-1964), creator of spy JamesBond, bought a piece of land on Jamaica with a private beach and reef, and got a local contractor to build a simple house with a great view of the Caribbean Sea. He christened the house Goldeneye.

Goldeneye

Fleming had mentioned to friends during the war that he wanted to write a spy novel.

Fleming started writing Casino Royaleat his Goldeneye estate in Jamaica on 17 February 1952. He liked to say that the book wrote itself, but in fact it was the product of hard work and discipline. He started his day with a morning swim in the Caribbean Sea followed by a breakfast in the garden with his wife Ann. The breakfast always consisted of scrambled eggs, bacon and black coffee.

At 9am, he would give Ann a kiss, leave the breakfast table…

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The 1951 Rolling Review Show … # 159

The 1951 Rolling Review Show … # 159

Welcome to the 1951 Rolling Review Show which features pieces of music I have enjoyed at some time in my life. I hope you enjoy them as well. Let me know if you do. Sometimes I feel that each song here is a little personal voyage for me on a vast and beautiful ocean of musical memories. Thank you so much for joining me. I really appreciate your company.

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I, Writer …. # 25

Routine Matters

I, Writer …. # 25

Hello

I seem to remember telling you that I now have a new cat.
Her name is Kitty. She is almost 4 months old and her favourite food is Felix tuna flavour. She sleeps just about anywhere and has recently taken quite a fancy to the wooden fruit crate in which I keep some of my old writing files.

I also have a new desk. It is quite small and fits in nicely by the window. Try as I might it is stubbornly refusing to eat. I asked in the pet-shop if they had any tasty desk nibbles. This was just before they threw me out.

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I, Writer … # 24

Routine Matters

A couple of days ago I reblogged a post from Kate over at 4AM Writer. She’s called 4AM Writer because she does precisely that. Highly recommended.

Anyway, I woke up really early this morning and couldn’t get back to sleep. I looked at the clock. It was a little after 4.AM.
Freaky or what. I lay awake and got to thinking – 4AM Writer lives in America and is 5 hours behind British time which means she’s 9AM Writer as far as I’m concerned, me being over in Scotland and all. So I just rolled over and went back to sleep. Back to my dream about drinking beer on the Moon. Time-zones are for wimps.

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I, Writer … # 23

More mad ramblings from I, Writer over at Routine Matters.

Routine Matters

I, Writer … # 23

TOSSED SALAD

A short dialogue I overheard when my ear was pressed close to a bowl of salad at a friend’s birthday party.

Your eyes are like limpid pools of starlight. Your skin is as soft as a kitten’s fur.

What about my hair. Do you like my hair ?

You’re a cucumber. You don’t have any hair.

And you’re a tomato. You’re not exactly hairy yourself.

Well no, but …

You’re just jealous.

Jealous ?

Yes. You’re jealous of me and salmon.

No I’m not.

Yes you are!

Look … what you two get up to in a sandwich is non of my business.

Anyway, lettuce told me that you were getting very friendly with a courgette.

Yes. We were at Eton together.

You mean you were eaten together ?

No. We were at Eton together. He was in the year above me.

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